Daemon Way

Dimitri's Return

Chapter 1
A Stranger under my Roof

The day my son Dimitri was physically and sexually assaulted and disappeared was the darkest day of my life, and I thought there would never be a day darker. I was wrong. The darkest day of my life was not the day my son was kidnapped and taken from me, but was, God help me, the day that he was returned to me.

I kept a calendar hidden in a drawer in my workroom where I kept the operational manuals for my power tools so my wife would not see it. Each night before retiring I would pretend to go to check that the backdoor was locked, take the calendar out and cross off the day. I would then head off to bed, change into my pyjamas, remove the crucifix I've worn about my neck since my fourteenth birthday, kiss it as I offered up a silent prayer, and crawl into bed and kiss my wife goodnight. It was a ritual, one which I followed religiously seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year no matter what day it was, a workday, a weekend, or a special holiday. Eight years and four months to the day after our son Dimitri had disappeared, the day he and his best buddy had been kidnapped while having a sleep-over at his best buddy's home, we received the phone call I had been praying for and steadfastly believed we would receive despite the advice of all others to let go.

"Mr. Savalos?"

"Yes."

"Aristotle Savalos?"

"That is correct."

"Your wife is Hellena Savalos?"

"What is this about?"

"This is Sergeant Kao of the Calgary City Police Department. A squad car will be arriving at your home in a few minutes. We have your son Dimitri in custody."

"My son? In custody?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Is he all right?"

"The officers will explain in person when they get there."

"He's all right," I persisted. "He's alive."

"Yes, sir, he is alive."

The officers arrived a few minutes later as promised, a young man and a young woman. They looked too young to be police officers. They informed my wife and me that the Vancouver city police in conjunction with an international police task force had made a kiddy porn bust and had found my son posing naked with several six-year-old boys. Discovering there was an open missing persons file and an unresolved kidnapping charge regarding him, he had been returned to Calgary. Eight years and four months later. I stared at the two young officers in disbelief as tears of relief and joy flowed down my cheeks. My prayers had finally been answered and our nightmare was finally over. Our son had returned. I did not know then of course, but actually, our nightmare was just beginning. Learning that he had been found at last was a shock, but not as much of a shock as what I was told next. As a result of their investigation, the Vancouver police wanted to charge Dimitri with the very crimes that had been committed against him, kidnapping, indecent assault on minors, and production and distribution of kiddy pornography. I could not believe it.

Having spent every penny of our savings in my search for him, an ordeal that I would want no parent to go through but which I was to find out was nothing compared to the ordeal I was yet to experience, I took out a second mortgage on our home and hired a lawyer, an expensive one but a good one, (all good lawyers are expensive) who got the charges against Dimitri dismissed on the basis that he himself was a victim and anything he had done had been the result of that victimization. The proviso that he would report weekly to a probation officer and would stay away from schools, pools, playgrounds, and anywhere else that children might gather with a review every four months until it was determined that he was not a threat to public safety was a reasonable one. A month after having been transferred to Calgary, he was released and allowed to come home. Those thirty days seemed like forever for Hellena and me, but in the legal world it was remarkably fast. The speedy resolution was in part because of our lawyer, and to a larger part due to the public outcry, particularly from the Catholic community, that a boy who had been a victim of the sickest crimes imaginable was now being treated like a criminal. The social media can be a very powerful force, for the cause of good and, as I already knew, for the cause of evil.

Hellena wanted a large party with a huge feast as only the Greeks know how to put on, complete with balloons and dancing and music like they play in the old country with all our relatives and all Dimitri's former friends to welcome Dimitri back home, but I convinced her to wait. After more than eight years away, his return was going to be a huge adjustment for him, and for us. I am glad now that I did. The individual who stepped into our home was not the one who had left eight years ago. Our son had left a boy and returned a man. He had been a hundred and fifty-seven centimetres [5'2"] and fifty kilos [110 lbs] when he had left with smooth, unshaven cheeks, the silky beginnings of a moustache and fine dark adolescent hair on his shins and calves. The person standing in front of me was a hundred and seventy-eight centimetres [5'10"], taller than myself, and seventy-five kilos [165 lbs], with a five-o'clock shadow darkening his cheeks, chin and upper lip, long, black hair covering his legs and forearms, and a dense mat of chest hair. He had left a boy of 14 and four months, and had returned a man 22 and eight months old. It was more than his physical appearance that had changed though. That was to be expected. There was something else, something frightening. There was a look in his eyes, a vacant, detached look that struck me as being the eyes of a dead man.

Having been born in Greece and having immigrated to Canada shortly after our marriage, my wife and I brought with us what others call old world values and customs and we raised our new family according to them. That included among other things having close family ties and openly and physically expressing our emotions. Like all adolescent boys, Dimitri had been embarrassed by his mother's public displays of affection, but inside I knew he took pleasure and comfort in her embraces and kisses. As Hellena wrapped her arms about this tall, dark stranger and gave him a motherly buss on the cheek, he tensed, not just uncomfortable but obviously repulsed by her actions, and there was an emptiness and coldness in his eyes while being embraced by the one who had given him birth that chilled me to the bone. I knew all too well the physical and sexual abuse he'd suffered and could understand his revulsion to being touched, but this was his mother whom he had not seen for eight and a half years!

Although I wanted badly to embrace him myself, I restrained myself and shook his hand and placed a fatherly hand on his shoulder. The way he braced himself and the set of his lips made me want to cry, and to seek out those who had damaged him so and make them pay. Oh, he was cordial and pleasant, and he respectfully and obediently did whatever we asked of him, but from the day he stepped back into our home he was distant and unfeeling, a robot, a stranger among strangers. After being away from us most of his formative teenage years, I could understand his discomfort and reservation around us and I accepted it knowing it would take time for him to emerge from the protective wall he had built around himself, but I had a feeling that the man sitting across from me at the dinner table was far more damaged than he appeared and than anyone knew. His mother, as loving and gentle a soul as has ever walked this earth, was hurt by his cold response to her embraces and kisses and her words of comfort and support, but being of the quiet and God-fearing nature that she is, she said nothing and accepted her pain as one more cross God expected her to bear. It broke my heart to see her suffer so, but I knew to try to do anything about it would be futile and could cause Dimitri to retreat even further into his shell.

The first month was particularly difficult. For us he was still our little boy, our second youngest child, and it was difficult not to treat him as such. He was, however, a man, and could no longer be treated like he was fourteen. We had watched his brother Alexandros and his sisters, Maria, Sophia and Anna, grow up from infants to children and from teenagers to young adults, the three oldest with children of their own now, and we had modified our relationship with them gradually as they grew into adulthood. His younger brother Nikos was now sixteen and a half and almost an adult himself and we treated him accordingly. We had no such transition time with Dimitri.

Still, all in all things were good despite the tension. Dimitri spent much of that first month staying inside or sticking close to home. Part of the reason for that was because he was hiding from the media. Once the paparazzi found out he had been found, they swarmed down upon our home seeking interviews, and given the nature of his abuse, seeking any titillating gossip that they could report to sell their newspapers and magazines. Our requests to leave us alone were largely ignored and there was nothing we nor the police could do about it other than to hide.

The other reason Dimitri did not venture far was because he had no reason to leave the security of his home. His friends were now in institutions of further education or were working and many had moved away. After "how are you" and "what are you doing now" and "it's nice to see you again" there was not much for them to talk about. They certainly didn't have any common experiences or mutual interests that friends develop throughout their schooling. Dimitri had just begun his grade nine education and his friends of that time had now graduated from high school and many were in college. While his friends had been dating and going to school dances and engaging in high school sports and school clubs, Dimitri, well, Dimitri had suffered eight years and four months of abuse of the most perverse kind. Knowing that made it impossible for his friends to feel comfortable in his presence.

So Dimitri sat in his bedroom night after night with the lights off, or occasionally in the family room watching television with his mother and me. On those occasions, I could not help but glance over at this young man who had returned to be part of my life, and I could not help thinking back to what his life had been like these past eight plus years. Shortly after Dimitri had been kidnapped, I had learned he'd been brutally raped along with his best friend and forced to commit lewd acts that no decent human could ever imagine, in front of and at times with the policeman who should have been protecting him, and all because of the policeman, in retribution for him seeking out child abusers and kiddy porn producers and locking them up. It would have been easy to blame him for what had happened to Dimitri, but I could not. He himself had lost his own son, and he was still missing to this day.

Several months after Dimitri's disappearance I watched a copy of the live cam that had been broadcast that night of his capture and uncovered by the police in their investigation. It showed a self-conscious fourteen-year-old boy blushing with embarrassment as he confessed under duress to masturbating once or twice a day, and then showed him engaging in oral sex with his friend Dany, also fourteen at the time, being finger fucked by his buddy and by a big black man and a greasy looking Paki, being raped by both men and his buddy's father besides, and being forced to suck up his own cum, most of the time being bound ankle to wrist. I cannot describe my shame and embarrassment and my anger seeing that video of my son. No father should have to see his son engaging in such filth. They were images I'd been warned against viewing and advised not to, but I had to see them with my own eyes to believe and to understand what he had gone through. They have been burned into my memory and are impossible to block out. I cannot begin to imagine how painful the memory of that night has to be for Dimitri.

As the days passed into weeks and the weeks into months following his disappearance, it became evident that the police were making no progress in finding him. So I began to do my own searching, which took me to the darkest, grimiest alleys and neighbourhoods of our city and the slums and disreputable neighbourhoods of other cities around the world as I followed one lead and then another. I talked to social workers and street preachers, criminals and prostitutes, and greasy-looking perverts that made my skin crawl, showing them the picture of my fourteen-year-old son, his grade nine entry school picture, dressed in his best clothes, his clean, smiling, handsome face full of joy and high expectations, and asking if they had seen him. I played on their sympathies, the heartbroken father searching for his missing son. When that did not work, I paid to have the picture photo shopped so it looked like he was exposing himself and played the role of a pervert, asking where I might find more pictures of him, where I could find him to take my own pictures, or do the things that I'd seen done to him.

I discovered that only two weeks after his disappearance a video and still pictures of Dimitri had appeared on the Internet. They depicted him in a kiddy porn video playing the role of a teenage Mexican farm worker being raped in an old, dilapidated barn and in a sugar beet field in southern Alberta by immigrant Mexican labourers who, missing their wives and girl friends left behind in Mexico, satisfied their sexual needs with Dimitri. It was not that difficult to imagine Dimitri in such a role given his olive-complexion and dark looks. From the looks on the faces of the men and on Dimitri's face, there was no doubt the rape was real. The rape could have been on any number of sugar beet farms and in any of a number of abandoned, decaying barns, there being no distinguishing characteristics visible in the video, and the men in the video, suspected of being itinerant, had already dispersed and could be anywhere, even back in Mexico. My inquiries were met with resistance and open hostility. Farmers did not want me wandering about their property and looking in their dilapidated buildings, fearing lawsuits should I be injured, or if I found any evidence it was the location of the video. The workers were suspicious of strangers and fearful of the police and would say nothing, and their leaders reclusive and uncooperative. To my surprise most could not even speak English and were illiterate in their native tongue, which I discovered was usually German or occasionally Mexican. To my surprise I learned their children were kept out of school to work in the beet fields. Child labour in my own backyard! The more I learned the more I was convinced that the pornographers had indeed bribed real life itinerant workers to take part in the rape, or perhaps had blackmailed them to do so.

Several months later another video and still photos appeared on the Internet with Dimitri this time playing the role of a horny teenage Mexican slut in a Mexican brothel being gang-banged by a dozen Gringo tourists, the men chosen having to be the roughest and ugliest men they could have possibly found. Experts at the crime lab said they were certain the video had really been shot in Mexico, so I headed to the hovels and cesspools of Mexico City where I was offered young Mexican boys for my pleasure and where at times I feared for my life, but if Dimitri had ever been there I found no evidence. A year later a video surfaced in which Dimitri starred as a peasant boy who being in the wrong place at the wrong time was drugged and raped in a marijuana field by Columbian drug dealers, and in desperation, I headed to Columbia where my life was in danger and where slimeballs promised me boys of any age but not my Dimitri.

Several months later still pictures and a video appeared on the Internet in which Dimitri was dressed in fine silks and veils as a member of an Arab harem and shown pleasing not just his master but his master's guests while they dined. The crime lab experts figured the pictures could have been taken in Pakistan, which given the nationality of his original abductor was highly possible, so against all advice I packed my bags and headed to Pakistan. With my own dark complexion and my Greek accent I was admitted to places where Westerners would not be permitted, and I discovered much to my nausea that boylove is a common practice in much of the country and if you knew the right people and the right places you could sit in the shade in the afternoon sipping tea while a preteen boy knelt under your robes and satisfied you orally.

