Daemon Way

Teacher

Chapter Twenty-One

Mrs. Pakorny looked up at her class and smiled. All the teachers complained that the grade 8B class was the most unruly and the most difficult to manage. She had to admit they were a handful but she rarely had difficulty with them. It came from taking the time and effort to make her history lessons interesting and relevant, and from knowing and understanding junior high students. Take Cory Wilson for example. At the moment his brow was furrowed as he concentrated on his assigned reading. He always furrowed his brow when he was thinking extra hard. He was a good student, bright and normally well behaved, but he was impulsive and headstrong, one who readily questioned what he read or was told, and one who challenged the rules. Some teachers did not like students who questioned or challenged them. She was not one of them. Developing inquiring minds was what teaching was all about, and even she found some of the rules at Lincoln Junior High School archaic and unreasonable. Actually, Cory reminded her of herself when she was at that age, inquisitive, self-confident, outgoing and full of energy, full of piss and vinegar her father used to tease her.

Cory was concentrating, but not on his reading. After the wild party with the guys he'd returned to the Gilles for supper. Even though he'd just stuffed himself with pizza to the point of bursting, he was hungry again, which was not unusual considering he was a growing boy, and he'd spent a particularly active Sunday afternoon. After supper he'd gone to François's old room, supposedly to work on his school work, but actually going to look through his great-grandfather's journal he'd brought back to the Gilles's. What had happened with Kenneth Ballard had never happened before, not so fast and so total, and he had to find out just what it was that he'd done to cause it, not just because he was curious and loved solving mysteries, but more important, if he could figure out what he'd done it would make his revenge on Julius a lot easier.

His great-grandfather on his mother's side, Isaiah McFarlane, had gotten the journal from his father when he was eighteen and about to start medical school in Dublin in 1902. That was sort of interesting being over a hundred years ago. The journal however was handwritten in small script and had to be at least a thousand pages, his great-grandfather, as mentioned, being particularly verbose. Isaiah was ninety-five when he died, and Cory figured he'd have to live at least that long just to read his journal. Fortunately he'd found two things so far that had helped him find information on the headband. The first was the paper on mesmerization and Druids. That itself was long and boring and he could see why the Royal Dublin Society had rejected it. His great-grandfather had fortunately scribbled in references to his diary in the margin which were a great help in his search.

The first reference was an entry written the end of October, two months after he'd started college, in which he'd described a pompous student who was always making fun of him because he came from a small village and didn't know the sophisticated city ways of doing things. They had a costume dance for Halloween so he had dressed like a Druid and had put on his headband, which unlike Cory he didn't wear every day, and when the guy started in on him at the dance he used it to make the guy act, in Isaiah's words,

"like the bumpkin he claimed I was."

He had him stumble over his feet and step on the toes of the girl he was dancing with, dribble his drinks down his chin, greedily heap his plate with food and drop it, and finally go to the men's room and return without buttoning his trousers back up.

It was the first mention in the diary of the headband and his great-grandfather went on to tell how he had found the headband on his thirteenth birthday while out cutting blocks of peat to bring home and dry for fuel, one of his chores even on his birthday. If nothing else, it made Cory appreciate the simple chores he had. His great-grandfather's first discovery of the power of the headband was that very evening. He'd put it on and his father began getting on his case as he evidently often did about being lazy and always finding time to play with toys like the headband but never to do his chores, and Isaiah, being pissed off already having to do chores on his birthday and Saint Patrick's Day besides, told his father to go suck himself, thinking it of course, not really saying it. Well, to his surprise his father stopped his rant in mid sentence and stared at him and for a moment he thought maybe he'd actually spoken. Apparent that he hadn't, he used the pause to tell his father again, taking great joy in talking back at least in his mind, and to his surprise, his father got this funny look on his face and got up and went outside. Curious, Isaiah had followed him and discovered him laying on his back in the peat shed with his legs over his head and his cock in his mouth. Evidently his father was exceptionally well hung besides flexible, and had often sucked himself off to satisfy his needs as a young man. The incident reminded Cory of his first discovery of the headband and telling his mother to go frig her ass. Actually, it was just two weeks after his thirteenth birthday, and now he thought about it, they had started to clean out his grandfather's stuff on his birthday but hadn't gotten to the pile with the headband.

Well, Isaiah was soon using the headband to get back at the bullies at school who teased him and adults whom he didn't like and the richer people in the village who looked down on him and his family because they were poor potato farmers. He seemed to use the same punishment for them all, making them embarrassed and humiliating them by making them fart or burp loudly in public, scratch themselves in private places, pick their noses, and in some cases eat their boogers, go about with their flies unbuttoned and the like. Most of the other references to journal entries referred to similar incidents where someone had crossed his great-grandfather or been a snob and he'd used the headband to get back at them. Cory smiled as he realized that Isaiah getting his revenge was no different from what he was doing. Some things hadn't changed in a hundred years!

Isaiah reported sometimes making it happen was easy, sometimes it was not and sometimes the headband didn't work at all. From his experiences and experimentation, Isaiah had concluded that the headband operated using some sort of magnetic field that he called animal magnetism, and which in a later entry he changed to animal electricity because he figured some things conducted the band's power better than others, including water, milk and trees which he said gave their power to the headband, pointing out that the Druids held trees and water to be sacred. He also figured the position of the planets and the stars influenced the headband's power, along with spirits and Druid chants.

That was the second thing Cory had found that helped him understand more about the headband, a much shorter paper called Evidence of Neuro-linguistic Programming in Druid Chants and Rituals that he'd found in the bunch of letters from a Doctor Milton Erickson. His great-grandfather seemed to have a real thing for Druids, who sounded interesting but he hadn't gotten around to reading the geographic article on them yet. Like Isaiah's other paper, this one was just as boring but there was also a page of scribbled notes sort of summarizing this neuro-lingy thingy again with references to entries in his journal that explained how to use the headband and gave examples from his diary, things like linking new thoughts with old memories, taking small steps by thinking of just one thought with lots of repetition, thinking slowly and calmly, and thinking so the other person thought it was his own thoughts and feelings, all things which he'd used with Goosey and his family, and none of which explained why sometimes you didn't have to do all that and other times even doing that the headband didn't work.

This Doctor Erickson evidently used the technique so his patients could cure themselves using their own power by doing things like controlling their own heart rate and breathing, and so they could overcome things like fears and stuff, sort of like hypnosis but just talking out loud instead of putting the person to sleep. One of the references Isaiah had made to his journal was an entry where he described using his head band when he served as a medic in the first world war to help soldiers who were suffering from battle fatigue and to help them ignore their pain by focussing on other things.

What was a lot more interesting were the references to journal entries about how he used his thoughts for sex. Isaiah, Cory learned, was turned on by adults when he was a boy, a condition he said in a later journal entry was called teleiophilia and studied by someone called Kurt Freund. First there was making his father suck himself, which he made the man do whenever he got on his case, which his great-grandfather said was quite often, and he even invited close friends over to spy on him when he was particularly pissed off, not unlike what he was doing with Anthony and Terry with Goosey and his sons. Cory smiled again at the similarity!

His first incident involving sex and himself was the summer of 1897, four months after he'd found the band. He was working that summer as a carpenter's helper to earn some money for his family and was wearing the band to keep his long, curly hair back, and at the end of the day he was fantasizing about sucking the man's dick when he noticed the man was getting aroused and was looking at him funny, and the more he concentrated on what he'd like them to do the hornier the man got.

"Finally hot and sweaty from our honest day's work and with the fragrance of oak chips in the air, we threw off our clothes and I dropped to my knees and worshipped his beautiful, stiff pecker, the manly aroma of his sweaty balls mixing with that of the freshly cut cedar resulting in a heady fragrance I will never forget and whose memory brings me to an instant erection even to this day,"

his great-grandfather had recalled and written in his diary five years later after having passed by a woodworker's shop. He went on for several more pages on how the two of them became lovers, and how he

"satisfied the man's needs in every way a boy possibly can."

