Maiocxx

Paulie

Chapter 1

As I crawled out of the car and began to walk toward the Doctor's front entrance, I noticed two boys tussling on the ground. A young teen-ager was sitting astride a much younger boy and was beating the crap out of him.

Whatever possessed me to intervene, I'll never know, but I rushed over to them, grabbed the older boy by the collar and hauled him off his victim. "That will be quite enough." I shouted, "Let him alone, you bully!" For a moment, I thought I saw the younger boy nod. The bully twisted away from me and ran off, disappearing around the side of the house.

Except for a few tears, my rescued boy actually didn't seem any worse for the wear and he lay there gazing up at me with the bluest eyes I have even seen. Those eyes held me in thrall! I judged him to be about eight or nine years old, with longish blonde hair and a cute snub nose with a dash of freckles across his cheeks. He was wearing a tight, white tee shirt, which showed off his well-developed chest, and the shortest pair of dark blue short-shorts one could imagine, showing off his slim, well-muscled legs nicely. And, when he smiled, it was like the sun coming from behind a very dark cloud. I just stood there for the longest time, drinking in his beauty.

His voice snapped me back to reality. "Oh thank you for saving me from that awful bully! He beats me up all the time!"

I knelt down beside him. "Are you all right?"

"I think so, but he hurt my leg. Could you rub it for me?" The smile captured me, once more. I reached down and gently kneaded his right calf. "No, higher, above the knee." I moved my hands upward. His skin was like fine satin, warm and soft under my hands. Electric sparks raced through my body. He was simply 3; delicious. "Now the other one." I did as bidden. More electric sparks. The tent in his shorts testified that he was enjoying my hands on his body, too.

Finally, "Oh that feels so good! That's much better! I think I can walk, now. You're on your way to see the Doctor. He's my father. Come on, I'll take you to him." He jumped up 3; no sign of a hurt leg 3; grabbed my hand and led me up the steps and into his father's office.

"Father, this nice man saved me from that awful Antonio!"

The Doctor was a fatherly looking man of middle age and he shook my hand. "You must be Daniel Connor! Thank you for helping Paulie. Please come into my office. Do you mind if Paulie sits quietly in the corner? He is a very inquisitive boy."

"I guess not," I replied.

Doctor Selden took me into a small examining room where checked out my knee and took my medical history and gave me a very thorough full examination. Some blood samples and a knee x-ray followed. The Doctor excused himself to go and check on the results. Paulie popped his head in the room. "Father will be back in a few minutes. May I come in?"

I nodded and he sat down in the chair opposite me. I just sat there drinking in the beauty of him. Shortly, the Doctor returned and shooed him out. "Well, as we expected you do have some damage of the cartilage in that knee. Nothing we can't fix, however. It's a minor surgery that we can do right here. I can guarantee you will see some immediate improvement."

"That's good news. When could you schedule it?"

"As a matter of fact, we happen to have an opening tomorrow morning, Tuesday. You'll need to stay overnight, but you'll be back home the next day and able to resume normal activities by Thursday. How does that sit with your schedule?"

I really had nothing planned. "That's fine with me."

"Good, I'll send a car and driver round to pick you up about 8:30 tomorrow morning. Don't eat anything after about 4:00 today." As I was leaving, Paulie insisted on giving me a big hug to thank me again for saving him. Who was I to object?

Next morning, car and driver appeared on the dot and I was whisked away to Dr. Selden and soon settled in a very nice room. The Doctor arrived in his green scrubs, accompanied by 3; Paulie, also in scrubs. "Paulie is going to assist me this morning; he often helps me with minor surgery. You don't mind, so you?"

"No," I answered, somewhat puzzled. But somehow, it seemed OK.

"All right, let's get started."

When I awoke, I was back in my room, and who should be there also? Paulie! "Hi," he said. "Father said you did very well and said I could keep you company." I actually felt pretty good; the knee did not hurt at all and Paulie's presence was an added bonus. He sat on the edge of my bed and we talked 3; well, mostly he talked about the ranch they lived on, his studies, and all the wonderful time his family had together. Typical eight-year-old boy stuff.

After a really delicious supper, he resumed his vigil. "Can I ask you a question? Promise you won' t get mad."

What could I possibly get mad at? "Sure!"

"Do you like boys?" Well, I should have seen that coming, but I hadn't. My love for boys was a well-kept secret, hidden all my adult life from even my closest friends and kin, and this kid was asking me to confess. But, somehow, I knew I had to tell him the complete truth and hope it would not mean the end of our budding friendship."

"Yes," I croaked.

"Lot's?"

"Yes, lots!"

"Cool!" After a pregnant pause, "Do you like me?" This kid should work for the Spanish inquisition. Again, complete candor was the only avenue

I gulped! "Paulie, you are the most beautiful and charming boy I have ever laid eyes on. I think I have fallen in love with you." When he did not run screaming from the room in search of his father and the nearest policeman, I continued, "I only hope we can continue to be friends."

"Super cool! I'm glad, and I would like to be your special friend, too." With that, he kissed me on the forehead and left. It was some time before my heart returned to normal and I drifted off to sleep. When I awoke the following morning, it was with a kiss from Paulie. I just looked at him, drinking in his beauty.

Paulie spent the morning with me 3; again lots of innocent chatter, but no more 'serious' questions. The Doctor came in after lunch examined his handiwork and pronounced me fit to go home. While I was glad to be out of surgery, I felt great sadness at being separated from this amazing boy. "Don't worry," he told me. "We'll be together again!" I had no idea what he was talking about, but he touched my lips to forestall any further comment. Kissing me goodbye, he skipped out.

In due course the same driver delivered me back to my apartment with an appointment for post-op in a week.

The Doctor was right in his prediction; in a day or two my knee felt fine and I was completely mobile. In fact, I felt better all over than I had for some years. It was almost as if I were much younger again. And, more mysteriously, I began to have erections, something I had not experienced since a prostatectomy some years before. The only negative was that I thought about Paulie constantly, counting the seconds until I would see him again.

The post-op finally arrived and I was welcomed into the office by 3; guess 3; Paulie. "I've missed you." I told him.

"I've missed you, too," he replied as he planted a kiss on my forehead.

The Doctor arrived and examined the knee. He was evidently pleased as he smiled and asked, "How do you feel?"

"Great! Better than I have for years."

He gave me a sort of knowing smile. "I'm glad everything is working out" The only thing that wasn't working out was that I would no longer have an excuse to see Paulie. He seemed to sense this.

"I hope you won't mind, but I took the liberty of doing some research on you. I do that with all my new patients."

Where was this going? Something was not quite as it seemed, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"I know that you are a widower, that you have no children and that you recently retired after a very successful career as a teacher. According to your friends, you are looking for a new challenge"

"Well, yes."

"I'm about to offer you that challenge."

Something was happening here. I could feel a thread of emotion in the background, hopeful it was.

"Paulie's mother and I must go away for an extended period and he cannot go with us. We would like you to be his guardian while we are gone."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "But you hardly know me! Besides I'm sixty-five years old. How could you have possibly chosen me?"

"Elena and I did not choose you. Paulie did.!"

There have not been many times in my life when I was speechless. This was one of them! I started to stammer, but the Doctor held up his hand.

"Paulie is an empath, unusual, but not unheard of in our culture. He reads the emotions of others. Not their thoughts, mind you; their feelings. And he can project his feelings on others. He read over your information before your first visit and we agreed you were a possibility. So, he arranged a little test for you. The fight you saw was staged; Antonio is the son of Armando, my ranch foreman, and they are, in reality, quite good friends. He wanted to see if you would respond to his distress. You passed swimmingly, and he began to court you, much like a lover. He now knows that you love him unconditionally and he trusts you completely. He wants very much to share his life with you, when his mother and I are no longer here."

Incredible as it seemed, this man was offering his son to me, an exiting and truly beautiful boy and I was to be his guide and mentor! "But what about my age? Surely you need someone younger to be with him."