I never found Dimitri nor anyone who had actually seen him in person, but I made contacts with the filth of the world in my role as a fellow pervert, and I maintained those contacts by exchanging sick pictures of naked young boys, which to my amazement are not that difficult to obtain and which thousands of men around the world trade like they were baseball cards, always hoping that eventually one of those contacts will give me a new lead. Just eight months ago one of those contacts traded me a video clip in which Dimitri, who appeared to be about nineteen, was shown sucking and being sucked by a cherubic blond boy with curly hair and then the boy laying on his back and spreading his legs and being penetrated anally. The authorities had warned me about engaging in such swapping, even threatened to take me to court, but I had friends in law enforcement who were just as sickened by the occurrence of child porn as I was and were willing to help on the sly.

On this latest video they said there was no evidence that Dimitri was drugged or being coerced to engage in these sick acts, and that the boy showed no signs of being drugged either nor of being an unwilling participant. From my contact with these pervs, I know all boy lovers claim that all boys are really horny sluts and participate in their sick pornographic videos because deep down they love sex, and that all boys, even at that tender, formative age of seven, have sexual desires and derive pleasure from sex. I don't believe a word of it, not for a moment. No matter what warped experiences my son has been forced to engage in, he would never do such a thing willingly or consciously, and no child that young could possibly have such desires.

Sickened by these perverted images, I persisted in my desperate search for my son with that belief and faith in my son's purity and innocence despite my discovery that there were hundreds, no, thousands, of people who paid to see such videos, and that there were real people who actually did these foul things, not just actors making porno videos for a few dollars, and that there were street kids who allowed themselves to be abused for money to satisfy their drug habit. I gradually saw my son transformed from a proud and defiant teenage boy being cruelly beaten into submission to a glassy-eyed, drugged monster forcing others to engage in the acts he himself had been forced to engage in. Through it all I came no closer to finding him. I cannot begin to describe how devastating and demoralizing finding such evidence of one's son's existence is for a father, but I would not give up.

Nor did Dimitri. Somehow he survived. He did even more than that. Despite engaging in unprotected sex with hundreds of men, many of them filthy, disreputable scum, he miraculously came out of it without contacting a single STD. And, though in some of the videos I had seen it was evident he had been drugged into submission in order to film him performing the perverse acts he was forced to engage in, he was not addicted and did not drink, do drugs, or even smoke. He was even more physically fit than most young men his age who had lived wholesome, decent lives. Emotionally, on the other hand, he had been numbed by his experiences and once an emotional, expressive boy, like his mother and myself and his siblings, he was now a detached, cold individual who showed no emotion whatsoever. He neither smiled nor frowned and his eyes revealed nothing. I could not imagine the mental anguish he had gone through and was going through now.

As part of the bargaining for his release, and for his own health, I arranged for him to meet weekly with a psychiatrist, one that came highly recommended for child victims. His brother and sisters loved him dearly and attempted to reach out to him of course, but despite having been close to each one of them prior to his kidnapping, he was as cold with them as he was with his mother and me and they each confided in me that he gave them the same impression that I had, that he was a dead man walking, and that they were uncomfortable in his presence. Still, I and his mother were not prepared to give up, and, God bless them, nor were they.

His brother, Alexandros, is five years older, having just turned nineteen and in his second year of trade school when Dimitri had been kidnapped and twenty-seven now. They had been very close and Dimitri had looked up to his older brother who had been a star athlete in high school and very popular. They especially enjoyed watching and playing football and spent many weekends tossing the pigskin in the nearby park and tackling each other. Although married and having a son of his own, my grandson Dominic Aris, and having his own fledgling construction company now, Alex routinely came over every Saturday since Dimitri's return and when the snows melted and it began to warm up encouraged Dimitri to go to the park to play football. Dimitri went, for as I said, he was a complacent individual who did not question nor object when asked to do things, but Alex sadly reported afterward that he went through the motions, and though he was physically very skilled, he showed no emotion for the game nor the time they spent together, and, in fact, cringed when they made any physical contact.

It was on one of those Saturdays, the last Saturday of March, two months after Dimitri's return, that Alex had come over for his routine game of football when he was called away to tend to some emergency at a construction site his company was working on. He normally brought his son along to visit with his grandmother and me and being by herself his wife took the opportunity to go shopping or tend to her own personal pursuits those Saturday afternoons. We told Alex to go ahead and not to worry about his son as we delighted in having him visit, and the boy took great pleasure in visiting with us. Domi was an intelligent, active child, and after playing with him for a couple hours, I found myself exhausted. Leaving him watching afternoon cartoons and under the watchful eye of his grandmother who was cooking up supper for Alex and his wife, who always joined us later in the day, I laid down for a moment and to my surprise fell asleep, waking up forty-five minutes later.

Discovering Domi was not in the living room watching television, which was still on, and finding he was not in the kitchen with his grandmother who did not realize he was no longer watching TV, I headed for Dimitri's room, assuming he was keeping the boy entertained. Although not exactly warm and welcoming, he did greet his three nephews with a touch more cordiality than he did his siblings and his friends. Domi was not a child who made strange with others, and he had that special childish charm that even one as cold as his uncle could not resist and Hellena and I and Alex actually encouraged the two to spend time together whenever Domi came over in the hope that the innocent child might break through the barrier we adults had been unable to breech.

We had left Dimitri's room untouched all the while he was gone, neither of us having the will to change it and both of us having faith that he would eventually return and things would carry on where they had left off. When he returned, he boxed all his belongings he had as a boy and said he would like to repaint his room. Of course we told him he could do whatever he wanted, expecting he would want to change things now he was an adult. We did not expect that he would paint his ceiling and two walls black, one wall a dark blue, and the fourth a dark burgundy. He decorated his room with posters which I was told were gothic images. Some I found were grotesque and disturbing and bordered on worship of the supernatural, but I was assured by his siblings that it was a popular trend with those his age these days and quite innocent so I bit my tongue and said nothing. The ceiling light he changed to a chandelier with a dimmer switch, which he normally kept at the lowest setting, and he set about the room incense burners and candle holders. We bought him a larger bed which he fitted with pale lavender sheets and a black velvet bed spread. It was all very foreign to us and atypical of the son we knew, and his new tastes certainly caused us some concern, but considering everything, it did not seem like an issue worth opposing.

As usual, his door was wide open. We had a long-standing policy in our home of not invading another's privacy, and of keeping no secrets from each other and hence the only door that was ever closed was that to the bathroom. Also as usual, for the new Dimitri, the room was in darkness with only a single scented candle burning. I was about to knock to announce my presence and for permission to enter, as was only proper considering he was an adult and it was his personal space, but not wishing to awake him in case he was napping as he often did since his return and particularly if Domi had joined him on this particular afternoon and was also napping, I stepped silently into the room.

My heart sank with dismay at the sight before me and I froze, uncertain what to say or do. The bedspread and top sheet had been pulled back, and much to my embarrassment lying there on his back was my twenty-two-year-old son, stripped naked, his head and shoulders propped up on his pillows. He was watching my grandson Domi who was also stark naked and sitting cross-legged on the bed beside him. Dimitri had an erection, close to twenty centimetres [8"] long and the shaft almost three fingers thick. My grandson was grasping it with his little fist. The child had an erection also, his penis about the length and thickness of my little finger. I had no idea a child that age could become erect. Dimitri was slowly stroking Domi's little penis, holding it between his thumb and first two fingers, while Domi pumped his fist up and down Dimitri's stiff member. My twenty-two-year-old son and my sweet, innocent grandson, his nephew! Engaged in that forbidden sin, that age-old, poorly kept secret.

As I stood there, Domi suddenly began jerking and twisting, thrusting his hips up and forward and drawing them back while at the same time gyrating his hips left and right as he bounced on the bed. He half moaned and half sighed, a combination of pain, pleasure and surprise. It was obvious what was happening. I had no idea a child still years away from his teens could have an orgasm. What had to be going on through his mind! From the look on his face, his eyes wide and mouth gaping open but the corners curved into a smile, he was obviously experiencing the same waves of pleasure rippling out from the centre of his groin and up his throbbing, blood-engorged little cocklet as older boys experiencing an orgasm, and that pleasure was obviously new and unexpected. What the poor child was thinking experiencing those adult feelings, feelings he should not be aware of never mind experiencing for at least another six years or more, I could not begin to imagine.

I was still standing there transfixed by shock and dismay when Dimitri suddenly arched his back and raised his hips off the bed, and throwing back his head and gasping and shuddering, he sighed with obvious pleasure as his semen began to spurt out of his monstrous penis, squirting high up into the air like a profane fountain and falling back to splat against his thick-haired leg and ooze down the inside of his right thigh. That first squirt was followed by a rapid volley of squirts which spattered his stomach and groin with thick slime while Domi, quivering with the mysterious sensation between his own legs, continued to grasp his uncle's spurting penis. As the force subsided, Dimitri's semen continued to gush out the opening of his erect penis and flow down over his glans and shaft and over Domi's fingers still grasping his uncle's throbbing organ by the base. Domi sat there now staring at his uncle's stiff, fountaining member in his right hand, his big brown eyes wide with surprise and his moist lips parted with wonder.

They were both totally focussed on their own and on each other's orgasm and had not noticed my presence. At last overcoming my initial shock, my first thought was to slip back out the door before I was seen and leave them to their privacy. There is nothing more private than engaging in sex with another person and a wave of guilt passed over me for having intruded on them, accompanied by a wave of shame for having witnessed it. That was quickly followed by a wave of revulsion and another of moral outrage. The church was clear: masturbation was a sin, and to engage in such perversion with another condemned. Even accepting that in today's immoral society such an act was no longer viewed with such condemnation, society had not become so perverted as to accept engaging in such an act between an adult and a child. My good God, he had engaged in this perversion with his nephew, and the boy was not even a third of his age! No decent man could walk away from such a discovery. I had to do or say something about this perverted and forbidden act I had caught them engaging in. Sudden rage built up inside me like a long-dead volcano come to life, replacing my shock and dismay. My blood surged through my veins and pounded in my ears, deafening me, and I opened my mouth to protest but was too overwrought to speak.

Dimitri and Domi slowly came out of the stupor of their orgasms, and they slowly became aware of my presence in the doorway. They raised their heads and looked directly at me. Domi's right hand was still grasping his uncle's organ, still stiff with a pendant of semen hanging from the tip, and the thumb and two fingers of Dimitri's left hand were still gripping his nephew's little penis, which was also still erect. A smile slowly began to curl Domi's lips. Dimitri looked up at me blankly with that dead man expression.

"Did you see Nonno? Did you see?" Domi asked excitedly. "I made Uncle Dimitri's cock squirt just like he said it would!" He glanced at his uncle with the excitement and triumph of a child who had just achieved some miraculous feat, and for a child his age, it was.

"You sure did," Dimitri responded with a long, deep sigh, the beginning of a leer slanting his eyes and curling his upper lip as he looked at his nephew. "You did good, real good."

"It's sticky," Domi observed, wrinkling his nose and holding up his hand, a thin streak of Domi's slimy semen clinging to his fingers and glistening in the dimmed light.

"A baptism of my life-giving juice to introduce you to your new life of sexual awareness," Dimitri said huskily, taking the boy's begrimed hand and holding it up. Reaching down with his other hand, he squeezed his still stiff organ and drew his hand up to the glans, squeezing out a rivulet of thick semen. Catching it up with the tip of his index finger, he reached over and marked the boy's forehead with the sign of the cross with his slime. "In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost," he blasphemed. Lowering his hand, he smeared the remainder of his slime on the tip of the boy's little penis which he was still holding and which was still stiff, causing the boy to squirm with his newly discovered pleasure. "And did you like how I made your cock feel?"

Domi looked at him bright-eyed and with parted lips as he nodded in the affirmative although it was evident he was not so certain.

"And did you like making mine squirt?"

Domi nodded in the affirmative again, this time more energetically. "Can we do it again?"

"We can make yours pop off again," Dimitri replied with a smile, the first genuine smile I had seen cross his lips since his return, "that's the advantage of being your age. But it will take Uncle Dimitri a little while to reload his nuts before he can squirt again." He paused and looked up at me. "Maybe Nonno will let you make his cock squirt." He looked at me blankly as if what he had suggested was the most natural and acceptable thing in the world and something sons normally said to their fathers. Domi looked up at me uncertainly but expectantly.