That was the first of several men in his village and the surrounding farms that he found

"delighted in tender boy flesh as much as I delighted in their muscular, hard bodies and raging manhoods."

"satisfy those natural, God-given urges that a mean and misguided society would deny."

Isaiah McFarlane was verbose but had a flowery way of describing things that Cory found he liked. His great-grandfather also had a lot of experiences, which promised to keep Cory entertained for years even if he read a half dozen journal entries a day, which he could never do as after just one or two of his great-grandfather's descriptions of his sexual experiences he got so horny he had to stop and get his nuts off. That was exactly what had happened that Sunday night, and although he'd gotten off twice that afternoon, he was good for two hot fucks with Antoinette Gilles that night. He was, after all, thirteen and had a sexual appetite to match his digestive one. So he fucked her pussy, and then her ass, concluding afterward that as great as it had been, fucking Dominic's ass had been more enjoyable.

Snuggling up to her still hot and panting body and finding a tit and slipping the nipple in his mouth, he thought of one of the last entries he'd read in his great-grandfather's journal that night, one he'd written at the age of ninety while recovering from a bad bout of flu but well enough to have encouraged a hot fucking session in the empty bed on the other side of the curtain between a young eight-year-old patient who clearly was interested in his fifty-year-old doctor. His great-grandfather had written that he didn't know what to do with the headband should he be "knocking on death's door" as he didn't know if it was a curse or a blessing, and in that he hadn't come any further in his understanding than he had October 6, 1954 twenty years earlier. Cory of course flipped back and found the entry dated that day.

"It is funny how a young boy thinks he is being so secretive and unobtrusive when anyone who has any wits about him can see the obvious. While sitting in the park enjoying the few nice days of sunshine before the first snowfalls, I spotted a young lad of about fourteen lying on his stomach on the grass and slowly rocking to and fro, a habit of horny young boys that probably dates back even before the first Druid and is found in every country and race in this great world. That in itself is not unusual, boys of that age having rampant hormones, and in fact, nor was the cause of his arousal, though there are many today who would deny such a thing as normal and would have one castrated just for thinking it. I speak of course of the father of about forty who was trying to get his six-year-old child's kite up in the air despite the wind being most uncooperative. It being unseasonably warm, he'd removed his shirt, revealing a very hairy and broad chest which was at the moment perspiring profusely.

So, of course, I drew his attention to the teenage boy by means of the headband which perched on my head concealed under the New York Yankees ball cap I'd picked up at a yard sale. Watching his reaction, I discerned immediately that he was one of those men who understood the sexuality of teenage boys, but who like most men, have been conditioned by society to think all boys should address those needs with those of the opposite sex, and at the proper age as decided by his adults. By now as anyone reading this journal is well aware, I've become quite proficient in using the headband, and by gentle suggestions and projecting emotions, I gave the two the courage and incentive to approach each other, first in the pretense of helping get the kite up in the air, and then to progress to dealing with something else that had come up. I followed the three over to the denser bushes where the father, in front of his toddler who in the process pushed down his trousers and underwear and gave himself a good sound jerking while he watched, gave the teenage boy a thorough ass fucking that resulted in the boy coming just from being fucked. How I wished at that moment I could satisfy my longing, but when you are seventy, it is next to impossible to find someone twenty-five years your senior, and so I was left to be satisfied crouched there in the bushes with my memories and my hand.

Perhaps it was that lack of consummating my desire with another human being that resulted in my rash actions later that afternoon. Having gone to one of the neighbouring orchards for apples, I noticed again the same phenomena, in this case a young boy of perhaps nine or ten, looking longingly at the farmer up the ladder handing him down apples, I suspected likely another father and son. So again I used my headband, encouraging both to do what came natural if others would allow, but in this case, the more amorous the boy became and the more attractive in the eyes of any boylover, the more adverse the father became to doing anything about it. Rather than assisting the boy in satisfying his need or at the least ignoring it, he chastised the boy for touching himself as I'd suggested he do through my mental prompting, demeaning what was perfectly natural and humiliating the boy besides. In my anger and without thinking I suggested mentally that if he could not see the obvious, the man climb to the top of the tree and jump off. To my horror, he began to do just that! I sent every message I could, as strongly as I could, to stop, but to no avail. Higher and higher he climbed. I ran over to him, shouting to him that I required his help, and to come down that instant. Down he did come, leaping from the tree. Fortunately it was not a tall tree, and instead of breaking his neck, as I'd initially wished, he broke an arm and dislocated the shoulder. Perhaps it was a fit punishment for his actions, but I was horrified that I had passed that judgement and punishment on him.

That was not the first time my temper and emotions sent such a charge of feral animal electricity to my subject so powerful that they obeyed without question. As I drove back home in horror and in mortification over my actions, I became convinced that the headband was cursed, and upon arriving home picked out those entries in which I used the band to do evil. Fortunately for my soul, there are few. The first was actually the first day I'd used the headband, the day I'd told my father to go suck himself. In the past I thought it just considering his constant badgering and criticism of everything I did, but in retrospect, for a child to wish such a thing on a father is an act of evil.

The second was April 6, 1898, three days before the end of Lent. Having turned fourteen only three weeks before, I was feeling particularly randy. After choir practice, I stayed behind to help put decorate the church for the upcoming Easter, and in my lust projected my needs to Father Patrick. I've written of the incident several times in this journal and I'll never forget his reaction. He looked at me like a man stunned, a man struck dumb by God, and as I projected my need and love and lust as I'd learned to do by trial and error with boys and lesser men, he grabbed me roughly and raising his priestly robes and my choir gown, he bent me over had me there at the foot of the altar. At the time I thought it a gift from God so hot and lustful was our sex, and how enjoyable he evidently found it, for it was five days later, Easter Sunday, that I stayed behind and we had a longer and more gentle session in the rectory. I realize only today, that being the agent that broke the man's vows of chastity I was not acting as an angel from God, but rather as a demon doing the work of Satan.

Then there is my entry of December 17, 1917 of the young soldier, no more than nineteen years of age, his cheeks still down-covered and unshaven, trembling with the fear of the war, crying like a baby. I'd written at great length on that day how, overcome with compassion and grief for this young man, I projected thoughts of peace and well-being, and how the young man suddenly went blank, with what I thought was the realization of beauty and peace of my thoughts which eliminated his pain. I'd used the band many times before that during what we'd thought was the war to end all wars as I've recorded in this journal to make the soldiers I treated forget their pain as I sewed their wounds often without anaesthetics, but this was the first time I'd used it to ease one's mental discomfort, and he was the first to become so totally absorbed in my thoughts as to enter a trance. I thought at the time it was due to the severe emotions and pain we were both feeling and our empathy with each other, and again thanked God, but now I realize again, it was evil. In helping the boy to overcome his fatigue and fear, I'd sent this young nineteen-year-old boy back into the battle, and perhaps, though I'll never know as I never even knew his name, to his death.

August 18,1920, a black day I now realize in more ways than I accounted when I entered my journal entry that night. That was the day Congress ratified the 19th Amendment giving women the right to vote, a decision I cursed on that day and still curse today, a day I regretted having moved to America after the war, but which was moot in that today with the exception of Switzerland and the Muslim countries, one of the few redeeming traits of the heathen Arab race and north African niggers, all other nations have followed suit. In my anger, while passing a particularly vile and vulgar woman in the street celebrating her 'victory', I broadcast my anger to her, causing her to become mute as women should be, and to do my bidding, turning her dance of joy into a vulgar dance of stripping until naked, and then finger fucking her ass there in the street while offering her other opening to anyone who wanted it, men, boys, and toddlers alike. I rejoiced then in my treatment of the woman deserving of my wrath, but now I see it as the purest evidence yet of Satan's work.

And then there was the argument in the fall of 1938 with Doctor Angus Hurd over my medical opinions regarding the presence of magnetic effluence, resulting in words exchanged in anger by both parties, and me telling him to take a flying leap out the window, which he proceeded to do. Thinking no man would endanger his life so, even a temperamental and stubborn Scot, I discounted it as being the influence of the headband and instead concluded that the man had just happened to lean against the window at that point, and the frame being rotted, gave way under his weight, which was considerable. Now I as I reread my journal entry and recall the event, and the look on his face, I see a developing trend in these events I'm writing of anew this day.