The Doctor chuckled. "Well, I have a little confession to make. While you were under having your knee fixed, I fixed several other things as well. Except for your knee problem, you were in very good health when I first saw you. The surgery, coupled with the medicine you have been taking has the potential to not only slow aging, but even to reverse it somewhat. I would say you are about the equivalent of forty-five to fifty year of age."

It was almost impossible to believe this was happening!

"Before you make any decision, Elena and I would like you to visit us at our ranch south of here. You have heard of the Poloma Ranch?"

Indeed I had; Poloma was the premier ranch in all of western America, the one every other ranch tried to emulate. Immensely profitable, it occupied thousands of acres in La Quinta County, just south of us. Their horses and cattle were known and valued throughout the world. The owners were reputed to be a very private family, about whom little was known. I had just met the patriarch.

"I would be honored to accept your invitation," I managed to stammer.

A small whirlwind dashed into the office and clamped itself around my neck. "I just knew you would. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Can you come tomorrow?"

I nodded, glassy-eyed, and floated home to pack a few things. How had one small boy managed to so thoroughly bewitch me?

The next morning, my 'driver' arrived to transport me to the ranch. He introduced himself as Armando Rojas and he was the Doctor's ranch foreman.

Arriving at the ranch I was greeted by 3; surprise 3;Paulie. "I'm so glad you came. We're going to have lots of fun together." He was evidently the assigned greeter and quickly showed me where I would be staying, a very adequate room 3; surprise 3; next to his.

For the next several days, Paulie was my constant companion, showing me around the ranch and introducing me to the Doctor's staff. In addition to Armando, there was his wife Maria who ruled over the kitchens and produced gourmet meals to be enjoyed by all. I also got to meet that 'terrible bully' Antonio and found him to be a charming boy just on the verge of manhood. He was a bit sheepish for having participated in the 'fight' I had responded to. I assured him he was my friend, too. After all, without him I probably never would have met Paulie.

Many of the workers were from Mexico, here on legal work visas, but the work force actually came from all over. Everyone was friendly and industrious. They were obviously very proud to be part of this hugely successful venture.

Paloma Ranch was, in reality, a small city. The main house flanked a large corral; directly across from it was the main horse barn. A small two story office building took up a third side,. In addition to barns for cattle and hoses and other typical ranch buildings, there were a number of cottages for married workers with families, several bunkhouses for those without families, a small medical facility, and two very large and attractive dining halls. There was even a school, chartered by the county, with facilities for grades K-12; any worker's children could attend and was provided books and other materials free of charge. Paulie took particular care to show me his classroom.

Quite an operation! And Paulie was determined to show me ALL of it. How could I possibly keep up with this small dynamo?

The third night there, Paulie asked to sleep in my bed. Despite my surprise, I consented. Having that warm body next to mine was absolutely the best feeling I could ever imagine. There was no sex; we just cuddled and hugged and fell asleep in each other's arms.

Next evening, the Doctor asked me to sit with him a bit before bedtime. "You have undoubtedly discovered that Paulie is a very affectionate child," he began. " I don't mean to push your decision, but there are some things you need to know before you decide. I hope you will decide positively, but it is solely your decision."

"You have probably guessed that we are not originally from this place, and that is true. What you likely will have a bit of trouble understanding is the we are not from your TIME." That got my attention.

"Paulie's mother and I are from a time in your future, about 2500 years from now. We have learned how to travel back in time and were sent here to research the origins of several problems that we still have in our time. We cannot, however, travel forward to a time that has never been experienced. Those who have tried die a very painful death"

"Elena and I are not married, just good friends and partners in research. We were warned not to become too close, but we were foolish and the result was Paulie. Our research is almost complete and we must soon return to our own time. We love Paulie very much, but since he was born in this time, he cannot go with us."

"Paulie knows this, hence his interest in finding someone who he loves and trusts enough to want to spend the rest of his life with. You perceive him as about 9 or 10 years old. While he physically the equivalent of a 9 year old, and emotionally, too, actually he is almost 15. He won't enter puberty for several years. Our children age and mature at a much slower rate than children in this time. So do adults, for that matter. We may not look so, but both Elena and I are over 80."

"You need to know that, once we leave, Paulie is yours for life. We would like you to be more than a guardian. We would like you to adopt him and make him your son. The drugs you have been taking, by the way, will cause you to age at the same rate as he does. I know this all comes as a shock to you, but we had to make sure you are the one. So far as we are concerned, you are the one to become his new father." He chuckled. "Paulie was sure the first day he met you."

"Something else that may not have occurred to you is that you will become the owner of Paloma Ranch. It is our hope that you will be able to pass it on to Paulie when he is ready.

That this all was a shock was surely one of the great understatements in all of history. I would be accepting a lifetime assignment. With a boy who plucked my heartstrings, to be sure. But was I capable? While I had grown to love Paulie with all my heart, could I be the kind of father he needed. Because he was 'different', he would need all the care and understanding someone could give him. Could I be that someone? It certainly required careful thought.

Paulie surely sensed my preoccupation for the next several days. He wisely refrained from commenting on it. He just continued to be his refreshing, loving, exciting self.

Two days later, I met with the Doctor and Elena and gave them my decision. "Oh, excellent!" said Elena, tears running down her face. "We are so happy for Paulie and you, too." The Doctor just smiled, he had known all along what my decision would be.

I gave a very contented sigh, "I'd like to be the one to tell Paulie in my own time and place, if I may."

"You may indeed. Good luck if you can keep it from him!"

Armando had been giving me a quick course in riding, and my equestrian skills had improved quite a bit (from ground zero, I might add), so that I finally felt confident enough to reward Paulie with the overnight pack trip he had been begging for. Besides, I wanted it to be a special moment when I told him of my decision.

We rode out about mid afternoon, with supplies for a two-day stay. Since Paulie knew the ranch better than I, he led and we soon were in the foothills of the mountains, which bordered the ranch on the west. He chose his way carefully and we soon topped a low ridge and descended into a small valley, complete with lake, a grove of trees and a rushing stream. I had never seen a more beautiful spot in all my travels in the West.

"How's this?" he asked. "Father and I have camped here often."

"It's perfect! Thank you for sharing it with me."

Paulie unsaddled and took care of the horses, while I set up our pop-tent and built a fire ring. Both of us scouted for wood and we soon had a nice fire going. Supper was 3; hot dogs, what else? After he filled himself with tube steak, I introduced Paulie to smores. When we both had had enough, I wiped some of the chocolate off his face and settled him in my lap.

"Paulie, I have something very important to tell you." That got his attention. "I'm not going to be your guardian." Instantly he sprang up with anguish on his face as he tried bravely to blink back tears. "Wait! Wait! Instead, I'm going to adopt you and become your father." Instant joy. He threw himself into my arms and kissed me over and over with tears of joy running down his cheeks. "Oh thank you thank you, thank you!"

"That is," I replied, "If you want it." He emitted a squeal followed by another orgy of hugs and kisses. He wanted it.

After that he sat in my arms and we watched the sunset, the full moon rise and the fire slowly dying. Both of us were in that deep haze of our love. At last he fell asleep and I carried him into the tent and slipped him into his sleeping bag, beside mine.

The next day was a blur. We climbed, hiked, ate and hugged. He even coaxed me into the lake, up to my knees before I turned numb and staggered back to the small beach. "He must not have any feeling at all!" I groused and contented myself watching him swim like a fish in the frigid water. I have never seen (or felt) a happier boy in all my life. More hot dogs and smores for supper 3; Paulie had planned the menu, but I certainly didn't care. We retired very early, as tomorrow would be a busy day. Paulie was already in his sleeping bag when I crawled into mine. He had been pretty quiet since supper, which I chalked up to exhaustion.

Wrong! Shortly after I dozed off, I felt a small hand shaking me. "Please Dan, I'm cold! Can I come in with you?" It was pitch black in the tent, but I could feel his breath on my face and heard his teeth chattering.