"Go wash your hands," I said, addressing Domi, finally finding my voice and with extreme effort controlling it. "And your forehead, and use plenty of soap. Grampa needs to talk to Uncle Dimitri."

The boy looked up at me in surprise and with apprehension. He could tell I was displeased from the tone of my voice and I'm sure from the look on my face, and he did not understand why. He also had to know from the tone of my voice and my reaction that what had happened was something very serious and that he had somehow done something wrong, though what it could be he did not know, and could not. Looking down at the floor now with fright and apprehension and on the verge of tears for having done something to upset his Nonno, he slipped off the bed and hesitated, wanting to apologize but not knowing for what.

"Pick up your clothes and I'll come help you put them on in the bathroom." He picked them up quickly and obediently and slipped out of the room, his eyes still downcast, his upper lip quivering.

"How could you?" I asked flatly once Domi was out of hearing range, my voice quivering with rage as I did my best to keep my temper, which under the circumstances took every ounce of restraint I had. I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to slap him. I wanted to shake some sense into him. "How the hell could you? You're, you're, three times his age! He's, he's a child!"

Dimitri looked up at me blankly and shrugged. "He already knew it felt good fiddling with himself. Most kids do by his age. You have to have seen him playing with himself before." I had. I had not made any big deal out of it, just shook my head, and he had stopped. "I just gave him the opportunity to do it with someone else, and to find out what it was like to go all the way to the end."

"Opportunity!" I sputtered. "All the way to the end? What were you thinking? Is that what you're going to tell his father if he finds out what you've done!"

"Why not? That's only fair. Who do you think it was that introduced me to jacking off?" I had never wondered how he had learned about it, not even when I had seen that embarrassing video years ago when he had been forced to admit he committed the sin and did it frequently, daily, sometimes twice a day. All boys learn about it sooner or later, and in today's society, most attempt it at least once I'm told. I had never thought about it since, and I didn't want to know now. "Com'on, it's no big deal. Every guy on earth tries it at some time. I just passed the big secret Alex told me on to his son."

"When Alexandros told you, I'm sure you weren't Domi's age." I also wanted to add that telling someone something and doing it to them are two very different things, and that surely he and Alex hadn't touched each other, and I almost did but I caught myself in time. Of that I was fairly certain, but I could not be sure, and I certainly did not want to know. There are some things a father should never know.

"So Domi's lucky, he's got a seven-year head start over me. Alex should thank me. Domi got the facts given to him straight so he won't feel guilty or ashamed about doing it, to himself or with others, which is more than Alex did when I caught him jerking off in his bedroom. It took me years to shake off those feelings of having done something shameful and that I should feel guilty about." From what Dimitri said he would have been around eleven and Alex fifteen or sixteen. The image of Alexandros being caught by his younger brother with his pants down flashed through my mind. It was a sick image. No father should have a picture of his sons like that in his mind. And how does a father respond to a revelation like that about his sons? "Domi won't be told anything that will make him feel guilty or ashamed about what we did, will he?" he asked, looking up at me. Although his expression was blank, I sensed an accusatory tone.

"I have no intention of discussing with you what I will or will not do regarding my grandson, nor anything further on this matter with you lying there naked and soiled," I replied sharply, not knowing what else to say. I honestly did not know what I was going to say to Domi, or do about this situation. "I need to go help Domi. Get yourself dressed and cleaned up." I turned and marched out of his room angrily. In truth, I fled from his presence.

Domi was, as I had figured, struggling with buttoning his shirt. He looked at me apprehensively as I helped him. He said nothing out of fear of being punished and I said nothing because I did not know what to say. Returning to the living room and sitting in my chair, I was in a quandary what to do. Did I take Domi aside and try to explain to him what Dimitri had done was wrong and that he wasn't to do it with him again? It was not my place to talk about the facts of life or about masturbation with my grandson, and I certainly was not prepared to try to do so, not with a prepubescent child. Did I inform Alexandros and leave it up to him to deal with it with Domi? I couldn't put him in such an awkward position, and I couldn't risk what he might do about the situation when he learned what his younger brother had done. As wrong as it was, Dimitri was my son and I had to protect him.

Throughout supper I could think of nothing else than what I had witnessed, the image of my grandson and my twenty-two-year-old son naked and grasping each other's privates and in the throes of orgasm, Alexandros noticed my distraction and asked if anything was wrong. Dimitri caught my eye and sat there with a blank look on his face, that mask he wore ever since returning home, but I had the impression that behind that mask was a smug look as if daring me to reveal our secret. Hellena observed that Domi had worn me out that afternoon and I had to lie down and we laughed about that, at his active imagination and energy and that his grandfather was growing old. Every time I glanced at Domi I pictured him with Dimitri's erect penis in his hand, semen dripping from his fingers, and him bouncing on the bed with his first orgasm, a child years away from puberty. I could not concentrate and lost track of the conversation around me. Everyone noticed my distraction and was concerned. I assured them it was nothing, and I was just tired, and getting old. At the moment I felt very old.

So did I talk to Domi and explain to him what he and his uncle had done was very private and should be kept a secret, even from his mother and father, and especially from his friends? I wanted to but I would be implying that what they had done was wrong, and although I believed it was, as Dimitri had implied, I could be saddling Domi with shame and guilt at his young age. That I could not do! Besides, if Alexandros found out I had discovered Domi and Dimitri masturbating and had told his son to keep what had happened a secret from him, I would be condoning Dimitri's sin and perverted behaviour and leaving myself open to Alex's wrath and condemnation for covering up what was in this country a crime. Of course if he found out I had discovered them in sin and had said and done nothing I would be leaving myself open to his wrath and condemnation anyway. On the other hand, if I did tell him what had happened, I feared what his reaction would be regarding his younger brother. At long last Dimitri had returned, and even though he was a stranger under my roof, he was my son.

So I did the only thing I could do. I said nothing and hoped it was a one-time occurrence. If I did not make an issue about it and guarded against Dimitri and Domi ever being alone together again Domi would forget about it as children his age are wont to do. It would all just go away and I would have upset nobody. Deep down inside I knew that was the wrong decision and that it would not just go away. Racked with guilt and worries, I kissed my crucifix and asked for forgiveness and the Lord's guidance, and His blessing on my son and my grandchild. I did not sleep well that night.

Chapter 2
This is Marcus Learning to Suck Cock

Seven year old Marcus, Dimitri's sister's son, is introduced to man-boy oral sex by his twenty-two year-old uncle and he in turn introduces his seven-year-old buddy Bobby. Story told by Marcus and videotaped and transcribed by Dimitri for posting.
Characters: Marcus (7yo), Dimitri (22yo), Bobby (7yo).
Mb – cons oral

Ah 3; my name is Marcus. I am seven years old. I go to Saint Francis Elementary School and I am in grade one. I like going to school. I like it best when we read stories. I like stories and I like to read. I don't like when we got to do printing. I like to watch cartoons Saturday morning and I like playing cars and trucks and I like playing with my best friend Bobby 3; And I like to suck cock. This is a video about me learning all about sucking cock. My uncle Dimitri learned me. He is making this video and he said he would put it on the Internet so other kids can see me doing it and see how much fun it is and learn how to do it. He said lots of grownups would like to see me doing it and that it would make them horny. That is when a guy's cock gets hard. That feels really neat when your cock does that. It is fun making other guys horny too. Uncle Dimitri says hearing me say cock gets him horny. It is true. When I say cock his cock starts to swell up and get bigger. It is my magic word.

Uncle Dimitri told me to tell all about how he learned me and to do it to him while he recorded it with his phone and then he would put it on the Internet so guys all over could watch it. Um 3; oh yeah. Uncle Dimitri said he would write what I say on the video cuz he knows a place on the Internet where guys put stories about sucking cock and stuff with kids and so lots of guys can read about it and that will make them horny too 3; I like to make my Uncle Dimitri horny and I think it would be funny to make a bunch of guys I don't even know horny too 3; Um 3; What? What do you mean? Oh, okay.

Uncle Dimitri says to tell you some more about myself and what I look like and stuff for the guys who are gonna read this. I 3; ah 3; got black hair just like my mother and like my Uncle Dimitri. But it's not as long as theirs. Uncle Dimitri wears his real long way past his shoulders. Mine just goes to my collar and over the tops of my ears and over my forehead. I don't got any hair on my arms and legs and my chest like Uncle Dimitri. His is really, really thick. I got blue eyes like them too, my uncle and my mother 3; and Uncle Dimitri said to mention I got long black eyelashes 3; feathery eyelashes 3; and thick lips 3; and a sexy smile 3; and perfect white teeth 3; Oh yeah, we just weighed me and measured how tall I am. I weigh twenty-one kilos [46 pounds] and am one hundred and six centimetres [42 inches] tall 3; Um 3; I got five uncles, Uncle Dimitri and Uncle Alexandros who everyone calls Alex except my Nonno and Nonna. They are my mother's brothers. And there is Uncle James and Uncle Harold who are my father's brothers 3; And Uncle John, who is the husband of my mother's sister Maria. I got a sister who is two and my mother is pregnant. I hope she's gonna have a boy. Uncle Dimitri says she is a real baby machine and likes to feel my dad's cock in her, and that Aunt Maria who is pregnant too is a cock hungry bitch too.

["Tell them what your mom and dad told you, about me. You know, before you met me."]

Okay. Let me think 3; Um 3; my mom and dad said that before I was born some bad men came and took Uncle Dimitri away and did bad things to him and made him do a bunch of bad things. I don't know what xactly cuz it was bad stuff and I'm just a kid so they wouldn't say what it was on account of that just that it was really bad 3; So anyway they said because of all the bad stuff Uncle Dimitri didn't talk much and was sorta sad and liked to be by himself and wasn't like my other uncles. And they said I shouldn't bug him and should just leave him alone when we came to visit Nonna and Nonno but if I saw him I should be nice and smile and not be scared.

["And what else did they say, about you being alone with me?"]

Oh yeah. I heard them talking when we was getting ready to come to visit Nonna and Nonno after Uncle Dimitri come to live with them. My mom said Uncle Dimitri made her 3; ah 3; feel 3; um 3; oh yeah, uncomfortable, and she said that when we were at Nonna and Nonno's she didn't want me to ever be alone when we was there.

["And do I make you feel uncomfortable?"]

Unh-unh.

["Are you afraid of me?"]

No.

["Okay. Tell everyone about the first time we did it. Start from when you got up that morning. Take your time and tell them everything you remember."]

Um 3; okay. It was Easter Saturday. Everybody slept in and then we went to Nonna and Nonno's and Nonna made heaps of pancakes with bacon and strawberries and whipped cream which is our special breakfast on special days. Then we drove to Chestemere Lake for a picnic. Everyone was there, Nonna and Nonno, Aunt Maria and Uncle John, Uncle Alex and Aunt Mikala, Aunt Anna and her boyfriend, and my cousins Domi and Luke, and Uncle Nikos and Uncle Dimitri. My dad and Uncle Alex and Uncle Nikos and Uncle Dimitri played football and Uncle John and Nonno took Domi and Luke and me and my sister and Luke's sisters to play on the playground and Nonna and my aunts and my mom stayed at the picnic table and talked and then took out our picnic lunch they brought and we had lunch. Nonno and my dad cooked hamburgers and hotdogs and the grownups had beer and me and Domi and Luke had pop and when we was done everyone had ice cream and chocolate cake for desert.

Uncle Dimitri and Domi sat beside each other and while we was eating they kept looking at each other and grinning like they had some sort of secret and I could tell Domi was real happy and Uncle Dimitri didn't look sad at all like he usually did. I noticed Uncle Dimitri kept looking at me too, especially when I was eating and he winked and made funny faces which made me laugh. After we ate we went down to the beach and while Domi and Luke and I made sand castles the grownups sat around talking and stuff and Dad and Uncle Alex blew up some beach balls.

Then, let's see 3; After a while Nonno and Nonna got tired so they went up on the grass under the trees where there was shade. Me and Domi and Luke wanted to go back to the playground so Dad, Uncle Dimitri and Uncle Alex and Uncle Nikos took us and our sisters stayed with my mom and my aunts. Ah, then after a bit Aunt Anna came and said they was gonna play lawn darts and needed one more partner. Dad said he'd go play. Then Domi got bored of the playground and said he wanted to go play in the sand again and Uncle Dimitri said that was okay and he'd stay with me and Luke and for Uncle Alex to go ahead and take Domi but Luke said he'd rather go with Uncle Alex. He looked at Uncle Dimitri sort of scared like and I don't think he liked being around Uncle Dimitri.