Last, eight years later, in 1946, there was the incident of the Indian porter in Seattle who dropped my luggage, spilling its contents all over the railway platform, and my angry response telling the man he should return to the jungles of India where he and his kind belonged, and if he couldn't use the hands God gave him any better, he would better off without them, and the man turning and leaping off the platform in front of a passing horse-drawn wagon which ran over his hands and crushed them. An accident I thought as I wrote at the time, the man tripping over his own feet and in reaching out to break his fall, by a freak chance placing his hands in the path of the wagon. I no longer think so.

I have thought long of these things, as to if they are all coincidences or if there is a greater message. They all have in common strong emotions, lust, anger, hate, fear, and frustration, usually a combination of several, and they have all resulted in causing harm to another, and all while I was wearing this cursed headband sitting now on the desk before me. Sadly in all my efforts to understand its purpose and mode of operation over these past fifty-seven years and seven months I have barely begun to comprehend, and despite the much good I have been able to bring boys and men over these years, I cannot ignore the facts I have just penned. And so, I go now to bury this accursed crown of Satan in the hopes nobody will ever find it again and wash my hands of it."

In computer class next period he could not help wondering what the class would think if they knew their teacher and his family went naked at home, and that while he slept with his teenage son Cory was sleeping with and fucking his wife. Anthony leaned over and asked if the party was still on after school, which totally distracted him for the rest of the period as he thought about the fun they'd be having in less than an hour. He was still thinking about that as he headed down the hall for his last class of the day.

"So, what did you think you were doing, staring at my girl?" shouted Nick Dawson angrily, interrupting Cory's thoughts. Almost a foot taller, the slender grade nine student towered over Ben Hanson as he stood in the middle of the hallway blocking Ben's path.

"I wasn't," Ben replied meekly, staring down at the floor.

"You wasn't? You calling my girl a liar?"

"No, of course not," Ben replied quickly, his fear evident in his voice.

"So which is it? Were you staring at her or is she lying?"

"Neither, I, ah, well 3; "

"I should punch you out right here, but I'd have to bend over to do it," Nick remarked with a snicker that caused his girl to giggle.

"Do it," encouraged Molly, Nick's girlfriend. "He deserves it. You should have seen the way he was looking at me. You know, like the pervert was undressing me with his eyes."

There wasn't a boy in school that didn't look at Molly Vickers and undress her with his eyes. When they'd returned to school the summer after grade six, Molly had returned with the biggest, firmest tits of any girl in grade seven, and now a year later, they were even more enhanced. Even a geek and egghead like Wilbur Thornton commented on her boobs, though on second thought, short, pudgy Ben Hanson was probably one of the few students in the school that didn't fantasize about Molly and her boobs, him and Dominic Halder who was too innocent and pure to have such thoughts. At least Ben didn't seem to be the type, though honestly Cory couldn't say for sure what type Ben was. Ben was in his computer class, and his physical education and science classes, but he didn't really know him. He was one of those students that was just there. He seldom said anything, and he was always looking down at his feet. He wasn't even sure what colour his eyes were. Ben Hanson was one of those students whom nobody really noticed, not even the teachers. At any rate, he certainly wasn't so foolish as to openly ogle Molly.

As Nick stepped forward, Ben drew back against the lockers, ready for the punch that Nick kept threatening him with but never actually delivered, so far. Instead Nick knocked his books on the floor and with a smirk and a laugh, headed off to class, his arm about Molly's waist. The bell rang and Ben scrambled to pick up his things. Cory bent down to help.

"Whoa, what's this?" he asked, picking up a computer printout. It was a guy sitting at a computer with some type of headband with different probes sticking out of it and connected by a wire to a little black box on the desk.

"That's a Cyberlink Mind Mouse," Ben replied softly, afraid Cory was going to make fun of it, or of him for having run off a copy. "It sends brainwave signals to a computer to operate it without using your hands."

"It does fucking what?"

"It sends 3;"

"Sends brainwaves?"

"Yeah." Ben was in a quandary. The bell had gone and he was going to be late for class which was causing him great anxiety, but Cory being the first one to actually talk to him that day he wanted to explain the device to him too.

"Oh man, you gotta tell me more about this!"

"Ah, sure, I'd be glad to. Ah, maybe you can come to my house after school 3;"

"No, I got plans for after school." Ben's face fell. He should have known. Everyone had plans after school, everyone except him. He never had any plans. None that involved anyone other than himself. Beside it was just a dumb computer tool. To think Cory might have been interested enough 3;

"But I can come after supper. How about say six-thirty?"

"Oh yeah! Sure! Six-thirty would be super!"

"Cool, I'll see ya then," Cory said, shoving the rest of the papers in Ben's arms and rushing down the hall. "Oh, by the way, what's your address?"

"It's 154 Briarwood Close," Ben replied, just standing there and staring at Cory in surprise.

"I'll find it."

Billy was waiting for them after school and Cory, Terry, Anthony and Dominic, eager for the party to start, piled into his red Corvette and headed to Cory's house, stopping to pick up Jonah who sadly informed them that he had asked but his father had not given him permission. Cory didn't know how, but he'd make it up to the seven-year-old boy and see that his father paid for his decision to deny his son a bit of fun. Billy had just finished setting up the cameras and checking the lighting in the living room when Kenneth arrived. The previous day after he'd posed at the doorway for the black dude before he left, he'd agreed to come back whenever Cory told him to, and he'd barely finished throwing up outside his own home when Cory phoned him and told him to come to his house after school on Monday. Despite his revulsion, and his torment as he relived the events over and over the rest of the evening and as he tossed and turned all night, and all of today at school, whenever he thought about returning at the end of the day he not only felt a compulsion to obey but felt himself becoming aroused, and by the time he had arrived at Cory's he was even more eager than the others to begin. Jason and Anton, least certain of all of them, arrived shortly afterward. They were boys and not about to pass up an opportunity for some more fun as much as it was contrary to their upbringing and beliefs and despite the guilt and embarrassment both had felt biking home yesterday and seeing each other at school today and knowing what each other had done on Sunday. They were also hesitant in that they had no idea what they might end up having to do and if they would like it, but the uncertainty what would happen to them if they didn't show up far outweighed the other.

Billy again had each of the boys come to the door and Cory greet them like on Sunday, and told them to just act as they did when they met after school and to talk about things they always did, but to spice it up with some four-letter words, which was not a difficulty for most of them and was just natural for Cory and Anthony. Again there was no real plot, the main purpose of the video being the action, which he readily left to Cory.

So after a few minutes of talking about school and teachers, music and sports, and being bored and horny, all typical topics for the group of early teens and preteens, Cory asked if anyone wanted something to drink or some snacks, the first of only two cued line in the entire video. Of course everyone did. Picking up a silver bell, one of three props Billy had brought, he rang it. Kenneth arrived in seconds with bowls of chips, nuts and Nachos and cans of soda and wearing the second prop, a sheer black nylon backless thong that he'd called faggot boy toy underwear yesterday when he'd seen Dominic wearing one. With his muscular body and developing chest and pit hair and good looks, the seventeen-year-old football quarterback could have been a model in a woman's skin magazine, or a gay mag. Of course the reaction of the early teen and preteen boys was much different, all of them snorting and giggling in surprise and amusement, all of course which was genuine and Billy knew would enhance the video.