"OK!" I opened my bag and he slid in. All I could feel was naked skin. He settled back against me and I wrapped my arms and legs around him. "No wonder you're cold," I chided him, "You don't have any clothes on."

"I do too! Here!" and he grabbed my hand a placed it on his skimpy briefs. "See!" I was struggling! Here I was with ninety pounds [40 kg] of nearly naked boy lying beside me. Would my lust (which I couldn't hide from him) drive him away or was this a new and more intense phase of our love?

"Rub me please. I like it when you do that." He took my hand and placed it on his bare chest. It felt marvelous. I pulled him over on his back on top of me so I could use both hands. I rubbed his little nipples and they hardened instantly. He took my right hand, moved it down to his briefs and placed it on his small package. I kneaded it and he purred like a kitten.

"Shall I take them off?" He didn't wait for my answer and they were soon at the bottom of the bag, and he returned my hand to his special spot. I wrapped my legs around his and gently drew them apart. He was rock hard and, in a stupor, I played with his boy-sized penis and rolled his balls around in their sack. I was rock hard, too, and beyond caring whether he felt it poking him.

Turning over he asked, "Do you like doing this?"

"Oh, Paulie, I've wanted to do this ever since I met you! But I as afraid I might frighten you and we would no longer be special friends."

"I know," he replied. "I could feel it, but I didn't know how to tell you. I was afraid you might be angry. Tonight, I just decided to do it. I know you like it, 'cause you're hard, too. May I take your PJ's off so we can both be naked?" My PJ's were soon at the bottom of the bag as well.

We lay on our sides facing each other, and stroked and loved.

After a while, I felt him slide down in the bag, and, moments later, his hot mouth was wrapped around my rampant prick. "Paulie, are you sure you want to do this?"

"Oh yes. Just relax and enjoy. You can do me later if you want." With his tongue and lips he brought me to the brink time and again and let me subside. His expertise was amazing. Of course, it helps if you can read your lover's feelings.

Finally, "Paulie, I will loose my mind if you don't bring me off!" And he did!

It was my turn! Slipping his legs over my shoulders, I engulfed his boyhood and went to work. A squeal and a shudder later, I held him as he came down from a very intense dry orgasm.

"That was super!" he gasped. And we lay together and just held each other.

"Where did you learn to do that?"

He giggled. "Antonio! We used to fool around often when he was younger, but now, he likes girls. No matter any more, now I have you. How is it that you didn't squirt, like he does?"

"Do you know what your prostate is?"

"Yeah, it's where your sex stuff is made."

"I had a disease in mine and it had to be removed. That's one thing your father couldn't fix. So, I have dry orgasms now, but they feel just as good.

"Great! Then we can continue to have fun!" Could I possibly keep this miniature male stud satisfied? I didn't know for sure, but I was certainly going to try. We fell asleep locked in each other's arms.

Late the next afternoon we rode back into the corral, each of us very, very happy. At dinner that night, Paulie filled his parents in with tales of our camping trip 3; including the fact that we had made love, much to my embarrassment and concern. I started to stammer. "Calm down!" his father whispered to me, "we'll talk about it after supper." The rest of the meal was pure hell! I had visions of being thrown off the ranch, handed over to the police and loosing my boy forever. By the time Paulie was excused, I was a wreck.

The Doctor reached over and placed his hand on my arm. "Please, Daniel, do not be afraid. What Paulie did was perfectly all right 3; he is a very loving boy. You responded to his need and we are very pleased you did."

"Daniel," said Elena, "we have known from a very young age that Paulie is completely male oriented. You are kind and gentle with him. We couldn't ask for a better person to become both his father and his lover. We not only approve of what you did, but we hope it will continue for many years after we are gone. We know you love him and he certainly demonstrated how much he loves you and we are very happy."

"So enjoy your boy," added his father, "you both deserve it." I felt as if I had been snatched from death!

"Thank you Elena and you too Roderick. I hope I will always be worthy of your son's love and your respect."

That evening he came to my room as usual. "You know, you almost caused me to have a heart attack!" I shouted.

Tears running down his cheeks, he looked sorrowfully down at the floor. "I know and I am very, very sorry. I just didn't think. Will you forgive me?" How could I not? I gathered him into my arms and kissed away his tears.

He stood in front of me and raised his arms to let me pull his top over his head. "Please undress me," he pleaded. And I did so, savoring every moment until he stood before me in all his naked glory. He then returned the favor and we climbed into bed, ready to share each other's bodies before sleep. That has been our nightly ritual ever since.

The time for Roderick and Elena's departure drew inexorably closer, although the Doctor was necessarily vague as to the exact date. The next few weeks were very busy as I moved to the ranch permanently and tried to master all the details of managing this very successful operation that I was soon to be heir to. Armando was quite competent to handle the day-to-day affairs 3; he was, in fact, a godsend 3; managing all the employees, and seeing to the needs of their families. But there were a lot of business decisions I would soon be expected to make; and, in time, I would be expected to prepare Paulie to take over, once he reached his majority.

Paulie wisely let me concentrate on my 'education', busying himself with other pursuits during the day. Bedtime, however, was our time together and we made the most of it. He was a real sexual athlete and often left me quite breathless following our lovemaking.

Armando continued to work on my horsemanship and soon had me riding well. Under his tutelage, I became a fair marksman with both rifle and pistol, too. He insisted also that I learn to handle a bullwhip; I found this puzzling, as I had never observed one in use around the ranch. I would soon find out why.

At dinner one evening the Doctor announced, "There is one more test you must both pass before the adoption can go forward. The test serves to make unbreakable the bonds between father and son. Tomorrow will be the day of testing." I really didn't think the bonds between us needed to be further tested and had not the slightest clue as to the nature of this test, but I noticed with alarm that Paulie had turned white as a sheet. Clearly he knew something I did not and it scared the shit out of him.

That evening he was nervous and distressed, but refused to tell me what the test was and why it frightened him so. In tears he beseeched me, "Please promise me you will be brave, tomorrow, no matter what happens! It will be a very difficult time and I will need all your love to come thru it!"

"Paulie, I would willingly die for you and will always do my very best for you," I assured him. My words were certainly scant comfort for either of us. We did not make love but simply hugged each other during a restless night. When I awoke the next morning, he was gone, a complete departure for our usual wake-up hugs and kisses.

Breakfast was tense; Paulie had already eaten and gone somewhere; his father was solemn and his mother was absent. After we were finished, Roderick instructed me to change into workout shorts and wait for him in the basement family room. Arriving, he went to a panel in the wall and slid it back, revealing a room I had never seen before. Entering, he bade me follow.

In the center of the room, stood Paulie, completely naked, his hands secured above his head to a bar, which could be raised or lowered by an attached winch. He looked so small and vulnerable; I thought my heart would break.

"It is a custom of our people," Roderick began, "that before an adoption can take place, a boy must demonstrate his willingness to accept punishment, even severe punishment, from his father to be. The father must show his willingness to punish the boy if required. The punishment must be severe." He handed me the bullwhip and raised the bar so that Paulie hung by his arms with his feet well off the floor. "He is to receive twenty lashes from you."

'Now, wait a minute! I won't do that to him!"

"You must! It is required."

"But the pain 3;."

"Paulie knows it will be painful, although he can not even begin to imagine how much pain he will feel. Because of his gift, you will feel his pain too. Do not think to pull your strokes, he must be bloodied. Please begin at once!"

I was on the verge of refusing again when Paulie spoke, "Please, Dan, be brave for me. Do what my father asks! Do it for me!"

I was caught! Hefting the bullwhip, I walked behind him and prepared myself.