Uncle Dimitri and Uncle Nikos pushed me on the swings and I went on the slides but then some bigger kids came and hogged the slides and stuff and some girls came by and Uncle Nikos was more interested in them. So Uncle Dimitri told him to go talk to them and said we could go back to the beach and join Domi or go watch the others play lawn darts. After Uncle Nikos went to talk to the girls, Uncle Dimitri said if I didn't want to go to the beach or watch lawn darts, he and I could do something else, something special.

I asked what and he said he noticed I really liked hotdogs. I said I did and was hungry for another one and another pop. He didn't say no like Mom and Dad and said he didn't think there were any more cooked, but if I like wieners, he had a big one I could eat and he smiled. I didn't know what he meant and he looked at me and then down between his legs and back up at me and then down between his legs and I caught on and laughed. He said when he was my age that was what he and his friends called theirs and asked what me and my friends called ours. I said mostly my friends and me called it our thing or our pee-er but some older guys at school called it a wiener. He said there were lots of names for it and asked what my mom and dad called it and I said my mom never called it nothing but dad called it a wee-wee. Uncle Dimitri said a grownup name for it was cock. He said that was a dirty word but he didn't mind if I said it and that was when he told me about how hearing young boys say cock got him and lots of men horny.

So we walked along this path beside the lake and took a path that joined it and went up a hill and sorta disappeared. Uncle Dimitri said he liked to eat wieners too, especially young boy wieners, and that he'd like to eat mine. I said I didn't think it would taste too good and he said it would, and that it feels real good to get it eaten, and he'd show me and if I didn't like it then we would stop but if I liked how it felt he'd like me to eat his too. I said I liked wieners but not that kind and asked if he ate mine how would I be able to pee. He laughed and said we didn't really eat it like a wiener and he asked if I ever tried that kind. I said no of course and he said then I don't really know if I'd like it or not which was right. He took out some packets of relish and mustard and ketchup and said to pull down my pants and underwear and he'd eat mine first. I thought it strange he had that stuff in his pocket and he said he put it in his pocket when we had lunch cuz when he saw me eating hotdogs he was hoping we might do what we was gonna do. I asked if he was really gonna put that stuff on my thing and eat it and he said sure, putting the stuff on was part of the fun but he wouldn't really eat it, just lick it off and suck it.

So I pushed down my pants and underwear and stood there and Uncle Dimitri knelt down in front of me and took the packets and tore them open and put streaks on my wiener and the part that hangs below it that I didn't know had a name but he said had many names and he called my nuts. Then he sat on his heels and put his hands on my hips and he stuck out his tongue and started to lick the stuff off my wiener and nuts. He really did. And then he slipped his mouth around my wiener and began to suck on it and to slide his lips up and down it. When he slid his lips over the end part the end felt itchy but sorta good too and sorta funny. When he stopped I was surprised my wiener was hard and sticking up like it sometimes is when I wake up and have to pee.

Then he slipped his mouth around my wiener again and began to suck some more and when he slid his lips up and down he pushed what my dad calls my hood back like I'm supposed to when I have a bath to clean it and then pulled it back up. That makes your wiener feel weird when you do it and when a guy does it to you over and over with his mouth it feels really weird and really itchy but sorta good too. The more he did it the itchier my wiener got and then it went funny sorta like when your leg or arm or something goes to sleep. Then this real weird thing happened. I began to jerk my hips back and forth and I couldn't stop it and the tip of my wiener began to burn sorta like a scratch does. Rubbing it against his lips made it feel better like scratching an itch makes it feel better and so I pushed my hips forward and drew them back as fast as I could. It felt really strange but sorta good too.

Well Uncle Dimitri asked if I wanted to try doing to his what he had done to mine. I said I didn't think so and he said a guy's wiener really don't taste bad and for me to just lick it and see. Well since he did mine I thought that was only fair. So he pushed down his pants and underwear and his wiener was really huge, way longer than my longest finger and fat around like a sausage. His didn't have a hood like me and my dad have and he said some guys didn't. He had a big patch of hair above it. He gave me the packets of stuff and I put lots of relish and mustard and ketchup on his wiener thinking the more I put on the harder it would be to taste his cock. I learned when I was little to put lots of ketchup on stuff I don't like to eat, like liver, so I can't taste it.

I thought it was gonna be really yucky when I knelt in front of him and stuck out my tongue. I was real happy when all I could taste was relish and mustard and ketchup. As I licked the stuff off his wiener it began to get bigger. He said that was because his cock was liking what I was doing, just like mine had liked being licked and sucked by him and had gotten swollen up too. I put lots of ketchup and stuff on so I hadda do a lotta lickin'.

Then he told me to try sucking it like he done to me. I didn't wanna cuz I had licked off all the ketchup and stuff but I thought I'd just try it. I was real surprised. It didn't have no taste. And it was way better than liver. So I sucked some more and slid my lips up and down cept I couldn't go all the way down cuz his wiener was too long. His cock kept swelling so I knew it was liking it and I know I'd liked it when he had done it to me so I kept doing it as I thought I should make him feel good like he made me feel good since he made me feel good. It got really hard and really big so I could just get the bump at the end in my mouth. When my mouth filled up with spit I had a hard time swallowing it cuz my mouth was full of cock! My spit tasted different. Sortta like what a raw wiener tastes like I think.

After a bit my jaw and neck began to get tired and sore but he said to do it just a little bit longer cuz he was about to come which he said is what they call what happened to me at the end. And he said when a guy is older his nuts make a special juice that he squirts out when he comes. He said not to worry and when it happens to just swallow. I didn't think that a good idea at all but I couldn't say nothing with my mouth full of his cock and before I could think how to tell him he said he was coming and he did. It was hot and slimy and sorta 3; ah 3; like a pill I sometimes have to take when I get a cold, and real thick like snot and it filled my mouth so fast I had to swallow or I would choke. There was so much I couldn't swallow fast enough and some oozed out of my mouth and down around my chin. Uncle Dimitri squirmed and jerked and grabbed my head tight and breathed real hard. I could tell he was really liking it a lot and that made me feel good that he was liking it and feeling good. I thought about what I heard my mom saying about him being sad and I was glad that I was able to make him happy.

When we was done we pulled our underwear and pants up and went to the beach and I played with Domi and Luke. Uncle Alex and Uncle Dimitri went for a long swim but I thought the water was too cold. Then we went up to see mom and dad and my aunts and had some pop and cake and chips. It was a really great picnic!

["That was very, very good. Now tell what we did it with Domi."]

Okay. It was the next day, Easter Sunday. We all went to church that morning like we always do and then went to Nonna and Nonno's house like we always do, and Uncle Alex and Aunt Mikala and Domi and everyone was there. While the grownups visited Domi and me played outside and Domi really wasn't that interested and kept trying to leave and finally said he really wanted to go and play with Uncle Dimitri. Well I was hoping you and me - oh, Uncle Dimitri and me that is - might do what we did at the picnic again so we both went in. The grownups were looking at old pictures and didn't notice us and we saw Uncle Dimitri wasn't there so we went to see if he was in his room and he was.

He was real happy to see us and Domi right away asked if we could do their special thing. Well Uncle Dimitri said that would be fine if I wanted to too. I didn't know what it was and wanted to say I'd rather suck cock but I didn't know if Uncle Dimitri wanted Domi to know about that secret so I said sure. We all pushed down our pants and underwear so I knew it was gonna be something fun. We sat on Uncle Dimitri's bed and Uncle Dimitri reached over and took my cock between his thumb and first two fingers and began to rub it and showed me how to do it to Domi who did it to Uncle Dimitri. Uncle Dimitri said doing it was called 3; jacking off 3; and that when a bunch of guys did each other it was called a 3; I forget.

["Jerk circle."]

Oh yeah, a jerk circle. It felt funny having someone rubbing my cock like that and funny doing it to my cousin. His wiener was really small like a little worm but it started to swell and get hard and so did mine and Uncle Dimitri's. It felt good getting rubbed, like scratching an itch, and the way Domi was really concentrating on jacking off Uncle Dimitri and watching me doing him I knew he was feeling good too, and Uncle Dimitri's cock was hard so he had to be feeling good too. Well after a while my cock started to feel funny and I knew it meant I was going to come soon and I really was looking forward to it when Uncle Dimitri stopped and said we should just sit and 3; ah 3; yeah, concentrate on how good we were feeling, and then he'd show us something new. So we sat there and thought about how good our cocks was feeling and how good it was to make each other feel good. Then Uncle Dimitri said the game he was going to learn us was called a daisy chain. He had us lay down on his bed in sort of a circle. Then he took my cock in his mouth and had me take Domi's cock in my mouth and Domi take his cock in his mouth. Then we all began to suck. It was sorta different from when Uncle Dimitri and I did it and sorta the same. For one thing Domi's little cock was just as big as my little finger and I was able to put it all in my mouth and suck on it like a little straw right down to his belly. After a bit my cock began to feel tingly and then I got that feeling where I began to jerk my hips and couldn't stop it and Domi was squirming too and his cock was hot and hard and I felt it throbbing in my mouth, and then I was coming and so was Uncle Dimitri. Domi tried hard to swallow Uncle Dimitri's juice but couldn't and got sprayed in the face with gobs and gobs of it which I thought was funny. Uncle Dimitri had some Kleenex and he wiped off his cock and Domi wiped off his face and Domi and me promised it would be our secret and we wouldn't tell nobody what we done.

["You did very well telling."]

You want me to tell about me and Bobby now?

["You and Bobby?"]

Unhuh. I learned him how to suck cock.

["Wow! I didn't know that. Yeah, tell all about it."]

Well, after we did the daisy circle-.

["Daisy chain."]

Oh yeah. After we did that, one day when Bobby was at my house after school-.

["Tell who Bobby is and what he looks like, and something about him. Like when we started this afternoon."]

Oh. Okay. Bobby is my very best friend. He lives down the street from me and we are in the same class at school. He sits right across from me. We always play together at recess and me and him play almost every day after school. He really likes to draw and stuff and he's really good at it. He's got an older brother and sister and a younger brother and sister. Well, one day after school-. Oh yeah, what he looks like. Well, him and me are about the same, the same tall and weigh the same I mean. We both got blue eyes too, but his hair is yellow 3; and real curly. He likes to play cars and trucks too and he don't like girls just like me. I don't know what he likes and don't like at school 3; Okay. So he came over after school like he usually does and we played for a while and Mom said she has to run to the store and she'll only be gone half an hour and for us not to leave the house or get into anything.

Well, I thought that was a good time to learn Bobby about jacking off and sucking cock. So I asked him if he knew what that was and he said no. I told him it was even more fun than playing cars and trucks. We was in my room so we pushed down our pants and underwear and compared our cocks and nuts. His has a hood just like mine and looks the same. Then I showed him how to jack off, and after we did it a little bit and nothing was happening to his I suggested we try doing each other's. That was fun and sorta exciting cuz a guy's thing is private and nobody is supposed to touch it. His started to swell which he said it never done before and was amazing. He says 'amazing' a lot. So we did it some more until Bobby said his was feeling funny like it had gone to sleep and I said that was supposed to happen and the next part was really great. So we did it more until we came. Bobby jerked and bounced on the bed and his eyes were big and he said it felt real amazing but was kinda scary. It was specially good cuz it was something secret and we did it with that part that is real private.

I said there was something just as great we could do. Well when I told him he said I was nuts and there was no way he was going to put my cock in his mouth especially since we didn't have no mustard and ketchup and stuff. I said I would suck his and he would see how good it felt. Well he still thought I was nuts but he sat on the edge of the bed and I knelt between his legs and began to lick and suck his cock and his nuts and his cock began to get hard again and he said that it did feel good like I said it would. So I sat on the edge of the bed and he knelt between my legs and licked my cock and found it didn't taste bad at all and was actually sorta exciting. He said it was not different than sucking his thumb, and I said it was even better than sucking thumbs and way better than eating liver and he laughed and said that was for sure. So we laid down on my bed and sucked on each other's cock. Mine was real hard and the end real itchy and feeling good and Bobby's was hard too and the way he was squirming I know his was feeling good too. When we both came it was really great fun! Then we heard my mother come home so we pulled up our pants and underwear real quick. We are gonna do it again and again, lots of times!

["Wanna do each other now?"]

Sure!