They got right into the action with Cory telling his scantily-clad servant that his guests were horny besides hungry, and he was expecting him, as his new boy toy, to make them happy, the second of the lines Billy had given him. They began with Kenneth seductively walking over and sitting on the sofa between Terry and Anthony and unbuttoning their shirts while caressing their bodies and kissing them, on the lips and on the necks, and on down to their chests where he nibbled on their nipples, causing them to become firm and the boys to begin to squirm with arousal. While he nibbled and licked the nipples of one boy he ran his hands along the thighs of the other, and then vice versa. Undoing Terry's belt and pulling down his fly, he slipped his hand inside and cupped the bulge in the thirteen-year-old's boxers as Billy zoomed in on the action. Terry raised his buttocks so Kenneth could pull down his jeans and then he sat and watched, his snake twitching in his boxers, as Kenneth similarly opened Anthony's pants and groped him and then pulled them down. As he pulled down their boxers, their young cocks stood straight up looking for attention. From the way his skimpy thong was stretched out it was evident Kenneth was turned on also.

Dropping to his knees before the sofa he nibbled and licked Terry's balls and cock while he reached over and caressed Anthony's thighs and fiddled with his cock. Licking Terry's smooth, hairless pubes and large balls, he stroked his thigh as he wrapped the fingers of his other hand about Anthony's aching cock. Running his tongue along the rim of Terry's knob, he caused the boy to jerk and squirm with desire. After a few more minutes of licking and caressing which had the two thirteen-year-old's quivering with pleasure, Cory took a tube of lube, the third prop Billy had brought, out of his pocket and handed it to Kenneth. Squeezing out a dollop on Anthony's throbbing dickhead, he spread it out over his circumcised knob and down the shaft of his young cock and then squeezing out another generous dollop on his index and middle fingers, he reached behind and greased up his asshole, coating his anus with the grease and slowly slipping first the index finger and then the middle finger into his rectum. He'd never stuck anything up his ass before, and he quivered with the erotic sensation of feeling his finger slipping into the hot, moist depths of his ass.

He then turned his attention back to Terry. The thirteen-year-old watched with delight as Kenneth opened his mouth and slipped his lips over his knob, and he smiled with pleasure as the older boy's cheeks sunk in and he began to suck on his organ. His breathing grew heavier as Kenneth slowly eased his lips down to his hairless pubes, and he squirmed and sighed with the wild sensation of having a hot, moist mouth totally enveloping his stiff boner. As Kenneth began to work his lips up and down his aching, throbbing boy cock, Terry ran his fingers through the boy's hair. Anthony of course had some experience at fucking ass, having fucked Anton's kid brother François, and the lube made penetrating Kenneth easy. He grasped the older boy's firm buttocks and slowly began to pump his hips to and fro, working his throbbing, aching little boner in and out of the boy's hot, moist rectum. Fucking someone four years older than himself was a totally different experience, especially doing it before a bunch of other guys and being taped and photographed. He soon forgot his self-consciousness as lust took over his mind, and his lips curled with pleasure as he began to bang away at Kenneth's ass, enjoying the throbbing of his hot, moist hole and the throbbing of his own dick.

Yesterday was the first time Kenneth had ever engaged in any sex with another male. Yet despite being totally heterosexual and having had no interest nor experience in doing anything sexual with other males, he found himself aching with lust and pleasure as he serviced the two thirteen-year-old boys. He sucked on Terry's dick and worked his lips up and down the slender young cock as if it was a candy cane, and as the boy tensed and sighed he knew the pleasure he was feeling between his legs and he was delighted that he was the cause of that pleasure. As for getting his ass fucked, he got just as much pleasure hearing Anthony grunting and panting and knowing that his slender young cock was aching with the same pleasure as Terry's and that he again was the reason for that pleasure. The burning stimulation of having his sphincter stretched open for the first time in his life, and the eroticism of having his virgin ass fucked by a horny thirteen-year-old boy had him squirming with his own physical pleasure. He was making both boys happy, as he'd been told to do.

Inhaling faster and faster and deeper and deeper, Terry finally felt that familiar and still exciting twang deep in his loins and he grasped Kenneth's head and tangled his locks in his fingers as he felt his cum begin to gush up his slender, young cock. His thin, watery early teen cum spurted out quickly and forcefully, and Kenneth inhaled deeply through his nose as he felt the watery spurts striking the roof of his mouth and across his tongue. He sucked deeply on the now numb tube and swallowed as Billy took a close up of his face. Moments later Anthony felt the same twang in his loins, and as he felt his cum racing up the core of his young cock, he pulled out and shot all over Terry's back, streaking the teenage football player with his thin, watery juice.

Dominic and Cory were next. Cory smiled as Kenneth unbuckled Dominic's belt and pulled down his fly and he saw that Dominic was wearing his nylon thong from Sunday. He smiled even wider when Kenneth untied the flimsy underwear and revealed that the twelve-year-old had a boner. Evidently his earlier problem of not being able to get it up wasn't a problem today. Squatting down between his outspread legs, Kenneth licked his young, still developing balls, taking one and then the other in his mouth and sucking on it, causing the boy's cocklet to twitch with arousal. Dominic could not help wondering if Kenneth sucked on his older sister's tits like he was sucking on his balls, and as Kenneth slipped his lips over his slender cocket and began to suck on it, the thought of Kenneth kissing his sister with those same lips caused a wave of erotic arousal to throb between his loins. He so wished his sister could see what her great boyfriend was doing at that moment.

Cory smiled at the look of ecstasy on young Dominic's face as he knelt behind Kenneth, his stiff early-teen cock having been lubed by his boy toy before he'd gone down on Dominic. Grasping the seventeen-year-old's hips, he easily sank his cock up his rectum. Having plowed Anton's ass and Anton's mother's ass, and having popped Dominic's prune yesterday, he was becoming a pro ass fucker. He paused and concentrated on the sensation of having a hot, moist asshole surrounding and throbbing about his young bone, enjoying the feeling for a moment before beginning to fuck. He then slowly began to pump his hips, delighting in the friction that caused his dickhead to burn and his shaft to throb. It was fucking awesome being a boy. He looked down at the spatters of cum his best buddy Anthony had left on the teenager's back as he worked his cock in and out of the hole his best buddy's cock had just been in. That was a weird thought and he quivered with the delight it brought.

Dominic saw Cory's smile and he delighted as much in seeing his pleasure as in the pleasure he himself was feeling between his legs. That he'd gotten a bone on that afternoon with no difficulty had not gone by unnoticed, and he knew it had to do with having sex in the presence of other guys, and particularly being in the presence of Cory Wilson. As he looked past the cum spatters on Kenneth's back and at Cory's young cock pistoning in and out of his ass, he knew how it felt to be fucked, and in a way he envied Kenneth, particularly in that it was Cory's cock that was inside him. Getting his cock sucked and having sex along with Cory was great too of course, and as he felt the pressure developing in his loins he looked up Cory just as Cory did the same and their eyes met. Dominic smiled with admiration and delight at his new friend, and their eyes were still locked as his dry orgasm shot through his loins and caused him to quiver. Cory knew very well what was happening from the curl of Dominic's lips and the shine in his pretty steel-blue eyes, and knowing he was climaxing brought Cory to his peak. Like Anthony, he pulled out at the last second and added his watery early teen juice to the shots Anthony had laced Kenneth's back and butt with, his eyes locked on Dominic's also.

Anton and Jason followed, Jason choosing to get sucked as it was an experience he'd had the day before and something he knew, and because the idea of sticking his cock up another guy's ass was repulsive despite the obvious pleasure Anthony and Cory had felt. After watching the other two pairs of boys getting off, he of course already had a boner, and that he'd boned up watching guys having sex and anticipating the same bothered him greatly. He was randy, but there was only one type of boy who got randy under those situations. Up until yesterday he'd have sworn he'd never get aroused by faggot sex, and up until yesterday he'd considered guys who had sex with other guys as sick pervs. He still did. Despite the pleasure throbbing between his legs as Kenneth sucked on his cock and worked his lips up and down the shaft, it was faggot sex, and the seventeen-year-old boy sucking on his cock was a sick perv. The difference between the two of them was that he was not the one doing the sucking.