I laid the first stroke across his ass. The crack of the lash on his skin was followed an instant later by his scream, which cut the silence like a knife. At the same time, a tsunami of feeling engulfed me 3; part pain, part anger and part fear 3; which almost drove me to my knees. Blood was already forming in the cut. But, I knew I had to go on. By the fourth stroke, Paulie's anger had seized me and I was driving the whip with all my force. Blood was running down his back and legs and pooling on the floor under him. His screams had turned to hysterical sobs.

But, by the twelfth stroke another emotion began to assert itself. Calmness came over me. I could do this thing, terrible as it was. I finished the last eight strokes awash in his 3; LOVE!

Throwing down the whip I started to go to him. "Wait!" his father counseled. "Let him come to you." He lowered the bar and released the boy who promptly collapsed into the puddle of his blood. "Let him come to you."

I fell on my knees, holding out my arms imploring him. Slowly, painfully he crawled toward me and, with the very last of his energy, hurled himself into my arms. I held him, my arms and chest slick with his blood. "Thank you for being brave for us both," he whispered and passed out. I gently picked him up and left that dark chamber, handing him over to his mother who was waiting with tears in her eyes.

I confronted Roderick. "That was barbaric!" I screamed at him. It was all I could do to control myself.

"Yes," he said quietly, "but it was necessary. You will come to understand why in the days ahead. Elena and I love him very much, just as you do and we are proud of you both for your bravery. We are certain you will be the best possible father he could have, once we are gone." I was in no condition to stay with him longer. I stormed up the stairs and into my room."

I didn't see Paulie for the next two days. In fact, he refused to let me see him. Elena told me that he hurt too much to wear clothes, and he didn't want me to see him in that condition, so he simply lay on his bed and let her miracle potions do their stuff.

Finally, on the third night he limped slowly into my bedroom. "Hi," he said. "Hi, yourself," I replied. He raised his arms to signal the start of our bedtime ritual. I undressed him very carefully; his wounds had begun to heal remarkably well but still were quite painful. I gently helped him to lie down on his tummy on top of me. "Thank you for being brave and feeling my pain. I love you more than ever because you did it for us," he breathed.

I looked up at those trusting eyes and bawled like a child. "How can you love me after what I did to you?"

He reached up and touched my lips. "When the first stroke hit me, I felt I was going to die. The pain was so much worse than I have ever imagined. I was very, very afraid, and, yes, very angry with you. My anger took hold of me and I lashed out mentally against you. But, then, something, maybe the pain, reminded me you were suffering as much as I was and you were doing this for both of us. After that, I could no longer feel the pain, the anger went away and I was no longer afraid."

"Paulie, if you will still have me as your father, I swear, by my very being that I will never, never, ever punish you in that way again. There is nothing you could ever do that would cause me to do that again. Can you ever forgive me?

"Dan, I love you very much and want you as my father. I know that you love me, too. And that is enough!"

We cried ourselves to sleep.

Chapter 2

Over the next several days, we tried to keep as normal a schedule as possible, while Paulie's wounds finished healing. Using the lotion that Elena had given me, I gently rubbed it on his back and legs each night as we went to bed. Those nights he slept on his tummy on top of me and we did not make love.

During that time, I considered the Doctor's statement that "the experience would strengthen the bonds between Paulie and me." I had to reluctantly agree that he was right: Paulie and I had come thru hell together, with our love intact and ever more stronger. I still felt terrible at causing him so much pain, but he kept reminding me that I done it for US and the feeling gradually faded. Thanks to Elena's lotion, Paulie's wounds healed without a trace 3; remarkable! We gradually resumed our bedtime games.

Several days later, Roderick announced at breakfast that our attorney would be coming that afternoon to finalize both Paulie's adoption and the transfer of the assets of Poloma Ranch to me.

John Howard had been the Doctor's attorney ever since they had arrived here and had been instrumental in helping to establish Poloma Ranch. With him was Sheriff Joe Harsh who would act as witness and take our depositions for the court. Joe had also been a good friend to Poloma, enforcing our desire for privacy and generally looking out for our best interests. He, in turn, did not have to worry about a considerable chunk of La Quinta County. They were the only two 'outsiders' who knew the true story of Paulie's origins and they guarded that secret well.

We gathered in the living room. "Well, this is quite a momentous day," John began. "We'll have papers to be signed and witnessed, but, before we do that, Joe will take some sworn statements from you. In that task, he acts as an officer of the court. Joe."

"Thanks, John. Elena and Roderick, will you please stand over here, and Paulie you stand with them. Dan, please stand opposite them here. Good!"

"Elena Jusett and Roderick Selden, you have declared that will soon be unable to care for your son, Paulie Selden, and wish for him to be adopted by Daniel Connor. In doing this you voluntarily give up all personal and legal ties to Paulie and he will no longer be your son. Are you prepared to do this?"

"Yes we are," they both answered.

"Daniel Conner, you have petioned to adopt Paulie Selden as your legal son and heir. Will you care for him, nurture and protect him from all harm, and endeavor, to the best of your ability to raise him as though he was your natural born son?"

"Yes, I will!"

"Paulie Selden, do you agree to leave your birth parents, Elena and Roderick, and become the son and heir of Daniel Connor?"

"Oh, yes!"

"By the authority of the Fourth Circuit Court of this state, I declare the adoption approved. Well, Dan, you have a son!" Paulie turned and hugged Elena, solemnly shook his father's hand, and took his place at my side. "I love you Paulie Connor" "And I love you, too, Dad!" There wasn't a dry eye in the house.

The paperwork was duly signed and recorded, and then we all enjoyed one of Maria's gourmet dinners. That evening our bedtime games took on a whole fresh meaning. I had a son and he was the most beautiful, exciting and loveable creature on this earth.

With the legal niceties out of the way, I was certain Roderick and Elena's departure was imminent. So it was no surprise the next day when Roderick told us at breakfast that this would be our last day together. He made sure to thank Armando and Marie for their many years of fine service and to thank Antonio for being a 'big brother' to Paulie. I can't even remember what we ate that evening; it was a very bittersweet occasion. I excused myself early so Paulie could say his goodbyes.

Back in my room, I pondered the enormity of what I was about to undertake. In truth, I was terrified, but believed with all my being, that, with Paulie at my side, we would make it. It was late when Paulie slid in beside me. I pulled his naked body on top of me, and rubbed his neck and back, as he cried softly on my chest. The next morning they were gone!

On the breakfast counter, was a letter from Roderick addressed to both of us.

Dear Daniel and Paulie,

By the time you read this we will be back in our own time. Know that Elena and I will always miss you and love you both forever.

The safe in my office is now keyed to both of your thumbprints. You are the only ones able to open it. Please do so at once and review its contents, as they are important for your future.

Daniel, know that we believe you are absolutely the finest choice we could have made to be Paulie's father and you have our undying trust.

Paulie, our love for you will continue across the eons. Take care of Daniel and love him to death.

With all our trust for your future,

Roderick and Elena
New Denver
September 2, 4803

Among the papers in it, were two envelopes, one addressed to each of us. Paulie's contained a single DVD, which we immediately played.

What a treasure! There were scenes of his parents from the future and of Paulie's birth and boyhood, up 'til the time I arrived on the scene. He would always have this link to them. Paulie cried thru most of it and we agreed to put it away and bring it out again when the pain of their leaving was not quite so sharp.

In my envelope, there was a document explaining the operation of their transporter, located in an old springhouse nearby. While we could, not go to their time, it had been reset so that we could use it if we ever had to flee the Ranch in an emergency. It would deposit us somewhere on earth; where was not specified but there would be someone there to shelter us. It could only be used once, after which it would self-destruct. At the time, I thought we would never have a use for it, but it was comforting to know it was there.

There were Paulie's adoption papers, the deeds to the Ranch and several other legal papers, which I would review with John Howard at a later time.

There were also two small electronic devices, each about the size of a matchbox: one marked 'For Paulie' and the other marked 'For Dan.' According to the instructions, we each had had a chip implanted somewhere in our bodies and the devices would track the signal they generated if we ever became separated. The signal could not be detected by other devices, had a range of about 200 miles [300 km], and could only be detected by these receivers. We spent an hour or so testing them inside and outside, in valleys and hills on the property. Paulie even rode to 'our valley', and found them to be exactly as described.