[Propping his phone up on his dresser, Dimitri joined his nephew on his bed where the boy had been sitting. Pulling off the boy's T-shirt, Dimitri pulled off his pants and underwear, taking his socks with them so the boy was sitting on the edge of the bed naked. Spreading apart his legs, he zoomed the camera in to show the boy's tiny privates and then his smiling face before kneeling between his legs and proceeding to lick the boy's cocklet and balls. Marcus was hard in no time and again Dimitri zoomed in to show the boy's little erection, the hood of his cock stretched back and revealing his plum-red bulb. As he swirled his tongue over it, the seven-year-old squirmed with obvious pleasure. Giving it a thorough licking, he slipped his lips over it and began to suck, and the boy squirmed and tensed with the pleasure rippling through his little cocklet no bigger than a man's thumb. In no time the boy's eyes glazed over and he was squirming and jerking and whimpering with an obvious orgasm.

Stripping down and chucking his clothes aside, Dimitri positioned himself in front of the camera. He was already rock hard and his twenty-centimetre cock was jutting up between his legs eager for attention. Grasping it by the base, the seven-year-old ran his tongue up the shaft and swirled it about the exposed glans eagerly as if licking an ice cream cone. He continued until the first droplets of clear pre-cum oozed out of the man's slit and again Dimitri zoomed in for a closeup. With an eager grin, Lucas stuck out his tongue and flipped up the sweet nectar into his mouth, clearly having done this before.

He then slipped his mouth over the blood-engorged knob, barely being able to take it in his mouth, and his downy cheeks sunk in as he began to suck. His clear blue eyes sparkled with lust as his rosy lips slid up and down over the rim of the man's glans and the boy concentrated on the task before him with all the eagerness and delight of a seven-year-old child doing what he enjoyed doing. For the next several minutes the only sounds were the heavy breathing of the couple, the twenty-two-year-old uncle and his seven-year-old nephew, and the slurping and sucking of the cock-hungry child. Dimitri began to squirm and warned his nephew he was about to shoot. His hairy chest rising and falling, Dimitri finally tossed his head back and stared up at the ceiling as his lips parted and he sighed and gasped with the first spurts of his orgasm.

The boy's Adam's apple bobbed as he eagerly began to swallow and the man's thick slime streamed out between the corners of his mouth and flowed down around his chin as the man filled his mouth with his thick, hot cream. Spurt after spurt shot into the boy's mouth and the boy swallowed repeatedly and the man arched his back and thrust upward, his swollen nuts forming a tight hairy ball beneath his shaft. The boy continued to suck long after the man had come, draining his shaft and his balls of their precious fluid. Finally slipping his rosy lips off the man's bulb, he grinned up at the camera happily, his smooth cheeks flushed with exertion and pleasure, his lips coated with a film of slime that hung in strands inside his mouth and formed a ring about his chin. This is Marcus sucking cock.]

Chapter 3
The Private Tutor

Fourteen-year-old grade nine student Justin is chosen to tutor Dimitri in mathematics twice a week. Naive and virgin, he quickly discovers Dimitri's real intent is to tutor him in man-boy sex. Story told by Justin.
Characters: Justin, Dimitri.
Codes: Mt – noncons mast oral anal

"Would you stay behind a moment please, Justin?"

"Uh-oh, you're in trouble now."

"Yeah. Bet you're going to get a lecture for only getting ninety-nine percent on yesterday's assignment."

"Naw. Whiting needs a thrill. He wants the geek to drop to his knees and give him a goose with his nose."

"The brown-noser would do it too!"

The first two comments were sarcastic but said in a teasing voice and were meant to be funny even though they hurt, a lot. The last two were cruel and said out of jealousy, loud enough for me to hear but not Mr. Whiting. I pretended not to have heard but they knew I had. What they did not know was how much their comments hurt. Whoever said "sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me" didn't know twat. As they left the room I don't know who I was madder at, them, or me for not speaking up. Chicken shit. Dork. Geek. That was me.

"I've been approached by a young man about getting some extra help in mathematics," Mr. Whiting said after the class had left. "He's taking a correspondence course and asked me to recommend a good tutor. He had to interrupt his grade nine education eight years ago and wants to pick up where he left off. He's quite bright. It shouldn't be that difficult, and the pay is good if you're interested."

"Yeah, I suppose," I replied in surprise with a shrug of my shoulders.

"His name is Dimitri Savalos." Now that was even more of a surprise. I looked at Mr. Whiting curiously. Surely he had heard the stories. "You know who he is."

"Yeah. Sure." You would have had to have been a hermit not to. The newspapers had big articles about him when he returned, and there were a lot of rumours about him, that he had done queer stuff with guys, older guys when he had been kidnapped, and little kids when he was older, and that he still did mess around with guys. Some parents thought he was dangerous and shouldn't be allowed to live where there were kids, which I thought was dumb. Where was there any place in the world that didn't have children? The South Pole? Other parents felt sorry for him and said people should go out of their way to welcome him. There were big arguments between the two groups with letters to the editor and meetings about it. My father was of the first opinion and my mother of the second, which resulted in arguments right in our own home. Myself I didn't have an opinion, but it was sortta creepy knowing there was a guy like that living in our city.

"Then you can understand why he wants to keep this tutoring thing a secret. He doesn't want the media to find out and make a big issue out of it. You know how the media can blow everything out of proportion. It could even prevent him from furthering his education and I'd hate to see that happen. So, if you'd like the job, it wouldn't be a wise thing to mention it to any of your friends, probably not even your parents for that matter. The fewer people who know the less chance word will slip out. Only you and I would know and it would be best to keep it that way. You understand."

"Yeah. Sure." I understood the need for secrecy, and not just for him. If certain of my classmates found out I was seeing a guy who messed around with teenage boys I knew exactly what sort of things they'd be saying, and not behind my back. That Mr. Whiting would suggest keeping it a secret even from my parents was a surprise and should have set off warning lights, but when I thought of what my father would say and the arguing that would result with my mother, I figured it was a good point. My dad definitely would not approve.

"You mentioned pay?"

"Two sessions a week, probably an hour each, two at the most, twenty dollars an hour."

Forty to eighty dollars a week! That was good pay! And mathematics was my favourite subject. "Yeah, I'd be interested." And I certainly would not tell my Dad, not for that sort of pay.

So, that Sunday at precisely 9:45 I showed up at his doorstep as instructed–Mister Whiting was emphatic about the time. He met me at the door and took me directly to his room. He looked like a perfectly normal guy–he didn't have horns growing out of the top of his head or anything. The room on the other hand was nothing like I would have ever imagined. The ceiling and two walls were painted black, one wall a dark blue, and the fourth a dark burgundy, and they were covered with pictures of barbarians in skins and carrying clubs and spears, satyrs and devils with their genitals visible, and posters of Calvin Klein models in tight jeans and briefs and preteen Joe Cool models. Incense burners and candles were arranged about the room, on his desk and on a dresser that looked more like an altar with a picture of Jesus hanging above it. A large double bed with a black velvet cover and lavender sheets and pillows took up almost half the room.

I was nervous as heck he being the only one at home, and having never tutored anyone before I was not sure what to do, but he had his math text open to the section he was studying and we got right down to business. The two hours went by quickly and at exactly 11:45 I was ushered out the door with two twenties in my pocket. The following Thursday I showed up right after school. I was met at the door by his mother, who looked quite surprised and a bit worried and I thought she was going to send me away, but Dimitri showed up and informed her that I was tutoring him in mathematics and that I had been recommended by Saint Joseph's. I could see she disapproved but was impressed I was from Saint Joseph's. She didn't say anything.

Again the next two hours passed by quickly and we focussed again on the lesson the whole time, the only interruption being when his mother timidly arrived at his door after about an hour with milk and cookies, as if we were two kids. He thanked her but told her firmly that we had to concentrate and could not be interrupted. She didn't return, but I had the impression that she was hovering around in the hallway several times over the next hour. He did brush his knee against mine occasionally, but we were sitting side by side as we went over the textbook, and he occasionally placed his hand on my shoulder or on my thigh as he leaned over to see an illustration in the textbook, all very innocent and hardly unusual given our tight quarters. Besides, I know some families and cultures have no qualms about physical contact and I had a feeling he and his family were of that type. Again I went home forty dollars richer. I had been stupid worrying and I was thankful I hadn't told Dad or I wouldn't be rolling in the dough. It just showed a guy shouldn't listen to rumours.

The next Sunday I arrived eager to continue our lessons, totally relaxed and relieved that my worries had been foolish. He was very bright, as Mr. Whiting had said, and that made it easy, but it also meant in no time he would be caught up to me even though he had quit at the beginning of Grade nine and it was now the end of April so I was eight months ahead of him. Once that happened I'd have to quit tutoring him and that would be the end of the eighty bucks a week. That was a chuckle. One day I'd been worried about doing this, and now I worried it was going to come to an end. The first fifteen minutes went by as any other time, but then for the first time since we'd begun, he stopped talking about mathematics and started talking personal.

"So, Justin, I imagine you have a lot of girlfriends."

"Not really," I replied, surprised by the question right out of the blue like that, and especially with him being eight years older than I was.

"Com'on now. You're not that bad looking, and you're smart and pleasant."

"Smart guys aren't that popular with girls."

"Humph. Was the same when I was in grade nine too. Things haven't changed. But you have one girl in particular you have the hots for? One you jack off thinking about at nights?"

"No," I replied uncomfortably. "Now, the formula for this next quest–."

"Don't you like girls?"

"Sure. Of course I do," I said, more emphatically than I normally would. I could not help thinking about the rumours about him and guys and I started to get real nervous. Maybe I should have lied and made like I was real macho or something.

"Maybe you like guys better?" he asked, placing his hand on my thigh, confirming the rumours, at least to my mind. Good God, he was coming on to me! My heart began racing. What did a guy do in a case like this?

"No!" I said, definitely more loudly than I normally would have. I quickly pulled my leg away.

"It's okay if you do. You'd be surprised how many guys have the hots for other guys."

"I don't," I replied, tense as all heck now. "Not at all!"

"Have you ever done anything with a guy, sexually?"

"No. Nothing." My voice cracked. God, why did it crack now when I wanted it to sound deep and masculine? "Now we need to get back–."

"Have you ever done anything sexually with a girl?"

"No," I admitted more hesitantly. I would never have admitted that with the guys, but I wasn't thinking straight. And this wasn't one of the guys. He was twenty-two for God's sake! In hind sight I realized I should have said I did. That I did everything there was to do with a girl, even more. God, now that didn't make sense. I was panicking!

"Not even kiss?"

"We need to focus on–."

"You've never kissed?" he persisted.

"No. Now–."

He turned and taking me in his arms, kissed me, forcefully, and as I struggled to break away he held me more tightly, his lips still pressed against mine. Good God that was gross! When he finally released me, I stood up and backed away from the desk like I'd just been attacked by a rabid dog. My heart was racing. He got up too and wrapped his arms about me, his hands grasping my butt. Oh God, my butt! As he lowered his head to kiss me, I turned my face away.

"Don't," I protested as he gave my cheek a peck.

"You're fourteen and a guy and not making out with a girlfriend? You might not be interested in guys, but don't tell me you're not horny." His right hand slipped over my hip and groped me between the legs, his left still grasping my butt cheek. Unable to wiggle out of his clutch, I reached down and tried to push his right hand away. "That's enough math for today," he said as he squeezed my crotch. "Let's get our nuts off."

"No. Dimitri, don't." As he began to pull down my fly I tried to stop him but he was stronger and older, and experienced at this.

"You can go ahead and struggle. Even scream. In fact I like it that way, in the beginning anyway. My parents and kid bro are at church so nobody's gonna hear you." "I'm not interested! I'm not into guys!" Oh God, my voice cracked again. "So stop. I mean it," I protested as I tried to squirm out of his grasp. "I'll report you!" I warned desperately when he continued groping me between the legs.

He laughed. It was an evil laugh. Not like in the cartoons, but for real. It chilled me to the bone. My backbone that is, not the one developing between my legs. Oh God, I was getting a bone on! "Report me? To who? The police? You'll really tell them I messed with you? Bet your mom and dad would be delighted to learn that. The police will have to tell them you know." He smiled at me knowingly. "And of course the papers will jump all over something like that. A teenage boy and a man. They love that sort of news. Believe me, I know. Course they won't report your name being a minor, but they will mine. People will start putting two and two together. You're the math genius, figure it out. Two plus two equals me and a Saint Joseph's Academy student, a grade nine mathematics genius. I wonder who that is?" He had my fly down and his hand was inside cupping my stuff. His hand was hot and I had a pain in the pit of my stomach and my heart was pounding so I should be having a heart attack.

"The police wouldn't release details like that."

"Of course they wouldn't. But reporters ask questions and word gets out. But let's talk about your parents. They know about the money I've been paying you?" Of course they didn't, and he could tell the answer from the look on my face. "Forty bucks a session for a math lesson? Or maybe for some fag fun? Which will they believe? Especially since you haven't even told them you've been tutoring me, have you?" He knew I hadn't. He popped open the top of my jeans and pushed them down over my hips along with my briefs. Good God! This couldn't be happening!

