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Judaea' is the Roman name for what later became Syria Palaestina', but at the time these stories are set, the Roman province still held its earlier name. I have some ideas for additional stories.
As for this one . . . "And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flocks by night." You may recognize some characters from "Gaius and Ezra".
My other stories are many and varied, though I always write carefully, edit compulsively, and try to create interesting characters, no matter how kinky or taboo the story may get. You can find them all by searching `shahairyzad'.
And if you like this story . . . please let me know! shahairyzad@aol.com
THE SHEPHERDS
We finished penning the flock for the night, and Reuben said he'd take first watch.
Malachi took my hand and led me silently over the ridge of the hill. He drew me along till Reuben and the campfire were out of sight.
It was a chilly night, but the sky was clear, and the majesty of the heavens shown above us. I shivered, perhaps from the chill, but more from the thought of what was to come.
"Will Asher be able to find us here?"
I saw Malachi shrug in the moonlight. "I don't know. Maybe. I want you for myself tonight. If Asher can find us, he can join us."
Then he came closer and kissed me, and I stopped thinking about Asher.
Malachi's beard is longer than mine and rough like the beard of an old goat. Mine is still a new beard . . . my first beard . . . and soft. When he kissed me, the hair around his mouth caught on the hair around my mouth, and I tasted both our beards, and the bread and cheese we had for our evening meal.
Malachi's kiss was not like a kiss from my mother or my father. It was a long kiss . . . a wet kiss . . . and it made the blood mount in my face and in my member.
Malachi's tongue pushed between my lips, and I opened my mouth and welcomed him in. I knew that soon I would welcome him in my back door, and that thought made my breath quicken.
His body pressed against mine, and I could feel the stiffness of his member. I drew up his robe as he drew up mine, and I took his member in my hands and stroked it like the head of a young lamb.
His hands stroked my buttocks. His fingers were soft from the sheep's fleeces, and I took pleasure in how they felt on my buttocks. His fingertips touched my back door, and I moaned.
Malachi's hands moved to my hips, and he turned me so that I faced away. I bent at the waist and pulled my robe up farther. I heard him spit and felt him rub spittle on my back door. He spit again, and I knew he was rubbing spittle on his member. It knocked at my back door, and I opened and welcomed it in.
When a member first enters your back door, it may hurt, but only at first. If you welcome it as a guest and open your door to its comings and goings, the hurt stops and the feeling becomes sweet as honey. Even if the comings and goings are vigorous, like a ram rutting with a ewe, the feeling still is sweet. On this night, Malachi was like a ram rutting with great vigor, and I moaned and bleated like a ewe.
I thought of Reuben doing the same to Thistle, his favorite ewe this year. We have often looked on from afar as he has rutted with her, or at times with some other ewe. He does it every time he has watch. That is how Asher came to think of rutting with me, and when Malachi saw how my back door welcomed his brother's member, he came knocking as well.
This night, Malachi was not just knocking. This night, he was pounding at my door. His hands were firm on my hips, and his member battered my door, demanding entry. The sweet feeling rolled through my insides and left me breathless.
I thought of the coin, tied up in a rag and knotted to my belt. I told myself, when Malachi is done, I must look and be sure the rutting had not loosened the knot. I must not lose my coin.
It is the first coin that ever was my own. Gaius the Roman gave it to me. He is one of the soldiers who came to town for the great counting of the people. He is the shortest and the youngest of the soldiers, and his body is strong and firm.
Gaius is uncircumcised. I know this because I handled his member before he entered my back door. I handled it . . . and even suckled it. His member is bigger than Malachi's . . . much bigger than Asher's . . . but he put olive oil on it, not just spittle, and it entered my back door with little hurt. He knocked gently, and I opened and welcomed him in.
I know that Roman soldiers are cruel. I know that the uncircumcised are unclean.
But Gaius's member was cleaner than any member I have ever handled, and Gaius was kind to me, and gentle, and he smelled sweeter than Malachi or Asher. As he rutted with me, he stroked my cheek and looked into my eyes. We did not rut as sheep or shepherds do. He lay with me as a man lies with a woman . . . as Reuben has told us of lying with his wife. I lay on my back, and he entered me, and he looked into my eyes as we rutted, and he kissed me as his member came and went at my back door.
His eyes are the color of the sky at midday, and his hair is like hay in the sunlight. I have heard of angels . . . perhaps this is how angels look?