Fortunately for Paulie, school began the following day, so that gave him something to focus on, to help him over his loss. Evenings were another matter, however. He cried himself to sleep for the next four nights. Finally, on the fifth night, he appeared dry-eyed at my bedside, angry with himself. "I've got to stop being such a baby!" he declared. "They are gone and I must face it. It's not fair to you!"

"Paulie, you have lost two people you love very much and it is quite OK for you to grieve. In fact, it wouldn't be healthy if you didn't grieve. You know that I grieve with you! They were fine, noble people and I, too, will miss them forever." That seemed to lift a burden from his shoulders and he came to me enthusiastically and tenderly. We were thru this crisis.

Paulie loved school. He thoroughly enjoyed being with the other kids. He and Antonio were the oldest children on the ranch and were 'big brothers' to all of them. The littlest kids particularly adored Paulie. I watched him with them; he was kind and patient and always had time to share a new treasure or soothe a scraped knee. He would make a fine parent some day.

He was well ahead of everyone in his studies. Each student proceeded at his own pace, so this was not a problem. Although nominally a 6th grader, he was already taking some college-level studies, much to the despair of his teachers. But he was cheerful and enthusiastic, always ready to lend a hand, just the kind of student a teacher prays for. While he was an academic whiz, learning to control and channel his awesome 'gifts' was another matter.

Paulie had two different, but related 'gifts'. As an empath, he could accurately read the emotions of others and broadcast his own emotions to others, so they felt what he felt. By the time I adopted him, he could channel very well, both sending and receiving to a specific person or a group of people.

His second gift was a huge problem. He was much, much stronger than a boy of his size and build. When he was angry or frightened, that strength could increase exponentially. The problem lay with him trying not to let his emotions run riot. He had an acute sense of justice and fair play and tended to respond accordingly. Although he was sometimes angry with me, he never sought to use his power against me. But, a young boy who could throw large boulders across a four-lane highway or bring down a charging buffalo with one hand was bound to be noticed. Notice would bring uncomfortable questions about him and his origins. Most of the time, he was OK, but on those few occasions when he 'lost it', he was spectacular!

Once, when we were at a local shopping mall, we came upon a man who was severely beating a very small girl. I immediately sensed Paulie starting to build a head of steam. I grabbed him around the waist. "No Paulie! You can't intervene physically! Use your other gift!" He thought for a moment, nodded and 3;.. The man suddenly stopped in mid swing. He fell to his knees, burst into tears, hugged the child and sobbed, "Oh Julie! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He picked the child up, cradled her in his arms and walked slowly away. He had just had a powerful lesson in anger management.

I turned to my son. "Paulie, that was magnificent!" He grinned and we went on about our shopping. There would be times, of course, when that reserve of strength could prove life saving and he needed to carefully dole it out.

Another time, we were hiking in the National Forest and came upon two obviously drunken men who were throwing rocks at a doe and her new fawn. With a cry, Paulie grabbed one of the men's arm just as he was about to throw another rock. They both turned on him angrily 3; then, just melted. He released the man's arm and them both stumbled away shamefaced. I just shook my head and marveled.

Paulie always had free reign on his computer and soon had a rather eclectic collection of web sites he visited. Most of them he would not have wanted his mother to know about. They broadened his education, however.

One night, as we were getting ready for bed, he asked me, "Is bondage fun?"

"Where did you hear about that?" I asked.

"On the web. I saw a man who was tying up a girl and another man tying up some kids. The kids were naked and laughing and said they were having fun. Why do they do that?"

I explained that, for some people, being tied up is a big turn on. I fired up the computer and showed him some other pictures and illustrations, watching him squirm, obviously getting an erection.

"Can we try it? Will you tie me up?"

"Tell you what; you think about it and, if you still want to try it, you tell me tomorrow."

"OK"

About mid-afternoon the next day, he reminded me, so I set about making preparations.

That night, I told him to wear a tee shirt and under shorts and to come in when he was ready. When he appeared, I led him over to the bed, which I had prepared, with straps on the four corners. Sitting down on the bed, I turned him so his back was to me and pulled a large handkerchief out of my pocket, folding it into a strip and tying it around his eyes.

"Why do I have to wear a blindfold?" he asked.

"Because not being able to see can make a person feel even more helpless, and the only sense you have is feeling what's happening. OK?"

"Yeah, I guess so," said Paulie a bit nervously. "As long as it won't hurt."

"Hurting you is the only thing I won't do," I said. "I'm going to make you feel sexier than you've ever felt before." I raised his arms and pulled off his shirt. Placing my hands on his shoulders I massaged him gently, asking if everything was all right so far. He asked what was next and I got up and pushed him to the bed, laying him down on his back.

I took his left wrist in my hand and placed it in the noose that was on the bedpost, tightening it so he could only move his arm a few inches but not enough to cause any pain, and did the same with his other arm. I couldn't help running my hand over his naked chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath my fingers, rubbing over his little nipples and making them stiffen. He squirmed a little and tested his bonds, but all he could move were his legs. I rubbed along his smooth legs and down to his feet, which I grabbed, one in each hand, and gently pulled until he was stretched out as much as could comfortably be. Then I tied each ankle to the footboard, all the while admiring his near naked form, so soft and vulnerable. His penis was already stiff, making an obvious tent under his briefs.

"Aren't you gonna strip me?" he asked.

"Not just yet, but I will, don't worry. I'm going to give you a massage." I knelt on the floor beside the bed and started running my hands over his chest, playing with his nipples again and making them harden, then going lightly over his underarms, making his arms twitch against the restraints. I continued rubbing and massaging everywhere; up and down his arms, his legs, over his stomach down to his waistband. He would shiver a little each time I hit a sensitive place, saying "Oooh, that tickles!" his limbs jerking involuntarily against the straps. His not-so-little boner seemed to be trying to poke a hole through his underpants and I decided it was time for them to come off.

Scissors in hand, I pulled his underwear up with one hand, neatly cutting one side and then the other, pulling them off his body and exposing his stiff boy-cock and smooth balls. I continued to rub my now naked boy, going down his chest, over his ribs, feeling his breath quicken as his excitement grew. I tickled inside his belly button, then over his soft under-belly and his hipbones, hearing him groan as I softly rubbed around his rigid cock without actually touching it. His naked, spread-eagled body pulled against its restraints as I began kissing and stroking him everywhere except his penis.

I went to his head and placed my hands on either side, running them down the entire length of his stretched out body, feeling it arch to meet them as he thrust his penis up, silently striving for contact. I repeated this action, driving the boy into spasms of sensation, watching his arms and legs jerk and pull against their bonds.

Finally, I placed my finger on the tip of the head of his penis and slowly stroked down the hard shaft to his sack, feeling it give a single, mighty throb as his whole body jerked and a loud groan escaped his lips. I started playing with it, pushing it down against his belly and letting it spring back up again, massaging his nuts in their tight sac, rubbing the innermost part of his thighs, fingering his crack, until he was going wild, his young body begging for sexual release.

Slowly I lowered my lips to his cock and started licking him, taking his sac in my mouth and rolling his balls on my tongue, and then tonguing down into his crack, feeling his hole spasm with pleasure as he actually tried to spread his legs farther apart. Then I took his rod all the way into my mouth, licking the mushroom head with its tiny cleft, feeling it throb each time I went slowly down on it, feeling Paulie's body do its best against its ties to push it in farther and I knew it would only take a few strokes before he came. He was coiled up like a spring, ready to climax any second when I suddenly stopped, taking my mouth off him.

"Ohhh, PLEASE don't quit now!!" he cried.