"They'd know I wouldn't do anything like that. Not willingly," I said as I tried to push him back. Crap, he had my balls in his hand.

"How do you think your parents will look at you knowing you had sex with a guy, willingly or not willingly?" His fingers released my balls and slipped around my dick. "Think your dad will be able to look at you without thinking that some guy had his hands on your cock? Or that you messed with some guy's dick?" My dad wouldn't, definitely he wouldn't. Dimitri released my dick and cupped both my ass cheeks and squeezed them. "Fuck. You got a nice ass. Small, smooth, compact and firm." He ran a finger up my crack and pressed his fingertip against my hole. "It's going to be a delight fucking you." He laughed as my eyes widened and my heart suddenly stopped beating and sank. "Yeah, that's right. I'm going to fuck you. I've been waiting for this day the moment you rang my doorbell." He reached up and unbuttoned my shirt and ran his hand over my chest, his eyes gleaming with lust and I just stood there like I was frozen, staring like a deer caught in the headlights. Pushing me back onto the bed, he yanked off my pants and underwear, one sock coming off at the same time.

"Now we can do this rough and raw and you won't be able to sit down for the next week, or you can cooperate and we can grease up your little fuck hole and make it less painful for you. Don't matter which way for me. I like it both ways" I believed him. He stepped back and opened the drawer to the night stand beside his bed and took out a tube the size and shape of a toothpaste tube. I had to get out of there, now, pantsless or not!

He ordered me to raise my legs and when I hesitated just a second as I wondered how I was going to get out of the room, he grabbed my ankles and raised my legs and pushed them up and back over my body so my butt was raised off the bed. He twisted me around a bit and then using his left arm and his weight to hold my legs back, he twisted the cap off the tube and wedging the end in my anus he squeezed some of the contents up my rectum. I tried to break away but he had me practically upside down and I had no leverage and he was surprisingly strong. Besides, he knew exactly what he was doing. He squeezed a bit more of the stuff on my anus. It felt warm and greasy. He worked it into my hole with the tip of his index finger, inserting his finger up to the first knuckle and I arched my back but could not break his hold and all I managed to do was impale myself further on his finger.

"Take it easy fuck boy. You'll get your hole stuffed soon enough," he laughed. "With something bigger and much more pleasurable." This could not be happening.

Letting my legs drop, he quickly unbuckled his belt and unsnapped the top of his jeans and pulled down his fly. He pushed his jeans down to mid-thigh and then slipped his hands in his jockey briefs and pushed them down far enough to expose himself. Instead of making my move, I just laid there like a dumb jerk staring at his privates. It was the first time I'd ever looked at another guy's stuff directly. Sure, guys got glimpses of each other when they changed for gym or the pool, or in the showers, but out of the corner of their eyes. You didn't look directly at a guy's stuff, ever! In fact you looked everywhere else but. He was erect, his cock circumcised and the cap markedly mushroom-shaped and dark, the shaft only a slightly lighter swarthy colour like the rest of his skin. His cock was immense, and so were his hairy balls. He squeezed a dollop of the clear gel on the cap and down his shaft, and then tossing the tube on his desk, he smeared the grease over his knob and shaft with his first two fingers and then picked up my underwear and used them to wipe off his fingers. As he approached, his greased cock looked unbelievably huge, at least twenty centimetres long and over two fingers thick, at least seven centimetres longer than mine and way thicker. There was no fucking way that was going to fit up my asshole.

Grabbing my ankles, he raised my legs again and roughly pushed them back and down so my feet were almost touching my head and my butt was raised again off his bed. Holding my legs like that with his left arm, he dropped to his knees on the bed and grasping his cock with his right hand, he directed it toward my anus. As I felt it, hard and hot and greasy, press against my anus, I did what any guy would do–any straight guy–I clamped my anus closed. He continued pushing forward and I clamped down tighter. We grunted and snorted, him trying to get his dick up my ass, me trying to stop him. Slowly I felt the cap of his cock stretching open my anus. He was rock hard and it was as if his dick was made of steel. His dickhead wedged in my hole, he pressed forward relentlessly and I could feel the cap slowly stretching my anus open more. I gritted my teeth and clenched my eyes shut with the excruciating pain and dumb ass that I was I clenched my anus closed all the tighter. Despite my desperation, I could not fight his lust, and the lubrication besides. Slowly the bulb of his cock continued to stretch open my sphincter and then his cap popped inside me and my anus closed behind it about his shaft.

"Oh God, you are so fucking tight! This is going to be fucking beautiful!" I had put up the fight of my life and he was delighted.

That was not how I was feeling about it. He was ecstatic, I was mortified. I had a guy's dickhead up my ass! I was about to be fucked, like a woman! By a guy! To make things even worse, I felt tears welling up in my eyes and they began trickling down my cheeks! Crap, I was crying, like a little baby! In part it was the pain. In a greater part it was the humiliation. I was straight damnit. Straight! Grasping my uplifted legs by the calves, he pushed his hips forward, driving his cock up my ass like a hot knife spearing a block of butter. I could do absolutely nothing about it. Centimetre by centimetre I could feel him penetrating my body. He continued to push until his hairs were pressing against my backside and my rectum was stuffed with his thick, hard cock. It felt like a pole had been shoved deep up my asshole. I was filled with anger at having being penetrated, with humiliation at being used for his pleasure, with shame for engaging in this perverted, sinful act, and with dread what would happen if anyone ever found out, all together.

He slowly drew his hips back, easing his cock back out of my rectum, sending ripples of . . . of stimulation . . . through my anus. And then he shoved it in again, sending shards of pain and of arousal through my stretched anus. Pain and arousal. It hurt like hell, but was . . . stimulating too. Over and over he withdrew and entered me, again and again, each time sending ripples of pain and arousal out from my abused anus. I was getting fucked! Sex is supposed to be pleasurable, even between guys if they are fags, or so everyone said, but I was no fag and I felt no pleasure in being forced to engage in this filthy perversion.

As I lay there, my legs spread and in the air, I kept thinking over and over of that fact, that I was being fucked, that he was using me, using me like a goddamn woman. Doing this had been his goal the day he had approached Mister Whiting to find him a tutor. Of that there was no doubt in my mind. He had no desire to advance his education, and even if he did, he didn't need a tutor. Like I said, he was smart. I was the one who was dumb, dumb to have fallen for this. Mister Whiting was probably one of those who took the same side as my mum. He was kind that way, which made him the type of teacher everyone liked. And so he had been fooled too. Treat the poor, unfortunate boy with kindness and sympathy. He needed our help and understanding. Mister Whiting would be very upset to find out he had been tricked, angry even, but he would never know. I certainly would not be telling him and nor would Dimitri. This was totally dumb. I was lying there being raped and I was thinking of Mister Whiting and glad he would not know he had been used. That was crazy. When people had sex they were supposed to be thinking about doing it.

I thought about what it was like doing it. I was feeling no pleasure, but I was feeling arousal, and as I slowly realized that, I could think of nothing else. My anus burned with irritation, an irritation not unlike the burning feeling one feels around the rim of his cap when he washes it. The same feeling. Despite my anger and humiliation, I began to become erect. Being fourteen years of age, becoming erect was not a new experience. I found myself in that condition frequently upon waking up, and whenever I thought about the girls in my class and fantasized making out with them. As I had said earlier, smart guys are not all that popular with girls, and I knew most of them considered me a nerd and would never go out with me let alone have sex with me. I don't know why, but I thought about that as I lay there on my back, my legs spread and above my head and a guy's pecker pumping in and out of my ass. Well, screw them. Who needed them? I was having sex without them. God that was dumb. If they had despised me before, I wondered what they would think of me now if they knew I'd been had by a guy, had like a girl. I knew what the guys thought of me and what they would think now. God, why was this happening to me?

Dimitri was panting heavily by then and was thrusting his cock in and out of my burning asshole furiously. My own cock was swollen and numb and gradually I felt a familiar pressure developing in my loins and a familiar ache at the base of my cock. I tried to quell the sensations, but the more I fought them the stronger they became. Now of all times! That was ridiculous! This whole experience was ridiculous! It was sick. I tried desperately to ignore the sensations, which just seemed to magnify the need all the more until I knew I was not going to be able to hold it back. Any guy reading this knows what I mean. Once you think of it you can't think of anything else. Why now!

"Stop!" I gasped, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Please! Please," I begged. "I have to pee! Bad! I ... I can't hold it back! Oh crap!" My pecker was jutting out above me, pointing right at me.

As if voicing my need was the acknowledgement my body was waiting for, I felt the familiar burn suddenly begin racing up the core of my cock! No! God not now! My heart leaped in my chest and I stared helplessly up at my stiff cock jutting out above my head as the burn reached my opening. To my total surprise, what gushed out was not what I thought it was going to be! It was white and gooey, like the white of a poached egg, not yellow, and it shot out in spurts rather than flowed in a steady stream. As the hot, gooey slime spattered my shirt and began to soak into it, I realized it had to be my semen, the first ever to leave my body. My peehole burned and my stiff cock throbbed hotly. Oh God, I was spraying my shirt and my chest with my stuff! Spurt after spurt erupted from my stiff cock and my cock jerked and throbbed and burned with the pleasure of my first ejaculation, recoiling with each blast of semen like a shotgun. That thought and the shock of the first release of my juice caused me to snort with laughter. Bam! Bam! Bam! I was shooting myself with shots of hot, slimy semen. God my peehole was on fire and my dickhead felt wicked! The force of my ejaculation subsided and my slime began to ooze out and land on my body in hot, slimy globs, and finally it hung in a slimy thread from the tip of my cock with a pearly white-translucent globule at the end. I laid there gasping and panting and staring at my cock, at my semen, my cheeks flushed and hot and feeling like they were sunburnt. Holy crap!

And then Dimitri trembled and gasped. I had totally forgotten about him. As I felt his stuff spurting up my rectum, I realized I was gasping just as hard as he was, or was it he who was gasping as hard as me? He grasped me tightly and groaned and sighed with his pleasure as he rammed his thick cock up my asshole as far as he could and he filled my rectum with his hot, thick semen. He grunted and gasped and snorted as he spurted his stuff deep up my ass, as he filled me with his slime, filled me like a man fills a woman. It took forever. Throb, spurt, throb, spurt, throb, spurt. My orgasm had been so fast. I could feel his hot, thick semen spurting up my rectum and I imagined it mixing with my shit. My stiff cock was leaking more of my own stuff and the pendant broke to land in a blob on my belly, another pendant quickly forming to take its place. I lay there in a daze. I had been fucked and filled with a guy's slime like a girl, and I had come, I had come for the first time in my life. He finally drew back his hips, drawing his cock out of my rectum. It exited with a pop and a foul puff of air. He sat back and looked down at me for the longest time.

"Was that the first time you've cum?" he asked huskily, his broad, hairy chest still heaving with exertion, his eyes now slanted with lust.

"Yes," I replied in a whisper, guessing he was referring to my ejaculation. I lowered my legs and lay there spread-eagled. My legs were aching painfully, like I'd just done four laps around the track.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, staring down at me, his eyes gleaming. "That was a fantastic piece of ass. A fucking virgin, an all the way around virgin, an asshole that's never been fucked, and a boy who's never cum! Never cum!" he repeated, shaking his head. "Fucking awesome! It's been a fucking long time since I've had a piece of ass so good."

He slipped back off the bed and stood and I slowly sat up, embarrassed and ashamed. His cock was still erect and smeared with my ass slime and his semen and a pendant of his semen hung from the tip. His huge balls were swollen and drawn up tight beneath his cock. My cock was still stiff also and I noticed for the first time my balls were swollen and drawn up into a tight ball too, like they do when they get cold. A streamer of my slime hung from the tip of my cock. I became conscious of a thick blob of my stuff oozing down my stomach and into my hairs. Plucking a couple sheets of tissue out of the box on his desk, he wiped off his cock and holding the tissue over his cap he squeezed his cock and drew his fist up the shaft several times, squeezing out the remainder of his semen. Tossing the sodden tissue into his wastepaper basket, he tossed the Kleenex box at me and then stood there watching as I wiped the gobs of semen off my body, off my shirt and chest and stomach. It was wet and sticky and the sodden Kleenex stuck to my fingers. My stuff had soaked into my shirt and it stuck in my hairs like glue and was impossible to wipe up. I gingerly wiped off the tip of my swollen cock and grimaced with the sharp pleasure that pierced my bulb and caused me to tense. It was painful, but it was pleasurable too.