I felt for the coin. It was still there, praise be to God. Then I heard Asher's voice.
"THAT's where you are! Aren't you done yet?"
He sounded angry, but not truly angry, and I knew that his anger was with his brother and not with me. Asher and Malachi snap at each other like two dogs, but if a wolf came to threaten our flock they would stand shoulder to shoulder to fight it off.
I heard Malachi breathing hard, but his member did not slow its battering.
"Fuck off! I'm about to cum. You can have him when I'm done."
Malachi likes Asher to watch when we are rutting. His knocking becomes more vigorous, and his member pushes deeper when he knows his brother is looking on.
Asher stood and watched us rut, his hand under his robe, stroking his member.
Now Malachi rutted like a young ram, and my breath became short, and his knocking was so vigorous my bowels protested, and I became dizzy. Then he cried out and filled my bowels with his seed. His seed felt warm inside me, and I was filled with joy.
Then Malachi lay his chest against my back, and held my body tight, and breathed as though he had run a great distance up the hillside. Asher came to pull him off me, but Malachi would not be moved.
I waited till Malachi's member slipped from my back door, and then I stood and stretched and jumped up and down. I took the old sheepskin that I use as a cloak and laid it on the ground, finding a bit of earth that did not have many rocks. I knelt on the sheepskin on my hands and knees and bleated as if I was a ewe.
Asher laughed and let go of Malachi. He knelt behind me, and his member entered my back door. My opening was sore, and my bowels were weary, but Malachi's seed made my opening slick. Asher's member is smaller than Malachi's, and even when my bowels protest, to have a member knocking at my back door brings me joy.
Asher knocked vigorously, as though vying with his brother, and I moaned in pleasure.
His knocking became faster and harder, and I prepared to feel the warmth of his seed in my bowels.
But all at once, before he could fill me with his seed, the earth trembled, and a loud sound, like cymbals clashing, filled the heavens! Music surrounded us, and the night became as bright as day.
I hid my face in terror.
My bowels shook, and I felt Asher's member withdraw so quickly that Malachi's seed spilled from my back door onto the sheepskin.
A great voice spoke, and it rang out like the trumpets in the temple . . . the great temple in Jerusalem. I was so terrified that the words rolled across me without my understanding them fully.
The voice told us not to fear, and it spoke of some great and wonderful event . . . a wondrous birth . . . here, in the city of David, our mighty ancestor. But I did not understand who had been born.
More voices joined the voice, as of a great multitude, filling the heavens with song. It was a joyful song, praising God, and it made my heart leap and filled me with great joy, and my fear drew back, but still I hid my face and made myself small on my sheepskin. I knew that my robe was about my waist, and my buttocks were exposed, but I dared not move, even to cover myself.
The voices moved higher, up towards the heavens, and grew fainter, and the light dimmed, and when at last I heard them no more, I raised my head and drew my robe down and stood on my feet, trembling.
The majesty of the heavens spread across the night sky, as before. I shivered in the cold and pulled my sheepskin onto my shoulders.
Malachi stood, still as stone, his face turned to the heavens. Asher knelt beside him, praying.
I approached them, and Malachi turned to me, greatly agitated, and said,
"We have to go find Reuben."
"It was an angel, sent from God. It was a whole host of angels!"
Reuben looked at Malachi as though he was drunk or possessed by a demon. "You were asleep and dreaming. I heard a little thunder and saw a bit of lightning, that was it."
"Asher and Ezra saw it too."
"Asher is a moron, and Ezra is a moonstruck calf with his head in the clouds."
I spoke up. "There was a voice, but it frightened me so much I couldn't hear what it said."
Malachi spoke again, with greater vigor. "The angel spoke of the Messiah . . . the birth of the Messiah, right here in Bethlehem. The savior, the one we've been waiting for since the time of the prophets. The angel said we'd find the child in a feedbox, wrapped in bands of cloth."
"Every baby is wrapped in bands of cloth. And what the fuck is the Messiah doing in a feedbox?"
Malachi stuck out his jaw and spoke loudly. "I am going into town to find this child. Asher and Ezra can come with me if they want. You can stay here with the sheep or go fuck yourself for all I care."
"You bet I'm staying here with the sheep. I'm not going to break my neck, walking down the mountain in the middle of the night!"
It did not take long to find the baby, because Malachi is wise. He thought, if the baby is in a feedbox, the feedbox is in a stable. With so many people in town for the great counting, the inns must be full, and so the baby's family must be sleeping in a stable . . . perhaps a stable near one of the inns.