I grinned as my hands went over his hard-on occasionally, but not stroking it. After a few minutes of this I took his organ in my mouth again. He immediately began pumping his hips up and down as much as his stretched out body would allow, pistoning his penis in and out of my mouth. When his straining groans reached a crescendo I again stopped, enjoying the sob that came from him as once more he was denied an orgasm.

Once again I took him in my mouth, Paulie not daring to pump this time for fear of my stopping. I went slowly down his shaft, feeling it throb even harder against my tongue, intending to finish him off this time. After three or four strokes he was close to climaxing again. I inserted a finger in his crack, pushing it up his little hole and twisting it in and out as he cried out at this new attack, his anus contracting involuntarily as I rubbed the tiny kernel within.

Suddenly I felt the boy surge up beneath me, his penis swelling in my mouth as his dry orgasm began ripping through him, tearing a high-pitched yell from his throat as he spasmed and convulsed as much as his bonds would allow. It seemed to go on and on and I sat back in wonder watching him until finally it tapered off to an end, His body slowly relaxing, and his breath returning to normal.

I removed his blindfold. His expression told me everything. "WOW!" he exclaimed, "That was the greatest thing I've ever felt! It was great! Wonderful! Gigantic!"

"I'm glad you liked it," I said, untying him.

"Can we do it again?"

"Whenever you want to?" And another bedtime activity was added to our repertoire.

One evening, as we lay in the glow of the aftermath of our love making, he lay his head on my chest and asked, "What part of me do you like best?"

"I don't like any of you. I love all of you. Your little pug nose with its freckles, your luscious lips and talented tongue, your nipples that get hard when I lick them, your little innie-bellybutton, your delicious boy parts that give us both so much fun, your beautiful bubble butt, your lovely long legs, your little toes that curl-up when you're having an orgasm. But most of all, I love who you are now 3; a wonderful, beautiful, exciting, sexy young boy 3; and the man you will become in the future. You have made my life whole and I rejoice I will be with you forever in this world and the next!"

"Wow!" he breathed, as we rolled into each other's arms and fell asleep.

Every so often that summer, Paulie and I would retire to 'our special valley' (as Paulie referred to it) for an afternoon of relaxation away from the rest of the ranch. It was secluded; no one was likely to intrude and we could enjoy each other fully. He would strip and then pose for my camera. Like most young boys, he was not a bit shy about showing off his lovely, naked body. He was sensuous; he was erotic; he was Paulie; and he loved every minute. Afterward, he would lie on his back on top of me and I would stroke him until we were ready for more serious sex.

One time we did a bondage set. I set up the video recorder and just let it run, recording both the scenes as I restrained him and his giggles, shrieks and moans. I staked him out spread eagle, tied him in several different tight hogties, hanging upside-down between two trees and various other poses which he invented as we went along. He was very creative and always wanted to try new ones. He was rock hard throughout and I teased his nipples and prick unmercifully, being very careful not to let him cum.

In one scene, while he was staked out, I tickled him until he peed himself. The camera faithfully caught his shrieks and screams as I worked on his very sensitive feet and then his sputtering as the stream from his water works splashed down all over his face and chest. Before he could recover from that, I rinsed him off with a bucket of frigid water from the lake, to the tune of still more shrieks.

In the final scene that day, he was bent over a low tree limb backwards with his hands and feet tied together and his little flagpole standing straight up. Several times I teased him to the brink and withdrew, leaving him screaming for release. Finally, it was just too much! I took his prick in my mouth and brought him off. His dry orgasm seemed like it lasted forever. Afterward, he was almost too exhausted to dress and ride back to the ranch, but assured me it was the most fun we had all summer.

I could probably have sold those pictures for thousands of dollar on E-bay; but, of course, I would never have even considered it. They were ours, intensely private and are kept in a secure place that only Paulie and I know. It's fun to pull them out every so often and relive those halcyon days.

Early on I had discovered that Paulie, despite having read widely and having all the power of the Internet at his disposal, had led a rather sheltered life. Except for infrequent trips to the city with his father, he had never been off the ranch. It was time for him to visit some of the places he had read about but never seen. I wanted him to experience the world outside Poloma, a world that he must learn to live in.

Over the next few summers, we embarked on an extensive travel program: Yellowstone, Grand Canyon, Yosemite, The Bay Area and Big Sur in the west; New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Shenandoah, Great Smokies in the east. We usually traveled by van so he could experience the diversity of our country first hand. Like everything else, he digested it all with gusto. One of the hike leaders at Yellowstone caught it best, "Does he ever stop asking questions?"

"Only when he's asleep and, sometimes not even then," I replied.

The first summer, we took in Grand Canyon from the South Rim. Like all first time visitors, he was completely awed by the spectacle. We must have thousands of photos taken from every spot along the rim trail. We 'roughed it' in one of the campgrounds, with our famous (or infamous) pop tent and two sleeping bags, although one was never used.

The next campsite was occupied by a group of Boy Scouts who were there to do a rim-to-rim hike. Paulie heard them discussing their plans and immediately wanted to do a similar hike. While I had no doubt he could bring it off, there are limits to my capabilities, the Doctor's potions notwithstanding. But he wasn't to be dissuaded, so he set out to see if he could go with the Scouts.

Their Leader, John Garvey, was skeptical at first, but my boy turned on his legendary charm, and before the evening was out, he was set to go. John and I talked; I assured him Paulie had his own gear and would be no problem, despite appearing to be several years younger than the others. (I needed convincing, too.) If it did turn out it wasn't working, I would have him brought back up by mule from the Phantom Ranch area, where they were due to overnight. The scouts, at ages 12 and 13, were not keen on having a 'little kid' tagging along with them, but I was confident that would change once they were on the trail.

So with some mild concern ... but trying not to show it ... I bade them all farewell and watched them disappear the next morning around the first bend of the Bright Angel Trail, Paulie manfully bringing up the rear. That night I realized just how much our sleeping together was a part of my life; I kept reaching for a naked little body that wasn't there.

Late afternoon the next day, I met them at the North Kaibab trailhead on North Rim. Who was the first boy to emerge from the cut ... Paulie, of course? He stopped and each Scout gave him a high-five as he passed. Last was John, who gave him both a high-five and a hug. He walked over to me, while the boys were celebrating their achievement. "That is one amazing boy, you have! All my guys want to be his big brother." I found out later that he had saved one of them from a nasty fall.

I smiled and thanked him for his generosity in making Paulie's Grand Canyon Adventure complete. He kept looking around for the vans, which were to transport them back to South Rim, a six-hour trip. They would not arrive back at their campsite until well after dark.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you. The vans were all tied up today, so I took the liberty of arranging some alternate transportation. Beside, I thought you might like to get back a little earlier. There are two helicopters standing by."

His eyes got big. I told him who we were, the owners of Poloma Ranch, and the flight was on us. Paulie and the boys were excited about the change in plans, a fitting cap to their two-day adventure. Chuckling, John asked, "Could I convince you to move to Phoenix so Paulie can be in our troop and you can be my assistant? No, I guess not; you've got a big operation to run, just where you are. Thank you, very much for what you have done, and for introducing us to Paulie."

An hour later, we were all back at our campsites. Each of the Scouts thanked us for the flight and John stopped to ask, "We're having a closing barbecue and campfire tomorrow night and we'd like you both to be our guests."

"We wouldn't miss it for anything. Thank you." I carried my half-sleeping son to our tent where I managed to get at least his outer clothes off before I slipped us both into my sleeping bag. He was out like a light. It was good to have him beside me again.

The next morning, I was awakened by a persistent boy who asked, "Why do I still have clothes on?"

"You were sound asleep, you silly boy. There is a limit to what I can do with an inert body."

"Well, that will never do!" he scolded. Jumping up, he stood before me with his arms raised. We had to start bedtime all over again. He was back in his familiar groove. We somehow missed breakfast that morning.

That evening we joined the Scouts for their gala. It was a great time and Paulie was thrilled. The high point of the night (and maybe his young life) came when the Scouts together presented him with their official troop neckerchief and his tenderfoot pin. Whether he lived in Phoenix or not he was one of them. The neckerchief still hangs in his room in a place of honor.

