The following story contains sex. Draw your own conclusions and mark your own warnings.
I looked at the binder in front of my boss's desk, and then back at Professor Hardy. "You're out of your mind, sir." He smiled. "It's what we need, Charles, well, what I need. Now, are you in it, or am I going to have to hire another investigative journalist?"
"I'll do it sir, but do you know what you're asking of me?"
"Yes, and I know it's tough, but I'm convinced you can handle it."
"Sir, you basically want to bring in the field anthropology into the world of modern sex appeal."
"Which will inspire a lot of bright young minds to join our field, and who knows, maybe work for me. I wouldn't have hired you if I didn't think you'd cut it."
I sighed, and then conceded the point. I did need the money.
"Alright sir, I'm game."
"Good! Here, let me show you what it's all about."
We spent the next hour going over what the project would entail. The Professor had scoped out a tribe somewhere in one of the islands in the Mediterranean that was known for its secretive and lust-charged traditions. Once entry into the tribe was guaranteed, then I would write an expose on it. Today's sex-crazed media would eat it up right away, and people would be flocking to the university to study anthropology. The more people joined, the more the Professor got paid.
"Sounds like a good plan so far, but how am I going to get access to that tribe?" Professor Hardy flipped through some pages in the binder, and then opened it facing me. "This man right here." He said, tapping the picture with his index finger. It was man, in his early thirties, tall, built, fierce black eyes, and a small beard and mustache. "Curtis Clark. Ex-marine turned anthropologist. You could say he's traveled the world, met interesting people, and on some occasions, killed them. He's the only man I know that knows in detail about this tribe. He's been in there, so he's your best source for information. I already talked to him, you'll be spending some time with him for the next month." I coughed.
"Sir?"
"You heard me, Liberty."
"But sir, I have.."
"A job?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you know how much I'll pay you?"
"You haven't specified on that part yet, I thought it was going to be a small nominal fee or something of the like."
He laughed as if I had just cracked a particularly funny joke.
"I've been reading books before your pappy was even born. I've seen the best and the worst of literature and journalism. You're one of the best I've read. It's people that you that are able to pump dead professions like this with passion. Here,"
He put the check on the table, and I had to read it closely to see what it read.
"Sir, you mean to tell me that I get 500 grand,"
"500 grand now, 500 grand upon completion.. I can afford the investment."
"Alright, I get one million dollars, to camp out with an ex-marine for a month, write about some tribe in the Mediterranean, and package it so that people will buy it?"
"In a nutshell, yes."
"When do I leave?"
"Your plane leaves tonight, you will board it, land in Los Angeles, be met there by Clark, and then you'll go to his place."
I left the Professor's office feeling fuzzy. There had to be a catch somewhere. The most obvious catch would be that Clark was an ex-marine, and the piece of work that caught Professor Hardy's attention was an exposee on Marine atrocities.
I got on the plane at Dulles as per the instructions, and then arrived later at an ungodly hour at LAX. Upon arrival, and after going through customs and luggage retrieval while feeling very jetlagged, I finally took to looking for the Clark's car. What I didn't expect was a limousine, and a uniformed chauffeur holding up a sign that read `CHARLES LIBERTY'. Feeling very confused, I walked up to the driver. "Sir?" The driver looked at me and then said, "Ah, Mr. Liberty, please, step inside." He held the door open for me, and I stepped into the darkened limousine, and the driver shut the door. Just as he did so, the lights went on, and I was sitting in front of Clark himself.
"Good evening, Mr. Liberty." He said, stretching out his hand. I shook it. "Evening, Mr. Clark." He held it for awhile, while staring at me through sunglasses, as if he was reading me. "Relax, Mr. Liberty, you are not in any kind of trouble. I'm actually a big fan."
"You are?"
"Yeah, I loved your piece on the Corps."
My blood froze. "Sir, I honestly didn't mean any disrespect. It was just hat I had to get the word out there."
Clark just laughed. "Don't worry about it, I know what they did. But enough about business, we've got about an hour or two before we reach our destination, so tell me about yourself."
So I did. It was not the most particularly exciting story, but I told him. I told him how I grew up in Texas, how I had tried to start a rock band that failed, how I loved to read and write. The most surprising event was that at the age of 22, I was in line for a Pulitzer for my work, but I didn't receive it due to the other candidate's seniority. In turn, he told me about growing up in New York, how he wasn't the greatest kid growing up, about his actions in the marine corps, and his incursion into anthropology. "Sir, may I be blunt?"