Anton was not very keen on what he was about to do as he knelt behind Kenneth, but he had no choice. Getting your cock sucked was one thing, but sticking it up someone's filthy asshole was a totally different thing. He of course knew about ass fucking, having been fucked several times by Cory in front of his father and brother, and he and his kid brother getting fucked in front of their father eleven times now in the park. He knew it was eleven times because after each and every time he twisted and turned in shame and torment for the rest of the day and waited in fear and loathing for the next time. Now it was his turn to do the fucking. As he slipped his slender twelve-year-old cock up Kenneth's rectum, he knew exactly how Kenneth was feeling, and now for the first time he discovered what it was like to be the fucker. As Kenneth's hot, wet ass tightened about his cock he was surprised just how tight it felt, and as he began to pump his hips to and fro he was surprised just how pleasant it was. Having a hot, throbbing ass surrounding your dick while it throbbed and ached with that burning pleasure was not a bad thing. So what did that make him?

It was with that thought that he felt the twitch at the base of his cock and like Cory and Anthony had done, he withdrew it. This day his balls had decided to function and they squirted out a thin quick two spurts of his still developing, preteen fluids, adding them to the spatters of Cory and Anthony. Jason squirmed and sighed with pleasure as he too came, spurting his young seed into Kenneth's mouth. The two boys glanced across his naked body at each other, their sexual pleasure evident in the shine of their eyes and they blushed with embarrassment and shame for having come and for having enjoyed it and especially for having enjoyed engaging in fag sex.

Kenneth Ballard saw nothing wrong with what they had done. He had but one thought on his mind and one purpose in his life, and that was to please the boys as he'd been told. That was his duty, his desire. He was a boy and he knew the pleasure of having a hot, throbbing cock being stroked, and the powerful pleasure of climaxing, whether it be dry or wet. Of course his own knowledge came totally from pleasuring himself with his hand, but having your aching cock stroked by a pair of lips or by shoving it up an ass had to be as pleasant, and probably even more so in that it was doing it with another person. So it was with another guy, so what? Was a guy's mouth or ass any different from a woman's? In fact it had to be better. A guy knew what it was like to have a cock.

That he'd brought the boys pleasure there was no doubt. The smiles on their flushed faces, their now limp and wet cocks, the taste of young boy cum in his mouth and the hot, sticky spatters of it on his back, they were evidence of his success. So, when Cory told him to remove his thong and to jack himself off he did so willingly, because Cory told him, and because it would bring Cory and his friends still more pleasure. He slipped his shirt on so as not to stain the carpet and lay on his back and threw his legs over his head. His shirt stuck to his back as he stroked his hard, throbbing seven-inch [18cm] cock, feeling so large compared to the slender dicklets of the boys. It throbbed with pleasure as he drew his foreskin all the way back to reveal his mushroom-shaped knob to his audience, and he quivered with the electric shocks that ripped through the glans as he pushed his foreskin back over it. It felt great, as it always did, and doing it there surrounded by six naked, flushed boys felt even better than when he did it at night in his bed thinking of Nikki Halder. He was bringing not just himself pleasure but them too by the act. He stared at the pee slit as he felt himself coming, watching for the first shot of his juice just as the six boys around him were watching with as much anticipation. As he spattered his chest with his hot, thick creamy load, he sighed with the pleasure and looking up at the smiling faces of the boys gathered around him, he knew he'd done well.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Cory smiled as he wolfed down his supper. He had a lot to smile about. First there was the wicked party at his house after school. Making seventeen-year-old Kenneth Ballard their own personal sex toy had been hot, and knowing he was helping Dominic get a bit of revenge back on the boyfriend of his sister made it even hotter. Then there were the looks on Mrs Gilles's face and that of her daughter when he showed up at the house in Billy's red corvette. He'd just intended on getting a lift, but their anxiety thinking that Billy might come in while Julius and his sons were at home was hilarious. He couldn't help it if they were related to Goosey Gilles and had become part of his revenge on him. Besides, like Billy said, they were just bitches, and bitches were made by God to please men. When God made Eve as Adam's helpmate, it wasn't to help do the dishes Billy had laughed. His parents had phoned while he was away with the news that his father was going to be away at least until the weekend, and his mother too. He missed them both, being one those boys who did have a happy home life, so that wasn't something to smile about, but it also meant he'd have more time and opportunity to continue tormenting Goosey and his family, which definitely was a happy thought. Then of course there was supper. Mrs Gilles was as good in the kitchen as she was in the bedroom. He'd have to tell her that tonight. And last, there was the chance bumping into Ben 3; what's his name. He might finally be getting a clue why he'd gotten such total control over Kenneth that evening.

Ben What's His Name was happy too, but the anticipated visit by Cory Wilson was also accompanied by the greatest angst he'd ever felt in his thirteen years of living. Short and pudgy and a quiet loner and painfully shy, he was desperately lacking in personal communication skills, all of which meant he had no close friends. What was he going to say when Cory arrived? He didn't really know any of the things other guys were interested in, like music groups or television celebrities or sports. Suppose he said or did something to make him look foolish? He absolutely never had friends over to this house, and had never been invited over to anyone else's house, except for birthday parties when he was a little kid. Suppose he totally blew it? Suppose Cory told everyone at school the next day what a nerd he was? Suppose Cory didn't show up?

After supper he went to his room and straightened the cover on the bed, hoping the pattern wasn't too nerdy but not knowing what other boys had on their beds, made sure his pajamas were in the dresser drawer where he'd put them before supper instead of keeping them under his pillow, just in case they needed the pillow or something, checked his desk to make sure there was nothing nerdy on it, put the picture of his mom and dad in his desk drawer and then took it out and put it on his desk again, and checked the clock a dozen times in the six minutes left before six-thirty. When the minute hand joined the hour hand on the six he knew Cory wasn't coming and his heart sank. When the doorbell rang, he leaped so high off the bed it was a surprise his head didn't hit the ceiling.

"Hi," greeted Cory as the door opened. "I've come to see Ben."

The woman looked somewhat surprised and a little puzzled. Maybe it was because of his copper headband. As she began to turn, Ben came running to the door.

"Hi," he said with a wide grin.

"Hi."

"Ah, this is my mom, and, ah, Mom, this is Cory."

"Hi," Cory said with his best behaviour smile. He'd have called her Mrs whatever, but he still couldn't remember Ben's last name. In fact as he'd biked over to 154 Briarwood Close, he came to the conclusion he'd never heard Ben's last name mentioned, and to his disappointment they didn't have one of those 'Welcome to the What's Their Name's' signs outside.

"Well, come on in. Ben, you didn't tell us you were expecting company," she said with a pleased smile. That was true. Fearing Cory wouldn't actually come, he didn't want to look foolish by telling his parents he was going to have company.

"Cory's come over to, ah 3;"

"Look at some neat computer stuff Ben was telling me about."

"Well, you boys go on up to Ben's room then. And don't forget the computer rule, Ben," she warned. 'Oh boy,' thought Cory, 'here comes the shit about not surfing sites kids weren't supposed to surf, as if any kid in the world was going to follow that rule.' "No eating or drinking anything by the computer," she finished. Now that rule wasn't what he'd been thinking.

"We won't," Ben promised, feeling embarrassed. Why did his mother have to mention that, like he was a little kid or something? He was thirteen! Well, by a week now, not that anybody had noticed other than his mom and dad and his grandparents.

"If you want to know anything about computers, you've come to the right person," his mother said with a smile. "Ben knows more about that sort of thing than his father and I combined. He spends hours on it."

Ben blushed, with the praise, and with the embarrassing comment about how much time he spent on it. Of course he did. He had no friends to do anything else with to occupy his time. Before his mother embarrassed him any more, he lead Cory to his room.

It was the typical room of a thirteen-year-old boy, a bed, a dresser, a bookcase, and a desk with his school books sitting on it. It was not typical in that it was exceptionally neat and tidy, and the bookcase was crammed full with books, mostly hard cover books about computers, and there were no posters or anything on the walls. It was also atypical in that it had a computer desk and his own personal computer, printer, scanner, and web cam and a neat row of computer software and games that took up an entire shelf on the wall beside the computer. The printout about the Mind Mouse was right on top of a stack of papers.

"So, tell me all about this Mind Mouse thing."