Before he could respond, I whispered something into his ear. He looked at me, excitement leaking from every pore. "You mean it?" I nodded. He turned back to the scouts. "I have had more fun these two days than I have ever had before. You guys have made me one of you 3; and" his voice broke a little," I'm trying not to cry about it." That got a round of laughter from everyone. "Anyway, I want to invite you all to visit us next summer for two weeks at Poloma Ranch." The scouts went wacko! John Garvey just shook his head and gave me a 'thumbs-up' sign.

That night, after we made delirious love and were just drifting off to sleep, Paulie whispered to me, "Thank you for inviting the Scouts."

"Thank you for being my Paulie," I replied

The Scouts did visit us the next summer. And Paulie was beside himself as the good host. He led them hiking, riding, rock-climbing, roping, and other activities too numerous to record. A highlight was a three-day camp out in our 'special valley' where Paulie slept in the infamous pop-tent with one of the other Scouts (I don't know. I never asked.)

On their last night with us, we held a special ox roast and campfire and invited the whole community. Ben Greywolf, my head wrangler, was a respected elder of the Cheyenne Tribe and he suggested we have a Naming Ceremony. The Scouts were the right age and he would include Paulie, even though he appeared a bit younger. I though it was a great idea. The boys had no idea what was happening to them, when he spirited them away after supper so his helpers could prepare them.

When it was time for the council, one of my hands, who was a full-blooded Comanche, rode into the council ring in full regalia and fired a flaming arrow into the tinder to light the fire, before galloping off into the last rays of the setting sun. I told everyone how we had met the Scouts the year before and how they had given Paulie a priceless experience. "It's time for us to repay that debt."

Ben took over, resplendent in his Medicine Man garb. He explained that the ceremony we were about to witness, marked the end of a boy's childhood and the beginning of his young manhood as a full member of the tribe. Each would be given a new Tribal Name, by which everyone would know him, and a Spirit Name, known only to the young man and the Great Spirit. (He had made it a point to speak to each of them at length, so as to choose names that would be appropriate, a choice of considerable importance.) He picked up a small tom-tom and began to beat it slowly.

The crowd hushed to silence as each boy entered the circle, barefoot and clad in only a breechcloth, his skin oiled to a glossy sheen. A single white stripe, signifying his status as a child, was painted diagonally on each boy's face.

One by one, Ben called them forth, announced the boy's new Tribal Name and whispered his Spirit Name to him. He then painted a black stripe beside the white one to signify the end of childhood and the beginning of his new life as a young man. Placing a single feather in band around his head, he turned each one around to receive the approval of the community. When they all had finished, he bowed to me and sat down. With the dancing flames reflecting off their nearly naked bodies, the boys 3; sorry, young men 3; presented a scene that was hauntingly beautiful. And very, very erotic!

I stood and addressed the community. "John, will you and the Scouts please join me here on my left? And Paulie, please stand on my right."

"As some of you probably know, ceremonies like the one we just witnessed are as old as civilization itself. Almost every culture on earth celebrates the end of childhood and the beginning of adulthood. In the Jewish tradition, it is called bar Mitzvah. Christian churches celebrate Confirmation. But the transition from child to adult doesn't necessarily happen instantly. These young men actually began theirs over a year ago, when they accepted a small boy into their midst and gave him an adventure he will never forget." Turning, I addressed the Scouts and their Leader. " Paulie began his recently, as he planned for your visit and then was host to you all. Thank you for what you did for him and for being our guests. We hope you will visit us again, perhaps some day with your sons and daughters. Don't be strangers!"

John Garvey then spoke. "Paulie and Dan, being part of your community here these past two weeks has been just indescribable. Having Paulie with us at Grand Canyon was a tremendous adventure for us all. Whether he knows it or not, ever since that time, he has had 12 big brothers and a surrogate stepfather. Now, I have one further request for you, Dan. Would you do me the signal honor of presenting Tim, my son, with his Eagle badge?"

I knew immediately, that was no small honor. Only one problem; where do you pin it on a nearly naked Scout? The night was warm and the new young men were in no hurry to dress and mingled with the crown to accept their congratulations.

Paulie's Tribal Name was a Cheyenne word which means 'He Who Heals.' How prophetic that would turn out to be. To this day, I do not know his Spirit Name; it is the only secret he has ever kept from me. I have never seen Paulie happier or more full of life than during those two weeks. He still maintains contact with almost all the Scouts, and many have returned to visit us.

On our first swing east, I decided we should visit my sister in Virginia. Carolyn was quite a bit younger than I and the death of her Army husband in Iraq had left her with twin boys, David and Jonathan, to raise alone. She and my late wife, Elizabeth, became quite close and Carolyn helped me get over my loss when Elizabeth passed away. Since that time, however, we had somehow drifted apart. It was time to heal that rift and introduce Paulie to an aunt and cousins he didn't know he had.

My sibling received us with delight. She immediately opened both arms and heart to Paulie. Her boys were now high-school age, but quickly took Paulie under their wings.

They introduced him to skateboarding. As in almost every thing he tried, Paulie did quite well, eliciting great praise from his cousins. But I could tell it would never be near the top of his list of fun-things-to-do. He was a child of the western plains, where that sport is mostly considered a form of adolescent insanity. No 'quarter pipes' or 'half pipes' would be needed at Paloma.

On our last afternoon, Carolyn and I finally found some private time. "Paulie's the son you and Elizabeth were never able to have, isn't he?"

"Yes. Yes he is," I confessed. "Elizabeth would have loved him as deeply as I do. In fact, I believe she looks down from wherever she is and loves him now."

"You know, my guys 3; men of the world, you know 3; rarely have any time for 'little kids', she confided, "but Paulie certainly has won them over."

"He has that effect on people," I confessed.

"Well, he certainly has been good for you! How ever did you find him?"

"Actually, he found me." And I told her Paulie's story 3; well, most of it 3; and how I came to adopt him. I'm not sure she believed everything I told her, but she was satisfied and pleased. If she sensed there was more than a father-son relationship between us, she never commented on it. The next day we left. I felt great at reestablishing this tie and Paulie was ecstatic over new family to love and cherish.

The days and months rolled around and suddenly three years had passed. The political situation in our country had become rather grim, but Poloma prospered. And Paulie and I both prospered with it.

Paulie had grown into a stunningly beautiful young teen just on the cusp of puberty. With his broad shoulders, full chest, slim hips, and absolutely flawless skin, he could have made a fortune as a model. With his boyish curves and sexy bubble-butt, he appeared to be about 12 years old, even though I knew he was almost 18. His package between his legs was developing nicely, too, although still hairless and he had yet to ejaculate; but that couldn't be more than a few months away. He knew he was attractive, a fact he teasingly reminded me almost every bedtime. He never lost his sense of sexual adventure: our lovemaking was as pure and fresh as it had been the first time.

Tony had matured into a very handsome young man. He had graduated from high school and become his father's apprentice. There was no doubt who would be the next foreman when his father was ready to retire.

As Paulie had observed, Tony liked girls, one girl in particular. She was Cassie, a classic Latin beauty with her dark hair and flashing dark eyes. She was still in school, a year or two younger than Tony, who was clearly besotted with her. She, in turn, thought the sun, moon and stars rose at his command.

Her father was Paco, one of our Mexican contract workers, a huge brute of a man with a bad temper. I didn't care for him, but deferred to Armando's judgment.

Paco, for some unknown reason, disliked Tony and forbade Cassie to see him. But, like young lovers from time immemorial they still continued to see each other on the sly. When Paco found out about it, he punished Cassie and promptly shipped her and her mother back to Mexico.

Tony was devastated. He threatened to go to Mexico and personally 'rescue' her. Armando and I managed to keep him from mounting his white charger and heading south but, I feared a confrontation between Tony and Paco.