We found them in the third stable that we looked in.
The baby was wrapped in cloth as the angel had said, his little arms and legs pushing against the bindings. He had dark hair covering his head, and his dark eyes looked on us, wide with wonder. He lay on a bed of hay in a feedbox, but as we entered the stable, the baby's mother picked him up and held him in her arms.
I have held a newborn lamb in my arms, so I understood the love and wonder that shone in the mother's eyes. She looked young . . . as young as me, perhaps . . . and tired, but her face seemed to glow in her joy.
The father stood by her, gazing down at the child in her arms with an expression much like the mother, though it seemed to me that there was worry intermingled with the love and wonder. The father was young and handsome, and his beard was clean and had been combed. I wondered how his lips would feel, kissing my lips, and how his member would feel, knocking at my back door, but I put those thoughts aside. His hand rested on his wife's shoulder, while his other hand gently stroked the child's cheek.
Malachi spoke with the father, whose name was Joseph. He was also of the house of David, so we are kinsmen of a sort. He seemed kind and humble . . . not as you would think the father of the Messiah would be.
I did not speak. I squatted and watched the mother and the baby. She looked at me, her face shy, and I smiled, and she smiled and returned her gaze to her child.
The baby was a baby. All babies are babies, neither more nor less, I suppose.
Yet . . . looking at this baby, I felt my heart fill with wonder and peace. I no longer thought of the father's lips or his member, nor of Malachi's member, nor Asher's.
I know that the mightiest ram begins its life as a tiny lamb. I know that every great king enters the world naked and helpless, even if he is born on a cushioned bed in a palace built of cedar. I thought of this child . . . this beautiful baby nestled in his mother's arms . . . becoming the great savior, the holy one of Israel . . . and my heart came near to bursting with joy.
I wanted to make an offering . . . a gift for this precious child . . . a sacrifice worthy of the Messiah. But I had nothing worthy of so great a child. I am a poor shepherd, with nothing more than the tattered robe on my back, an old sheepskin, and my worn sandals. Even my sheep are not my own.
Then I thought of the coin.
I did have something precious to offer the child!
Perhaps it would not look precious in God's eyes . . . one small coin . . . but I knew it to be precious to me. I hoped that would make it a worthy sacrifice.
I unknotted the rag and knelt before the child, eyes cast down, offering my coin.
The coin lay on the palm of my hand. No one took it.
I raised my eyes, and the mother gazed on me in confusion.
The father turned his eyes on me, and he too seemed bewildered.
I spoke, uncertain what to say.
"Please accept this gift, as . . . my offering . . . as a thank offering for the child that angels sang about."
The mother regarded me, gravely.
Then she stretched out her hand and took my coin and thanked me on behalf of her son, and my heart leapt in my chest.
When at last we returned to the flock, Reuben was full of anger.
"You pricks left me here alone for two full watches! Fuck you all!! If you ever do that again, I'll cut off your balls while you sleep!"
We tried to explain the beauty of the child and the wondrous peace we felt in his presence, but Reuben would not listen.
"Fuck you all, and your whore mothers too! I'm going to sleep."
And he lay down and slept.
Malachi and Asher were also weary, and when I told them that I would take the last watch, they too lay down and slept.
But I sat by the glowing campfire and pondered all that I had seen. A great joy filled me, as when a man fills me with his seed, but this joy filled my entire being with its warmth, and the warmth lingered within me throughout the cold night.
In the small hours of the morning, before the coming of dawn, a light appeared before me.
I looked, and a beautiful man stood before me.
His height was tall above normal men, and his skin was pale and shone like moonlight on a meadow. His eyes were grey . . . and green, and blue . . . glowing from within, their color changing like a cloud-filled sky. His hair was fine as a spider's web, and it floated about his head, rippling in the air, though I felt no breeze. It was whiter than the whitest wool, whiter even than hoarfrost. It was like the hair of a venerable elder, but his face was smooth and hairless as a child's. I could not see what robe he wore, because his clothing shone so bright it dazzled my eyes.
The beautiful man spoke.
"Hail Ezra, be not afraid, for you have found favor with God!"
His voice was not loud, but it filled me up. The sound lingered within me, rolling through my body like thunder rolling across a valley.
I fell to my knees and did not dare to look at the beautiful face a second time.
"Rise, my child."