"Yeah, sure!" Ben replied as he picked it up, and then looked around. He knew he'd screw up something. He'd forgotten to get an extra chair for Cory to sit on. They could sit on his bed, but sitting on a guy's bed was sort of personal. "Ah, here," he said, shoving the papers at Cory. "I'll get you a chair. Ah, you can sit on mine. I'll get another chair for me. I'll be right back." He knew he was going to look stupid. He was back before Cory even had time to sit.

"So, where'd you get this?"

"From the Future Horizons website."

"Yeah?" Cory had never heard of it. "So what is it exactly?"

"It's a hands-free computer controller that lets you operate the computer without using your hands."

"How the fuck can it do that?"

Ben glanced automatically at the door. He hadn't thought to close it. To do so now would be obvious, and one thing Ben did not like being was obvious. But if his mother heard such language 3;

"Sorry. I forget my language sometimes."

"That's okay. Really."

"So, how does this thing work?"

"It has this headband, or harness they call it, that has three sensors that detect electric signals on the forehead produced by your face muscles, your eye movement, and your brain. It sends these electric signals to an interface box 3;"

"Whoa! Did you say electric signals produced by your brain?"

"Yeah. The brain produces these different types of brain waves, which are energy waves."

"No shit!"

"Really," Ben replied as he shifted uncomfortably.

"Okay, go on."

"Well, these signals are sent to an interface box that amplifies and digitizes the signals and sends them to the computer."

"Digitizes?"

"Yeah, you know, converts them into a number code, the code computers use to operate."

"Oh yeah, sure," Cory replied, not having a clue what Ben was talking about at that point. "Go on."

"Well the headband comes with Cyberlink software that decodes the signals into what they call BrainFingers. There's ten of them so you have continuous control of the mouse cursor. And the software decodes your eye motion and your facial gestures besides so you can like click the mouse button by your eye movement, and you can do keystrokes and control curser resolution." Ben had gone way over Cory's head by then. "You can use the Cyberlink Mind Mouse to operate a joy stick, video game controls, other software, Internet browsers, even to create music and art."

"No fuckin' way!"

"Really." It felt strange to have another guy cursing like Cory did, sort of daring, something he'd never do in a million years.

"So why did they make this? Because people are too lazy to use their hands?"

"No, mostly for handicapped people. You can use the mind mouse for all kinds of assistive technologies."

"Assistive what?"

"Devices the handicapped can get to help them. Like the X-10 Home Controller, ViVik2, Word Plus, almost any type of word processing and communication software for people who can't use their hands."

"Wow, you must need a special computer to do all that junk," Cory said, having no idea what most of it meant but impressed all the same.

"Not really. You just need a PC with a Pentium Processor, 16 MB RAM and 20 MB Disk Space VGA or better, and Windows 95."

"It must cost a bundle."

"Yeah. It's $1495, plus shipping."

"Whoa! That's a lot of cash! How'd you find out about it?"

"I was just looking for stuff. On the Internet," Ben replied a bit evasively. "There's lots of other stuff like it too."

"No way."

"Really. Like there's a thing they have that's called the Mind Switch that allows a person to turn electrical appliances on and off with their mind, and that can adjust the control of like the volume of the radio or TV by using eeg signals."

"Egg signals?"

"No, eeg, not egg. That stands for electroencephalography. Scientists found out when you close your eyes the brain increases signals in the 8-13Hz part of the brain spectrum, what they call the alpha waves. They use eeg to detect things like brain tumours and schizophrenia, and in biofeedback where a patient can modify his own eeg signal to like slow down his heart and stuff. According to Silent Sounds Inc. it's possible by using supercomputers to detect human emotional eeg patterns, copy them, and silently induce them to change the emotional state of another person."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down! Tell me all that again, slower."

"Well, you see the eeg machine is software-driven by super-fast computers using noisenulling technology like nuclear submarines use to detect small objects at great distances. By using these computer-enhanced eegs, scientists can pick up and separate the brain's low amplitude waves, like say a particular emotion signature cluster like say fear, synthesize them, and store them on a computer. They can then send the waves out on a Silent Sound carrier frequency to trigger the same emotion in another person."

"Shit! And what is a Silent Sound carrier?"

"Things like microwave signals, or radio and television signals. They are sent through the air but you can't hear them until a device like the microwave receiver or the TV picks them up and converts them into sounds we can hear, or sounds that we think we can hear."

"What you mean by that?"

"Well, like a TV will decode the signal and play it at a frequency your conscious mind can hear, but if the signal was aimed at your brain at 16 kHz only your unconscious mind would hear it. That's why sometimes people with fillings can hear radio messages. The fillings change the low frequency wave into a higher frequency so your conscious mind can pick it up. But in most people your unconscious mind is receiving it and storing it but just not telling you sort of."

"So, like, you could send a message at this low frequency that say tells a person they're horny and their brain can pick it up but they don't know it has."

"Exactly. That's what the army did during Desert Storm to influence the Iraqi's."

"They told the Iraqi's they were horny?"

"No," giggled Ben. "They sent subliminal messages by computer and huge radio transmitting towers near the battlefront telling the Iraqi's to surrender."

"And you found all this stuff out on the Internet?"

"Yeah."

"Shit, and I thought the only thing the Internet was good for was to find porn," Cory said with a grin.

"Oh no, it's 3;," began Ben, and then realizing Cory was joking he laughed. He was not used to people telling him jokes. He was not used to laughing either. It felt good. "Not that you'd be interested in anything like that," Cory continued with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh no," Ben replied with a grin as he shook his head. He wondered if he dared show Cory his porn collection of big-boobed women but was too afraid what he might think or say. "Want me to show you some of the web sites? About Silent Sound and stuff?" That was a lot safer.

"Sure."

Turning on his computer, Ben began with Future Horizons, which he'd bookmarked, and went on to some of his other favourite sites. His mother came up with a plate of cookies and milk, and after a break they returned to the computer until she came up again and said it was getting late and they'd have to quit. To their surprise it was nine-thirty. Ben had never spent such a delightful evening in his entire life.

So, if he understood everything right, his headband was somehow acting like the Mind Mouse or Mind Switch, taking his thoughts and converting them to silent sound and transmitting them to the other person's brain, which decoded the thoughts so they could be 'heard'. He and his great-grandfather were using the headband at that conscious level of thinking, but were drawing on their subconsciousness also when they summoned up their feelings and broadcast them too, sending those emotional signature cluster things, which was why they could make people feel horny or whatever. And there were some times when they operated more at the subconscious level, when emotions were the main thing broadcast instead of thoughts, like when he'd been annoyed with his mother and angry with Kenneth, or those times his great-grandfather had mentioned in his diary. They all involved emotions which he still didn't understand why but somehow made the other person totally accept the thought that went with it, like to frig your ass with a pepper mill or to be a slave, to jump out a window or even throw yourself in front of a horse-drawn wagon. That was what he figured anyway, and there was one way to prove it, which would be easy since he was living with the test animals.

Arriving at the Gilles, he went straight to the family room where the family was accustomed to gathering at the end of the day before going to bed. Stripping down and joining them, he first tried something simple, like thinking about Annette scratching her pussy, and when that didn't work, scratching her armpit, and finally scratching her nose. When nothing worked, he tried to make her cry by thinking of the saddest things he could, like the death of his grandfather. She shifted uncomfortably, but he didn't achieve his objective of making her cry. Of course it was sort of a fake sadness in that he really hadn't known his grandfather all that well really. It wasn't like his anger with Kenneth. He focussed on Julius and his hate for the man because of the way he treated kids and tried one of his great-grandfather's tricks, thinking of him picking his nose, but all he did was shift uncomfortably too. Remembering that he'd read something that night about brainwaves becoming lower if you closed your eyes, he closed his, and when that didn't work, he tried blinking them and rolling them and tried using his face muscles until finally Antoinette asked him if something was wrong. Giving up in disappointment, he realized he was hungry again and wondered if there was any more peach pie left.

"Is there any more peach pie left?"

Cory looked up in surprise. It had been Anton who had asked, not him.

"Yes there is."