He began to get dressed, so I did also. Embarrassed to hell and feeling dirty, I stepped into my underwear and pulled them up. I felt the grease he had wiped off his fingers and my briefs stuck to my butt. Another dollop of my stuff oozed out of my cock, now half hard and half soft, and I felt it spread over my stomach and through my hairs, hot and wet and sticky. I put on my trousers and zipped them back up and tucked my shirt in and buttoned it as he sat on the edge of his desk and watched me, a smile of satisfaction on his lips but with that same scarey look in his eyes. There were dark blotches where my slime had soaked into my shirt and my underwear was stuck to my stomach. My asshole felt wet and sore and very empty and I imagined his semen oozing out of my hole and soaking into my underwear.

"You don't look very happy for a guy who's just lost his virginity," he observed. My cheeks felt as if they were on fire and he laughed but it was not a cheerful laugh. "I know, it was too awesome to describe. See you Thursday fuck boy."

Staring at the floor, I grabbed my books and left quickly without a word. My underwear stuck to my body, especially along my crack, and my hole felt like it was gaping wide open and leaking. With what? With his slime or with my blood? Or my shit? There seemed to be a lot of it and I imagined the worst. Unable to ride, I pushed my bike and with each step I could feel the semen that had spattered across my stomach and that had oozed out into my hairs when I'd gotten dressed, my semen. It was wet and cold. I glanced down at my shirt and at the wet spots. I had to get home. I had to have a shower. I pedalled my bike, standing up, my asshole leaking.

I made it into my house and to my room without anyone seeing me. Tossing my books on my desk, I went into the bathroom and stripped and had a long hot shower. I soaped myself up repeatedly, especially my stomach and hairs and my chest and ass crack, but I still felt filthy. The first time I soaped up my ass crack my fingers came away red and the water pooling about my feet was pink. I soaped and rinsed my hole repeatedly with steaming hot water until I ran out of hot water. The water still had a hint of pink. I dried myself off, using toilet paper to dry my anus so as not to get any blood on the towel. It came away bloody. I tossed my underwear, shirt and pants into the laundry hamper and prayed the stains would dry and my mother wouldn't notice them.

Mom had called me several times for lunch. Folding several squares of toilet paper, I gingerly placed them over my anus and carefully put on a clean pair of underwear and joined my family. I ate my sandwiches without tasting them and didn't hear a word of their conversation. I have no idea what I ate. My anus burned with pain and I shifted my weight uncomfortably, sure I could feel my blood running down my leg and imagining it forming a pool about my feet. I imagined myself sitting there at the dining room table and bleeding to death from my anus. My parents could tell I was distracted and uncomfortable and kept asking if I was feeling all right and if anything was wrong. How does a guy tell his mom and dad and his younger brother and sister he'd been raped that morning, that he'd been used as a girl, and . . . and that he had enjoyed it so much he had ejaculated? That I had been used was bad enough, but having come? Being raped? What sort of guy was I?

I could think of nothing else for the rest of the day. I checked myself several times that afternoon and evening and the bleeding was not as bad as it seemed and eventually stopped. I checked the laundry hamper and tried to blot out the stains, but I just made them worse. I prayed Mom would just dump them in the washing machine and not notice. I tossed and turned all night, feeling the pain in my asshole, reliving the whole experience of being raped, of having another guy's cock up my ass, his semen spurting up my rectum, me spurting my stuff all over myself. I wanted to die. In the morning I checked myself out again, as best as a guy can check out his asshole, holding Dad's shaving mirror behind my butt. My asshole hurt like hell when I crapped, and there was a swirl of blood in the toilet and a smear of blood when I wiped myself. I could not see any semen. Where did it go? Did a guy's semen get absorbed into another guy's body? Were his sperm swimming around now in my blood? My arms and legs turned to gooseflesh and I could not get the thought out of my head. My anus burned like it had been skinned raw, and from what I could see in the mirror, it had. I went through the day in a daze and couldn't recall a single thing that happened at school, and I could not concentrate on my homework that evening. I did not sleep much the next night, unable to put what had happened out of my mind, thinking of everything we said and did, how it had felt having his hot hand cupping my asscheeks, his fingers cupping my balls, the pain of being penetrated, the surprise and embarrassment of cumming all over myself, feeling him filling my rectum with his stuff, how weird it felt shooting my stuff. That was the worst part of it all. Why had I done that? I did not sleep much the next night, nor each night thereafter.

When I'd gone home that Sunday I'd sworn I would never return to Dimitri's house again, but that Thursday found me pushing my bike up their walkway. I had been definite I would not return again, right up to that day, right up to when I left school that afternoon, but all along I knew deep inside that I would. Why I would, I do not know. I just knew I would. It made no sense.

His mother met me at the door, as she had the previous Thursday, and told me Dimitri was in his room. I wondered what she would think of me if she knew what I had done, what she would think if she knew her son and I had sex with each other last Sunday while she and her husband and their younger son were at church. At least it would not happen this time, not with her in the house. Maybe that was why I had returned, knowing that, knowing it would be safe. It was at least a bit of relief, the first relief I'd felt since last Sunday. When he didn't bother closing the door to his room, I began breathing a bit easier. No way would we do anything with his door open. My relief was short lived. Sixty seconds. Less.

"I knew you'd be back," he said with a slight smile as I stepped over to him where he sat at his desk. "Let's forget the math lesson and get it on. I haven't been able to think of anything else but last Sunday. It's been a long time since I had a fuck that hot. I bet you haven't been able to think of anything else either." He had that right, though not for the same reason. "I wanna do it standing this time, in front of the dresser so I can see us in the mirror." I looked at him unbelievingly. Good God, his mother was downstairs! True, she never came to his room after that very first time with the milk and cookies, and she stopped hovering around out in the hallway after the second time, but the door was wide open, and there was nothing stopping her from coming in, or hearing us. She'd have to hear us! "Com'on fuck boy, drop your pants and underwear," he said, unzipping his fly and pushing his jeans and underwear down and stepping out of them.

I could have left then and there. He was stripped from the waist down and I was closer to the door. All I had to do was get into the hallway. There was no way he was going to come after me without his pants and underwear on. And if he tried to stop me, all I had to do was call out and his mother would come. But I didn't. I put down my books and undoing my belt and pulling down my fly, I pushed my jeans and underwear down. When he told me to take them right off so I could spread my legs and make it easier for him to penetrate me, I did. I stood there in just my shirt and socks facing his dresser and I spread my legs like some wanton slut as he stepped up behind me. He kissed me on the cheeks and nibbled my ear as he put his arms about my waist. As he licked my ear, my cock began to swell. Good God, what was happening?

"Ah-ha, you like that, do you?" he asked with a leer. He turned me around and kissed me, on the lips, and slipping his fingers about my limp cock he slipped his tongue into my mouth. My cock began to swell faster. He reached down with his other hand and guided my fingers over to his cock and as he swirled his tongue about mine his cock began to swell in my hand also. We kissed, this time with more passion, and as he began to caress my buttocks and slipped his tongue in my mouth again I found myself becoming more and more aroused.

"Lube me," he said, handing me the tube of gel, and I took it and squeezed out a generous dollop and smeared the grease over his bulb and his shaft, remembering the pain the first time and being sure I coated his dickhead thoroughly. "And yourself, fuck boy." I ran my greased fingers along my ass crack and rubbed them against my hole. "Go ahead, stick your fingers up your ass. If you get it good and greasy it won't hurt so much." I did, slowly inserting first my index finger, and then my middle finger, and then both up my rectum. Anything to make it less painful. "That's it, finger fuck yourself you little slut." My cock rose up in the air. "You are a horny fuck boy, aren't you," he said with a leer. "Finger fucking yourself turning you on, or is it the thought of my big cock up your ass?" My cheeks burned with embarrassment. "Or is it remembering our last fuck and looking forward to the next one?" I glanced at my face in the mirror. My cheeks were a bright red with embarrassment and shame, but my cock was standing straight up. What sort of sicko was I?

Stepping up behind me, he told me to keep looking in the mirror and he looked over my shoulder as he reached down and placed the tip of his cock against my anus. Grasping my hips, he slowly began to push forward and this time, instead of resisting, which I knew was futile and would only hurt, I opened up my anus. "You are a horny little slut, opening your asshole up for me you're so eager to have my cock in you," he teased, causing me to turn all the redder. "One fuck and you're opening up like a little cock-loving whore." I was opening up, and telling him why would just sound like an excuse. So we stood there, both of us watching my face in the mirror as his cockhead slowly stretched open my sphincter until it popped inside. I could not help feeling relieved the pain was so much less. "You like that, don't you? Feels good once the knob is inside you, don't it fuck boy?" he whispered in my ear, having noticed the change in my expression. "I asked you a question," he said calmly as he pinched my right nipple.

"Yes!" I yelped in pain.

A smile of satisfaction curled the right corner of his mouth. He ever so slowly continued to push forward until once again his coarse hairs were pressed against my buttocks and his huge, thick cock was solidly up my rectum. We had united much more smoothly this time but his cock was thick and I was tight and it was still painful.

And so we stood there stripped from the waist down and he took me a second time. He grasped my hips and slowly began pumping his to and fro, sliding his slick cock in and out of my rectum, causing it to burn with irritation and arousal, the same irritation and arousal as I felt around the rim of the bulb of my erect cock. Each time he thrust forward the bulb of his cock brushed against a tender spot up my rectum that caused a thrill of arousal to shoot up the core of my cock and caused my erection to jerk, which of course he noticed and observed how much I was enjoying getting my ass fucked I was wagging my tail and causing me to blush all the more. He nibbled the back of my neck and my cheeks, and he reached up and caressed my chest and tweaked my nipples, causing them to burn with the same sensation as I was feeling circling my anus and my bulb and causing them to become firm. He told me to stroke myself and he asked how often I jerked off and I looked away with embarrassment when I told I didn't do it and he said I was too sweet and innocent to be true and that I was the first fourteen-year-old he had ever met that didn't play with himself, but he knew I was too honest to lie to him.

He told me to stop stroking my dick because he wanted me to come just from being fucked, just like I did the first time we did it, and he asked if I remembered how that had been and I nodded and he asked if I had liked it and I found myself nodding again before I realized it. Well, I knew that was what he wanted me to say, and physically, it had felt good once you got over the pain, so admitting it was no biggie. We were both breathing more heavily now and I watched myself being fucked in the mirror. That was strange. I felt somehow detached, like I was watching a movie and two actors, not myself. I wasn't gay! I wasn't!

He was a good head and a half taller than I was, and his arms and legs and chest were matted with black hair whereas I just had the beginning tufts of pit hair. You could really tell the difference in our ages. I concentrated on the burning sensation of my anus and when he told me to play with my nipples I did so, eager for the painful pleasure of stimulating my teats like one is eager for the relief in scratching a mosquito bite. I concentrated on his cock pumping in and out of my rectum and I recalled how it felt being filled with his stuff, and when I thought of that I felt the pressure building up in my loins, but this time I knew it was not because I had to piss. I recalled how it had felt, that first time, and the pressure increased. Being fucked filled me with shame and revulsion, but I wanted to come, I wanted to feel the pleasure of spurting again as embarrassing and as humiliating as it was being fucked. That was sick when I put it that way.

And then I felt my stuff gushing up the core of my numb, swollen cock, and I watched in the mirror of the dresser as I came. I sprayed the mirror and the top of his dresser with gobs of my stuff. Squirt after squirt after squirt came shooting out of my erect cock and my peehole burned and I felt dizzy. It was hot watching my stuff spurting out of my cock. "Lick it up," he ordered, bending me over and twisting my arm behind my back, pressing my face against the mirror. I stuck out my tongue and licked up the blob of slime oozing down the mirror, having no choice. It was bitter and tart and revoltingly slimy and for some reason reminded me of snot which made me gag. Blushing with shame, I moved on to other blobs, sucking my own slime into my mouth, off the mirror and off the dresser top. While I was doing so he came, filling my rectum with his own slime, spurt after spurt shooting up my rectum as I stood there bent over, my cheeks and lips smeared with my semen, globs of my goo stuck to the roof of my mouth and my tongue. It was disgusting and being fucked while I did it even more disgusting. It took him forever and I quivered with the thought of his sperm swimming up my rectum. I sucked up another blob of my gunk as he filled my rectum with his hot goo, my own cock stiff and dripping with my cum. Sex, I thought, is hot and sticky.