The voice was softer now, and gentle, like my voice when I am speaking to the youngest lambs, but still it rolled within my body, stirring my insides, and my unruly member became stiff, and my back door closed more tightly.
The beautiful man took hold of my hands and drew me to my feet. He gazed down on my face, and his gaze drew my eyes upward to meet his. His changeable eyes were as gentle as his voice, and they looked straight into mine, so that I could not look away.
"Your forefather Jacob wrestled with me, lo these many years ago. Do not you wrestle with me as well, Ezra, for I would bring you joy."
Was this beautiful man an angel? His beauty was so great I knew it must be so, and yet so great was his beauty, I wanted him to be a man.
The dazzling robe slid from him, and he stood before me naked. Again, I averted my eyes, but as I did so, I glimpsed his private place. It was as smooth and hairless as a child's. He had no member, nor even a slit, as women have. Was he a eunuch? I had heard tell of such men, who serve great kings and can be great warriors, though their member and the weights of the weaver have been cut away.
The beautiful man smiled.
"I am no eunuch. I am made in God's image, as you see me. I am not made as men are, for I do not eat, or drink, or copulate. My mouth is formed to sing the praises of the Lord and to speak his Word. But a mouth may be put to other purposes without shame."
The beautiful man put forth his hands, and drew off my robe, and I stood before him, naked, and I felt ashamed of my nakedness.
He inclined his head and drew my body close to his, and his lips touched my lips.
I felt lightning coursing through my limbs at the touch of his lips, and heat filled my body and warmed my face, as when I have tasted wine. I trembled, and my legs could not support me. I would have fallen to the ground had not the beautiful man held me tight and pressed me against his body. His flesh was smooth and firm, and stronger even than Gaius's strong body.
His tongue pressed between my lips, and I opened my mouth, and a taste sweeter than honey filled my mouth. My legs regained their strength, and I pressed myself against him, and kissed him with all my might till I became dizzy.
He pulled away from me, but his hands never left my body. He knelt before me and moved to take my member in his mouth.
I put forth my hands and covered my member.
"No! It's unclean!"
The beautiful man smiled again.
"Child of the Father, all was made by the Father. Nothing in creation is unclean in His eyes . . . only in the eyes of men. Your gift has gladdened the Father's heart. In thankfulness, I would gladden yours."
And he drew my hands away from my member and took it into his mouth.
His mouth was hot, and he took the full length of my member into his mouth. I had never felt such pleasure! It was sweeter far than when I handle my own member. As he suckled, the feeling was so sweet I cried out and swooned and would have fallen to the ground had he not taken hold of my hips.
I felt the beautiful man touch my back door. I had not heard him spit, but his finger entered my opening without knocking and without hurt. It came and went at my back door, and pleasure rolled through my body, filling me, swallowing me up, like clouds covering a mountain top. His finger felt thicker, and thicker still, but still I felt no hurt, only pleasure warming my body.
I realized that the beautiful man was entering my back door with many fingers, and still I felt nothing but delight.
I gazed down at his head. I put forth my hand and touched his hair, which was softer than the softest lamb. I stroked his hair and marveled at its softness, and the heat of his mouth on my member, and the girth of his fingers pressing into me.
I wanted more of the beautiful man's fingers in my back door, and I pushed my buttocks back against them. I felt his fingers move more deeply into me, and I felt his hand enter my back door, his whole hand entering into my bowels.
I felt filled, and fulfilled, and great joy overflowed me as when men's seed has filled my bowels to overflowing and spills forth onto the ground. I cried out, but it was a cry of pleasure.
The beautiful man knocked at my back door with his hand, just as Malachi and Asher knock with their members, until I became dizzy with pleasure and cried out a second time and spilled my seed in his mouth.
The beautiful man withdrew his hand and stood, smiling down at me.
I began to weep, though I knew not why, and he drew me into his arms and held me, and thus we stood till my tears were spent, and for much time after that.
When the angel departed from me, my body was too tired to move, yet still I did not sleep. I lay and gazed on the flames as they danced for joy, and I thought of the angel, and the glory of his mouth on my member and his hand in my bowels.
Gradually, though, my thoughts returned to the young mother in the stable, and her beautiful child, of whom the angels said such wondrous things. I pondered it long in my heart.
What would he grow to be? What wonders would he do? How would he save his people?
I prayed to God that I might live to see his wonders for myself.
And tomorrow, I vowed, I would return to the stable to gaze upon the child again . . . and then, I would go in search of Gaius the Roman.