"Can I have a slice? I'm feeling sort of hungry."

"That's funny, so am I," replied his mother. "I was just thinking of peach pie myself actually."

The rest of the family confessed they were too. Realizing he really hadn't been actually thinking consciously about it but was more like feeling it, as they gathered at the table, he decided to try it again, this time thinking about how his balls felt being itchy and closing his eyes for added luck. Slowly, one by one, the male Gilles's reached down between their legs and scratched.

"Well, I'm pooped. I'm going to bed," he said with a fake yawn as he got up, sending what he hoped was a feeling of tiredness to everyone, along with a last subliminal message.

Telling Antoinette he was too tired for fucking, he went to François' room to sleep. As soon as everyone had gone to their bedrooms, he crept down to the family room, turned on the lamp by the sofa, set up the video camera, and then hid behind Juliette's bean bag chair. He did not have to wait long. Five minutes later Mrs Gilles slipped into the room and headed straight for the sofa where he'd been sitting and sat down. Picking up his underwear that he'd left there on purpose, she held it to her face and sniffed it and then rubbed it over her cheek with a look like it was the finest silk. She sniffed around the fly, stained a light yellow from the last drop of piss, and from the look of delight in her eyes you'd think she was smelling a rose. Closing her eyes and burying her face in his soiled underwear just like in the fantasy he'd imagined before going to bed, she caressed her breasts and then reached down and caressed her pussy, which he had not envisioned though he'd thought about how he felt when he was horny. She was soon moaning and squirming as her finger slicked in and out of her hot, dripping cunt as she brought herself to an orgasm.

Juliette was next, only minutes after her mother had left. It was so erotic to see the naked seven-year-old sitting there on the sofa with her face buried in his now warm underwear after her mother had done the same and rubbing her young, hairless slit. Of course she was not as vigorous as her mother had been and didn't insert her finger, and although she felt the same horniness, she really didn't know what the feeling was other than rubbing herself between her legs helped to reduce it. Her breathing slowly grew deeper and her chest, looking no different from a young boy's and still having the fatty breast padding of a child rose and fell as she rubbed her little slit as fast as she could, her face buried in the soiled, white briefs. Like her mother, she rubbed until her little naked body was jerking uncontrollably with the very first orgasm of her life. As she got up and left on weak, wobbly legs, the dazed look on her surprised and flushed face was worth staying up to see.

She was followed by her nine-year-old brother François who similarly sniffed the crotch of the warm underwear like a little pervert as he fiddled with his little dick which quickly grew hard, evidence of his pleasure. He inhaled and exhaled deeply into the soiled underwear as he pumped his thumb and first finger up and down his throbbing, aching little three-inch [7½cm] cocklet. He'd fiddled with himself before, innocently and absentmindedly as all children do until his parents told him that was a bad thing to do, which his parents did. These past four weeks he'd resumed his fiddling, usually at night in bed before he went to sleep when thoughts of Lane Spudder fucking him as his older brother and father were fucked caused his little dick to become hard. It had become sort of a habit, and when Anton and he started to sleep in the same bed, he'd had to go to the bathroom to please himself. In those times he quit after a couple minutes, and before when he had his own bed he usually fell asleep doing it. This night, for the first time, he went all the way. It was not his first orgasm, having achieved that both having his little cocklet sucked by his brother and by having had his ass royally fucked, but it was the first by his own hand. As his body trembled and his little thin legs jerked, he inhaled the fragrance of Cory's used underwear deeply and groaned with his dry orgasm.

There was a bit of a break before his older brother Anton slipped into the room, the twelve-year-old probably having had to wait until he figured his brother was asleep. Like his kid brother he rubbed the underwear over his face as he jerked off. It was not, unlike his kid brother, the first time he'd ever masturbated, having resorted to that release when his raging hormones and young imagination got the best of him and he had to satisfy the ache of his constantly stiff little cocklet. And of course he'd just that Sunday been jacked off and jacked off Billy Dean, his first experience doing someone else and having someone else do him which to his added guilt and disgust afterward, had been with a black man. Having shot off a load after school fucking Kenneth Ballard, his preteen balls had not yet refilled and so like his kid brother he wanked until he had a dry orgasm.

Annette was next, and like her brothers and her sister and mother, she sniffed the used underwear and ran it over her cheeks and her lips, and closed her eyes in the ecstasy of the fragrance as she finger fucked her bald pussy. As Cory watched her finger slipping in and out of her naked slit and saw the droplets of cunt juice dripping between her legs and onto the sofa, he thought about the videos Billy had shown him of her shaving herself and finger fucking herself, and of him fucking the shit out of her. That had really been hot, and seeing the fourteen-year-old now vigorously diddling herself while sniffing his dirty white briefs was doubly hot.

Julian was the next to appear, and like his younger brothers, he just as eagerly sought out the still warm underwear and sniffed it as he fiddled with his cock. Unlike his two younger brothers, he had succumbed to the joys of jacking off several years ago and did it on a regular basis, though that wasn't something he'd admit to anyone, and especially to his buddies or his soccer teammates. It was his only sexual outlet at the moment, but he was hoping that was about to change. To Cory's surprise, the sixteen-year-old was much larger than he'd been lead to believe from when he'd seen his dick when they sat around naked, his stiff dick being at least five and a half inches [14cm] when it was stiff. Normally jacking off to thoughts of his girlfriend or any of a dozen other girls he knew, jerking off sniffing a thirteen-year-old boy's used underwear was totally new to him, but he had an irresistible urge to do just that, and doing it, brought him as intense pleasure as jerking off thinking of girls. Being naked and not having brought anything to catch his stuff, he grabbed the first thing he saw, which happened to be the bowl of unpopped and half-popped popcorn kernals, and from the thickness and amount of his spooge, he evidently had been very turned on indeed. As Cory watched Julian sniffing his used underwear and shooting off a load, he wondered what his girlfriend would think if she saw the video, or what his soccer team buddies would think. Now that would be wicked!

Goosey was the last of them, and like the rest of his family, he took great delight in Cory's underwear. Seeing the hairy, overweight forty-four-year-old teacher sniffing his dirty briefs and pumping his stiff, throbbing cock like some oversexed and under satisfied teenager was wicked. Like the rest of his family, he'd had this strange, compelling urge to smell and feel his thirteen-year-old guest's used underwear, an urge he could not resist, and one he'd tried several times that night to satisfy only to find one or another of his family was having a restless, sleepless night. Now that he had his chance, he stretched back and enjoyed the smell of the boy's underwear, sniffing the piss-stained crotch like it was an exotic perfume as he pumped his stiff, six-inch [15cm] cock. Like Julian he hadn't brought anything to catch his load in, and like his oldest son, he grabbed the same bowl and added his thick spurts of spooge to it. Cory smiled at the sight of his hated teacher getting his nuts off in the family popcorn bowl while sniffing his used underwear. That would be something to show his students! Maybe he could offer to tape another video of Julius jerking off sniffing the used underwear of whoever was the highest bidder. Or maybe he should send the video to the Area Superintendent, Dominic's father. Now that would really be wild!

When he came into the kitchen the next morning for breakfast, he could see the guilt in everyone's eyes although as far as each knew what had happened during the night was their secret. He innocently asked if anyone knew where he'd left his underwear the night before, and to his amusement, all seven spoke up.

So Cory was in a great mood in his Health class second period. Mel, as usual, asked if he could leave the room in the middle of the period, and as usual Julius told him to hold it until the break. Mel impishly asked if Julius would hold it for him, to which Julius exploded and told him he wasn't putting up with such insolence and to go see the Vice Principal. Melvin angrily asked why, was his lover going to hold it for him, of course having seen the tape in health 8B of the two of them sixty-nining. It was the first time anyone had mentioned the tape since they'd seen it almost five weeks ago and there was a gasp from the class as they held their breath waiting for the response. Unable to think of one, Julius resorted to his sarcasm, saying considering how often he had to go to the bathroom he should follow in his father's footsteps and become a janitor. Mel replied his father was the head custodian, not a janitor, and that there was nothing wrong with being a custodian, to which Julius agreed, if your ambition in life was to clean toilets, which was all Melvin was going to amount to the way he was going.