"You'll be spending the next month with me, Liberty, so be what you are, I won't be offended, I admire honesty."
"Well, we're riding in a limousine."
"And you're wondering how in Sam hell did an ex-devil dog like me get his hand on so much money?"
"Yes."
"After I quit the corps, I had nowhere to go to, no family, no friends. I had no formal education, so I decided to give college a chance. That was where I met Professor Hardy. Professor Hardy, as you know, is a very wealthy man. Unlike most other rich fat cats, he is a good guy, and he has an eye for talent. He paid my way through college. When I graduated, I asked him how could I ever repay him the favor. He told me simply, "Find me a shiney." So I did. I went back to the Netherlands, where I served with my unit, and where we did certain things I would rather not discuss right now, and then found what I was looking for. That's what got me the wealth.."
The rest of the night passed in a daze. I don't remember sleeping, and waking up to quite a wondrous sight
"It's rude to stare, Mr. Liberty." Clark said, with a smile. He must have seen my gaping stare. All I remembered from the previous night is politely excusing myself, then passing out. When I woke up, I wasn't in the car anymore. I was on a beach chair. I stood up and then saw myself in a small island, with a massive villa at its center. "What the hell happened?" "You fell asleep last night at around two in the morning, we got to the port, I didn't want to wake you up, so I had to inject you with a small sleeping aid. Then we got you on the boat, sailed here, and voila." I looked at the house once again. "I don't know what you found in the Netherlands, Mr. Clark, but it sure must have been something." "It was, Mr. Liberty, it was. Now, if you'll follow me, I'm sure you'd like the inside of the house better."
We walked up a narrow stone pathway that led to the massive doors of the house. At the entrance, he stopped, and turned to face me. "Mr. Liberty, I'm going to ask you this just once. You know what you're in for. If you want to back down, now's your chance. I will bear no hard feelings about you."
"No reason to back down. I'm expecting the unexpected. I'm ready." He opened the doors, and I entered into my summer vacation.
It was breathtaking....
"I need to take a shower, I feel unworthy of this house." I muttered. Clark laughed. "My guests are worthy of everything I own. But yes, you are jetlagged, go up the stairs and the second door on your left.
After the shower, I stepped out, walked into the room that was given to me (which was definitely bigger than the small flat I lived in back in the university), and changed into a bathrobe that was left there.
I walked downstairs, to the living room, where Clark was in a bathrobe, nursing a cup of wine. "Ah, Mr. Liberty, please join me." Since I had no other
After talking for what seems like hours of talk of the most random yet interesting subjects, Clark looked at me. "Tell me about your sexual experiences, Mr. Liberty, how many women have you slept with?" "Only six or seven."
"And men?"
"None."
"Charles, I'm a trained marine, I know when people are lying."
"Alright, one. But we were young, and we were foolish, and I don't see the relevance that it has with the investigation."
"The tribe we're studying, is highly sexual. You need to be comfortable with all facets of human sexuality. Don't worry, what you did is nothing wrong, and I won't go tell the world."
"Alright, I'll tell you."
So I told him how when we were in highschool, after one of our jam sessions, the band left, save for the drummer and myself. I was crashing over at his place. We had been watching a porn before going to bed, and when we finally got around to going to bed, the weather had gotten so that it was too stuffy. We had both stripped down to our boxers. And seeing being still aroused by the porn, we had to find a way to alleviate that tension. So we both pleased ourselves.
I was suddenly aware that I had grown hard just thinking about that experience. I looked over at Clark and saw that he was excited as well. "Well, I think that's a great first time. Now, let me tell you a little bit about the tribe we're studying. They have an initiation rite, in which a man `adopts' a younger man and teaches him to become a man. How do they do this? The older man gives his seed to the younger man for a time until such a time comes that the younger man can give his own seed."
"So how will I learn?"
"Learn through experience, Mr. Liberty. I will give you my own seed." With that, he stood up and removed his bathrobe It was quite an experience. He had an Olympian quality about him, well-toned, muscular body. "Will you receive it?" He asked. I could only nod as I stepped out of my own bathrobe, walked up to him and knelt down, ready to experience.