At last he pulled his cock out, again with a pop and puff of foul air. Turning me around and pushing me to my knees, he roughly pulled my head back by the hair with one hand and stroked his swollen cock with the other. Ordering me to open my mouth he milked his cock, squeezing out his slime into my gaping mouth to join my own slime. "Suck me dry," he ordered huskily, looking down at me with leering, slanted eyes. He could not be serious. Still holding onto my hair, he gave my head a painful yank. I looked at his filthy cock smeared with his semen and my ass slime and my shit. No way! He slapped my face, hard, jerking my head to the side and pulling my hair out by the roots. He slapped my face in the other direction. Opening my mouth and closing my eyes and fighting back the urge to gag and the urge to cry, I slipped my lips over his dick and sucked, draining his filthy cock and his balls of his slime like a baby eagerly sucking his mother's tit, his cock tasting of cock and semen and shit. I had no choice. My mouth filled with spittle and I swallowed, the fear of what he would do if I puked overcoming my impulse to gag. I sucked for a long time, until I could draw out no more.

"I figured you to be a fag boy the moment I saw you," he said when at last we were done. "You have a suit and tie?"

"Ah, no," I replied, surprised at the question. It was hard to talk with the inside of my mouth coated with slime.

"White shirt, dress pants?"

"Yeah."

"Wear them on Sunday, and be here at nine, sharp." I reached for the box of Kleenex to wipe off my lips and cheeks. "Leave it. It's good moisturizer for your skin. Prevents zits besides." Opening his drawer, he gave me a tube of ointment, telling me it would speed up the healing of my asshole.

I doubted that but I didn't argue. I dressed and left, thankful his mother wasn't in the hallway. Only an hour had gone by, but he had still paid me forty dollars. I felt like a whore. I also felt sick. Getting off my bike several houses up the street, I bent over the fence and puked in their flowerbed. My puke was slimy and thin, like eggwhite, and sour and hung off my lower lip. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand and heaved even though there was noting left in my stomach. I brushed my teeth and rinsed my mouth out with half a bottle of mouthwash and I had another long, hot shower. I still felt filthy and my mouth was filled with a taste of peppermint-flavoured cock, semen and shit.

The following Sunday my mother and father were surprised to find me up early, and all dressed up in a white shirt and all. I figured they would be and I told them I was working on a joint project for school. They immediately figured my partner was a girl, which was what I had expected, and they glanced at each other as if sharing some big, happy secret. Sometimes parents can be so transparent. They thankfully didn't ask who I was meeting. If they knew what I'd been doing on my Sundays and who I was meeting they would not be smiling.

Mrs. Savalos answered the door and was surprised to see me also for as far as she knew I only came on Thursdays. She was even more surprised when Dimitri said he and I were joining her in church that morning, and I could see in her eyes that she could not believe what she had heard, and was immensely overjoyed almost to the point of tears. I could not believe what I had heard either. For the first time since I had begun my supposed tutoring I met his father and his sixteen-year-old brother Nikos, his family having still been in church on the Sundays I had been over, and his father not yet being home from work on Thursdays and his brother, I discovered, having basketball practice after school on those days. His father and brother were as surprised as his mother and I saw what looked like a glimmer of hope in his father's eyes. Dimitri looked very smart, clean shaven and his hair trimmed, and wearing a suit and tie. He was a handsome man, the type you saw in magazine ads for expensive clothes. He had an expensive jacket for me that fit surprisingly well. Considering I was a lot thinner than he was, or even his younger brother, I wondered whose it was.

On the way to the church Dimitri told me he had initially begun taking adult learning classes to pick up his Grade 9 where he had left off when he had returned home but it had not worked and after three weeks he had quit. He told his father that he had approached Saint Joseph's and the school had recommended me to help him with his math and I had been doing so the last two Sundays. He also said that it had been my idea that we attend church together to help him come to terms with what he called his "other issues" and that we could study afterward. I caught the look on his father's face in the rearview mirror as he glanced at Dimitri and then at me and there was no question his father was pleased. Dimitri looked at me with a look I can only describe as admiration as he reached over and stroked my thigh despite his brother sitting there beside me. If his brother noticed, and I don't see how he could not, he didn't show it and stared straight ahead or out the window the whole trip and said nothing, as if he was trying to ignore my very presence. I could not ignore Dimitri's hand and by the time we arrived at the church I had a prominent boner that I was sure everyone could see.

My family is Catholic but not particularly religious so my familiarity with church services has pretty much been limited to marriages and funerals and a couple baptisms. Dimitri's family on the other hand are big church goers and we were met at the church by his older brothers and sisters and their families. The church was packed and Dimitri used every chance he had to brush his knee against mine, or when we stood to sing to slip his fingers between my fingers and you could see in his eyes his thoughts were not on the sermon. Nor were mine and I had an erection throughout the entire service. In church of all places! After services we said goodbye to his brothers and sisters and although they had acted casual about my presence I could tell they were surprised and concerned. They had been staring at me ever since we arrived and I knew they had to be wondering what I was really doing there and were certainly not buying Dimitri's story. As he was leaving, I overheard Dimitri's older brother, Alexandros, whisper to his father that his father knew I wasn't to associate with anyone under eighteen, but his father said not to worry and that it was all right. I suspected every one of them was suspecting the same thing which made me blush with embarrassment even though nobody else said anything.

After lunch, which Mrs. Savalos fussed over and during which she kept encouraging me to eat more, Dimitri and I went to his room to work on his mathematics. I could tell his father objected but he didn't say anything. Needless to say, I was worried as heck, so worried my stomach hurt. Surely Dimitri was going to start with the sex stuff, and if his father came walking in, like his mother had the first time we'd met and caught us at it, well, all hell would break loose. Just as I suspected, his father stepped up to the door fifteen minutes later and asked if everything was all right and if we needed anything, and from the catch in his voice I knew he was as worried and as nervous as I was. Dimitri coldly and sharply said everything was fine, and that he needed to concentrate, implying not to interrupt us again. I would never dare talk to my father in that tone, not even if I was as old as Dimitri. His father didn't interrupt us again, but like with Dimitri's mother the first time, I had the impression that he was hovering in the hallway and listening for the slightest hint we were doing something other than studying.

To my dismay, we were. While we sat there side by side at his desk Dimitri reached over and stroked my thigh, and once I got an erection again, he began to stroke it through my trousers and my underwear. Scared that he was going to do more, I took a while to get aroused, but eventually the physical stimulation overrode my fears. I finally whispered to him that he had better stop or something was going to happen, and he whispered back that he hoped something would happen and he bent over and kissed me on the lips. I whispered back that I was serious and I wasn't going to be able to hold back, and he said "then don't." He kissed me again, this time inserting his tongue in my mouth and sliding it over my tongue.

I had no choice. To my horror I felt the twang deep in my loins and my stuff burn up the core of my cock for the third time in eight days. It flooded down my left thigh, hot and wet, spurt after spurt like it would never end. I glanced down and could see a dark spot spreading out where it was soaking into my trousers. Dimitri grinned and then took my hand and placed it on the long, hard tube bulging down along his right thigh. And so we sat there doing permutations and combinations as I stroked him off and he creamed his trousers. I could feel his big, fat cock throbbing through the cloth, and I was sure I could smell the unique fragrance of fresh cum that I had come to recognize. To my relief nobody was in the hallway when I left, and nobody saw me before I made it to the bathroom at home. By then I was sure my stuff had leaked all the way down my leg and I expected to find a big puddle of cum, but most of it had soaked into one large wet patch along the inner thigh of my jeans.

I debated about hiding the jacket Dimitri had insisted I take home with me, but there was really no place that my mother wouldn't discover it, so I hung it out in the open and when she asked I said it was a gift, and that I had gone to church. That created quite a fuss, which I should have expected, and my mother and father wanted to know all about this girl and her family and just what sort of project we were working on, which caused me to get all red and flustered with embarrassment, which was not an act, and it ended with my dad joking that if she got me to go to church with her that couldn't be a bad thing, but he expected me to finish high school before getting married. They ended up having quite a chuckle over the whole thing and I felt relieved, but I felt bad about having lied to them, something I've never done before meeting Dimitri.

Thursday we got right into it as soon as I entered his room. Unbuttoning the top of his jeans and pulling down his fly, Dimitri ordered me to drop to my knees and suck him off while he worked on his math problems. Although his mother had never entered his room or even hung nearby after that first time, now that the family knew I was there tutoring him I wasn't so sure she'd stay out, but I also knew I had no choice but to do as he had ordered, and that if I angered him he could order me to do something even riskier. So I dropped to my knees and took his cock in my mouth and began to suck. At least this time he hadn't had it up my ass first. I could not believe I just had that thought. At least this time. . . . What sort of sicko pervert was I becoming?

As I sucked, I thought back to the first time we had sex, the Sunday morning he had raped me three weeks ago, and I thought back to the first time I had his cock in my mouth, the next Thursday after he had fucked my ass. Three weeks. Three weeks ago I had been like any other guy, thinking about girls and wondering what it would be like to do stuff with them. Despite the locker room talk, I knew most of my classmates at Saint Joseph's hadn't made out yet. Yet. Some quite likely had, and others were likely close. Three weeks. Now there I was, kneeling on the floor and sucking a guy's cock. Three weeks ago my biggest problem was being bullied to share my homework and teased for being a nerd and being smart. Now I was being forced to have sex with a guy and worrying about being found out.

After a bit Dimitri pushed his work away and leaned back, his eyes closed. He was breathing hard and beginning to squirm. He suddenly inhaled sharply and arched his back and I knew what was about to happen. His hot, thick slime shot down my throat and my arms and legs turned to gooseflesh. When he was done, he told me to sit beside him and explain the next section in the textbook as if what we had just done had been perfectly normal. As I sat there watching him solving the problem, his goo stuck to the roof of my mouth and my tongue, I wondered how anyone could possibly like doing what I had just done, how anyone could possibly do it willingly. I could not think of anything filthier or more perverted than having a guy's cock in your mouth. Well, besides having a guy shoot his stuff in your mouth. I wanted to gag but I knew I dared not and as I fought the impulse I lost focus on what we were doing.

"Can't concentrate, huh fuck boy?" Dimitri asked with a knowing grin. "Thinking how great it is having my big cock spurting in your mouth and hot to do it again."

Half an hour later he told me I had suffered long enough and ordered me to give him another blow job. I looked at him pleadingly but I knew there was nothing I could say or do to change his mind. I dropped to my knees and reached out and raised his limp cock. He hadn't bothered pulling up his pants or briefs. Holding it at the base, I slipped my lips over the bulb. He told me to go all the way down on it, down to his hairs. He was limp but still close to ten centimetres long but I managed to do it. As I sucked on his limp sausage it quickly began to swell and I had to slip my lips up the shaft. He laughed and told me when I went home to practice sucking a banana because he expected me to eventually take it all in, to deep throat him he called it.

And so while he completed his math exercise I knelt there and sucked him off a second time. It took him longer to come and my jaws, and my knees, were getting sore. I ran my tongue over the rim of his knob, hoping to stimulate him and bring this to an end, and he laughed and said it hadn't taken me long to like the taste of cock and that I was becoming a real cock-sucking fag boy. I didn't care. It did the trick and it wasn't long before he was squirming. Just before he came, he pulled his cock back and told me to catch his slime in my mouth and to be sure I didn't swallow any of it. His second load was just as copious but a bit thicker. He had me hold it in my mouth while he finished his last math exercise, and then swallow it while he watched. He smirked and reminded me to practice with a banana for next Sunday.

As soon as I was out of his house I began spitting and as soon as I reached the house with the picket fence I leaned over it and puked all over their flowers and wiped the slime off my lips and chin with the back of my hand. I continued spitting as I continued on my way but his thick goo stuck to my gums and my teeth and I could taste his cock and his cum all the way home. Even though I brushed several times and used the other half bottle of mouthwash, I could not cleanse the taste from my mind nor erase the memory of what I had done. I could not sleep and laid awake most of the night. I couldn't keep doing this, I just couldn't, but how was I going to stop it? He certainly wouldn't stop just by my asking. If I stopped going to his house he'd track me down. That wouldn't be difficult. Suppose he came to my house and forced me to do him in my bedroom. My mother and father wouldn't stay out of my room like his parents did. As it was they were going to continue wondering about this special school project I was working on, and wanting to meet my partner. How was I going to explain my absences every Thursday and Sunday this summer? That was only six weeks away! I was exhausted when Mom called me to get up and I dragged myself through the day miserable as hell and unable to concentrate on my school work, which everyone noticed. I could have died of embarrassment, and wished I would. After school I stopped by at the corner grocery and bought some bananas.