Both were angry and on top of it Julius was haggard, having had no sleep the previous night as he'd tried to come to terms with his latest perversion, sniffing used underwear of a thirteen-year-old boy. Cory, feeling empathy for Mel and feeling all the more angry with Julius, stepped in at that point, not verbally, but mentally, and summoning up all the anger he could feel and closing his eyes for good measure, he pictured Julius in the boy's room 3; cleaning the urinals 3; with his tongue 3; like a little kid licking the last bits of ice cream from his bowl. Opening his eyes a crack and seeing the man's face had gone blank, he closed his eyes and concentrated all the more fiercely like his great-grandfather had done with the priest, projecting how desperately he had to lick out the urinal, and how enjoyable it would be, not in words as he'd been doing, but in feelings.

Telling the class to continue working and that they'd be in trouble if he heard of any misbehaviour while he was gone, Julius headed to the door, his eyes glazed and his motions robotic. Everyone thought it was because of his anger, and that he was going to Stewart Millburne to report Mel, or to find Mel's father and tell them what his son had done. Mel was sure of it too. Cory of course knew differently. Telling Mel and his best buddy Anthony to come with him, he stopped first at the drama room to borrow the video recorder and then headed to the boys' room. As they stepped inside, Mel and Anthony could not believe their eyes. There was Julius Gilles in his suit and tie kneeling before the far urinal and licking it. They were in the old wing of the school where they still had the old urinals that extended down to the floor and looked like porcelain tubs standing on their ends and that were flushed manually, except the manual flushes were usually broken, not that boys bothered to use them anyway. Although it was only the second period of the day, you could already see yellow streaks along the back, except where Julius had already licked.

Julius ignored the three boys as he focussed on his objective. He had to clean the urinal until it was spotless white. The foul, salty taste, the possibility of who knows what diseases, the filthiness of what he was doing, the fact three of his students were watching and Cory Wilson was taping it, none of it mattered. All that mattered was that he lick the urinal clean. He could think of nothing else. He loved the saltiness, craving it like a man craves salted peanuts or potato chips. He loved the sharp, nitrogenous odour of piss which grew stronger as he licked down closer to the drain. He savoured it as a man savours the fragrance of a fine wine. Anthony and Mel stared unbelieving at the sight, and with unhidden amusement, especially Mel who found his hated teacher's behaviour fitting considering the heated exchange they'd just had. For the next twenty minutes Julius knelt there, licking the back and sides of each of the urinals. His tongue was sore and red from the salty, nitrogenous piss, and his jaw was aching from stretching open that long, but neither stopped him.

The school had strict rules about boys not using the washrooms during classes, though not all teachers enforced the rules strictly so there was the danger of someone else coming in and finding him. If another boy had come in it wouldn't have mattered to Julius. All that mattered was ensuring the urinals were clean. It didn't matter to Cory either. He even considered having him continue through the break but figured there just might be one guy who came in that wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut and the other teachers would overhear, and there was always some suckhole who would even go so far as to report what he'd seen directly to the Principal. There would be no telling where that would lead. So as the end of period bell was about to ring, he mentally told Julius he'd done a great job and that was enough for today, but that he'd do it again if he was told to, and that they wouldn't tell anyone what he'd done as long as he didn't report Mel.

"What the hell just happened?" Mel asked as they dropped off the video recorder back at the drama room, minus the videotape.

"Hey, the guy's a weirdo," observed Anthony. "You should see what he does with dogs in the park."

"How'd you do that?" Mel asked Cory, thinking Anthony was joking.

"Do what?"

"Make the bastard lick the urinals."

"Me?" asked Cory innocently, giving Mel his most angelic look.

"Well, I don't give a damn how. I'm just glad you did, and after seeing him licking the fuckin' urinals I don't give a damn if he reports me to Millburne, or to my dad."

"Oh, I have a feeling he won't be reporting you Melster," Cory said.

Mel glanced at him curiously, and then at the tape. "Blackmail?"

"I don't think we'll have to," Cory said, letting Mel think that would be the reason.

"Well, I owe you dude, big time. Anything you ever want, you just ask."

"Hey, anytime Melster. Stay cool," he said as he arrived at his math classroom.

As Anthony carried on to his class, he gave his buddy a thumbs up. Like Mel, he knew Cory had done it somehow, which was as weird and as mysterious as seeing Goosey lapping up the back of the urinal, but then Cory was an exceptional guy, and he was his best buddy. Besides, he was only thirteen. Who was he to question how things happened? The world was full of mysterious things going on.

The image of Goosey in the boys' room kept Cory in good spirits for the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon. Goosey of course was a basket case for the rest of the day. His nightmare of last night had suddenly gotten worse, and no matter how hard he tried to focus on his lessons, he could think of nothing else than what he'd done last night and in his Health 8 class. How could he have sniffed a boy's underwear, and then spent twenty minutes licking the urinals in the boys' room? He had to be mentally ill. Teachers had mental breakdowns due to the stress of the job. He just never heard of any teacher doing what he was doing though. Of course if that was what happened to other teachers when they had a breakdown, they certainly wouldn't be telling anyone. Not only couldn't he stop thinking about it, he couldn't get the foul, salty taste out of his mouth, no matter how much coffee he drank. In fact every cup tasted like piss.

Heading to science class the last period of the day, Cory spotted Nick Dawson walking his girlfriend Molly to the classroom with his arm about her waist, which was against one of the many rules the school had, and a way to get back at her for hassling Ben the previous day popped into his head, causing him to smile. He loved it when ideas just popped into his head like that. They were usually great ideas, and usually ones against the rules or that adults would object to. The school had a strict dress code, no tight jeans, no exposed necklines, no exposed midriffs, and no obscene shirts. He remembered Molly and her little snobbish clique making a big stink about the rules when they began going to Lincoln Junior High last year and had complained how they should dress how they wanted and that it was their bodies and they were after all now in junior high, not little kids.

Well, he'd just see what he could do with that idea with his headband. They were doing an experiment in class that day, which was going to allow him to move around and keep an eye on her. He began thinking how hot it was in the room, again just feeling and not thinking like he'd usually done when using the band, but directing the feeling toward her, and as he saw her fidgeting he knew he'd made contact with her subconsciousness. He then thought about how hot looking their science teacher Mister Simmons was, which was true. Fresh out of university, the dark-haired, dark-eyed twenty-two-year-old teacher was good looking and he had all the junior high girls in a twitter when he'd joined Lincoln Junior High that September, and unlike most of the old fogies at the school, except for Mrs. Pakorny, he was cool besides, for a teacher anyway.

Molly shifted uncomfortably. She was feeling extremely hot, and she had the feeling someone was staring at her. At first she figured it was that nerd Ben Hanson, but every time she looked in his direction he was focussing on their experiment with Wilbur Thornton. Figured. The two were into science. She glanced over at Mr. Simmons. He was so hot. She wished he'd notice her more. She unbuttoned the top button of her blouse, and then the next. She called him over and asked him if she was doing the experiment right. When he looked down, he could not help but look right down her blouse. As he blushed, she stuck her chest out. That was so hot!

Matt Simmons knew he should tell her to button up, but the room was hot, and it was a dumb rule. Besides, she had nice tits for a thirteen-year-old. He shook his head. Where did that thought come from? What could he possibly be thinking? They fired teachers for those kinds of thoughts. Encouraged by his glance at her breasts and the lack of reprimand for having her blouse unbuttoned, she undid still another button and as Matt Simmons sat down at his desk she approached, and leaned over in front of him to show him her lab notes and ask if she was doing them right. She could feel the heat of his breath on her breasts, and she wished he'd suck on them. Shocked, she returned to her desk. What was she possibly thinking? How could she have thought such a thing? It was hot though, she had to admit. And it had been exciting and daring to expose her breasts to him. He evidently liked them. She was so absorbed in her thoughts she didn't even hassle Ben as they headed down the hall like she usually did.

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