One afternoon, the boys were working on a project in one corner of the corral while Armando and I were in my office going over plans for our entries in the Western Stock Show. We heard a commotion in the corral and both of us walked over to the window to see what was going on.

We arrived just in time to see Paco deliver a vicious blow to Tony's head with a piece of 2x2 the boys had been using. Tony dropped like a stone and Paco raised the club to strike him again. Before either Armando or I could react, Paulie, with a scream of rage, launched himself at Paco, picked him up, and threw him across the corral and into the stock tank. The other workers in the corral were stunned into silence. He then dropped to his knees, cradled Tony's head and howled, "He's killed him! Somebody help me!"

Both Armando and I rushed down the stairs, Armando pausing long enough to grab a shotgun and pump two shells into its breech. Paco had already climbed out of the tank and was advancing on the boys again.

"Give me the gun, Armando. I'll take care of Paco, you tend to Tony." To Paco I shouted, "One step closer and I'll blow your head off!" Paco halted and stood there glaring at me. I handed the gun to one of the other cowhands and told them to take Paco to the bunkhouse, lock him in the storage room and see that he stays there. I would deal with him later. Then I joined Armando and Paulie.

Susan, our resident nurse, had been summoned and came running. After examining the unconscious boy, she said, "He has a nasty gash, but I'm most worried about concussion or a scull fracture. We need to get him to hospital right away." Maria had joined us by this time and was crying in the background.

I flipped open my cell phone and dialed 911. I explained the problem and was told the medivac helicopter would be there in 15 minutes. True to their word, they landed in the open space next to the corral, quickly checked out their patient, and were airborne on the way to Memorial Hospital in a matter of minutes.

The four of us piled into my SUV and headed to town, arriving at Memorial in record time.

Tony was still being examined, so we settled down in the lounge to wait. Finally a scrub-suited doctor came out and asked for Tony's parents. "He does not have a fracture, but almost certainly has a serious concussion. I sutured the scalp wound, but we won't know if there is any permanent damage until he wakes. That could be soon, it could be a long time. He is intensive care. If either of you would like to stay with him, I'm sure we can arrange that. When he does awake, it would be best if someone familiar is there."

We agreed that Marie should stay, so she went off with the doctor and the rest of us headed back to the ranch. On the way, I told Armando, "Take whatever time you need. Don't worry about the ranch. Use my SUV for as long as you like."

"Thank you Senor Dan. I just need to give my assistant a few directions, and then I'll go back."

"Paulie, please tell us what happened."

"We were working on a feed trough for the young colts, when Paco came into the corral and started to curse at Tony and call him names. Tony didn't answer him, honest! Paco came and stood over Tony and kept on calling him names. Tony just grit his teeth and still didn't answer him and that made Paco even more angry. Tony started to stand up, and Paco hit him over the head. I had to save him or I think Paco would have killed him."

"I think you're probably right about that, Paulie. You saved his life!"

"I was wrong about Paco," Armando apologized. "He is not an asset to the ranch. I will send him back to Mexico today. He will not come to America again. My family will discipline him and take care of his wife and daughter."

"Thank you, Armando. I think the less fuss about this the better. I am so sorry that Tony was injured and we will spare no effort so see he recovers fully. If you need time away from here to be with Tony and Marie, please go"

"Thank you Senor Dan. I will give the men their instructions and then return to the hospital."

The next afternoon, Armando reported that Tony had awakened, and the doctors felt he would be OK. He did make a full recovery, physically, but was never again the happy, animated youth we had known,

The hospital had reported Tony's injury to the sheriff and Joe stopped by to find out what had happened. I told him what I knew and let Paulie fill in the details. Joe agreed with our solution, "That's a wise course. I don't think anything would be served by prosecuting this Paco and it would give you more exposure than you might like. I'll square it away with the court. By the way, you should know there are all kinds of wild rumors about how Paulie took care of Paco; you wouldn't believe some of them. I think we just need to let this whole affair fade away."

I thanked him for his understanding and help and could not have agreed with him more.

About mid afternoon, Paulie appeared at my office door, with his head hanging. He was concealing something behind his back. "I did something very foolish," he said. "I did not control my powers." Both his father and I had helped him understand the importance of not showing his powers in public, but I knew it was hard for him, especially if he saw someone he loved being brutally hurt. "You should be angry with me."

"Paulie, I am not angry at all. In fact, I am proud of you that you came to Tony's aid. Paco probably would have killed him if you hadn't. I wish you might have done it a little less spectacularly; one of your karate kicks to his balls or kneecap would have put him out of commission just as effectively. "

"I know, but I was afraid for Tony and I just forgot. " He was near tears. "I may have exposed us to questions and I should be punished 3; hard." He handed me the whip which he had been hiding."

"Paulie, come here!" I held him at arm's length. "I swore to you that I would never punish you with that whip again, no matter what the circumstances. I will never break that promise." He looked even more miserable. "If you feel you must be punished, I will do so, but not that way." He seemed a bit relieved. "Go to our bedroom and strip. I'll be along shortly."

I had, from time-to-time, spanked him playfully, and very occasionally hard when he needed real punishment. The former always resulted in his orgasm, the latter in tears and screams. I must confess, I enjoyed spanking him in either case. The feel of his ass cheeks, especially after his rump was warmed nicely, was usually enough to set me off.

When I arrived, he was standing naked in the center of the room. I moved a chair to the center of the floor and sat down. He knew what was coming. "Ok, over my knees." He took his place and I massaged his ass cheeks to make them more sensitive. He was trying mightily to hold back his tears. I aimed my first spank at his left cheek and left a red print of my hand there. He grunted and clenched his ass. My second blow went to his right and I alternated from then on. Tears began to flow and then crying followed by hysterical sobs. I could feel that it was really hurting him, but managed not to get captured by his anguish.

After thirty or so strokes, I stopped, stood him up, let him sob into my shirt and wiped away his tears. His whole ass was a brilliant red and very hot to the touch. He didn't rub it; he knew better.

"Now, you have been well and truly punished." He nodded. Handing the whip to him I said, "Go and destroy this. I don't want to ever see it again." He nodded again, leaned down and kissed me, clutched the whip and left. I found out later that he had run down to the corral stark naked to throw the whip into the incinerator before dressing again. That his rear hurt terribly might have partly accounted for his bare ass performance. He ate his supper off the counter; it hurt too much to sit. We didn't do much lovemaking that night, just cuddled a bit. Afterward he slept on his tummy with no covers on his hot behind.

He was really getting too old to spank, although we still played that way from time to time, and I needed to find another effective means to discipline him on those rare occasions he needed it. Something I had read on PZA recently, came to mind and I decided to try it on him.

Several days went by and his ass was back to normal, so as I undressed him one evening I asked, "How about a little bondage tonight?" That surprised him, as he was usually the one who asked to be tied up. "Yessss.! I'll get my box of goodies," and he ran into his room where he hid them and returned a few seconds later.

We had never engaged in anal sex 3; both of us were much too fond of sucking and kissing 3; but I had used my finger up his ass. We had discovered he had a very sensitive prostate; it only took a few tweaks to drive him over the top. One time, I tried a vibrator and the result was almost five minutes of continuous orgasms until I turned it off. He wasn't real fond of that so I hadn't done it again.

He lay down on my bed on his back and I fastened his hands to the top rail. Before fastening his feet, I retrieved the vibrator, lubricated it and pushed it up his hole.

"You're not going to use that on me are you? Please, please no!"

"You may consider this the second part of your punishment," I told him as I stretched him into a rather tight spread eagle and secured his feet. "Just remember, you asked for this." I blindfolded him, but did not gag him. I took a shoestring from my drawer and tied it tightly around his balls at the base of his penis.

"Why did you do that?"

"You'll see shortly." The idea, of course, was that the vibrator will keep him in a complete state of sexual arousal and the cord around his cock and balls would keep him from releasing it. I started the vibrator.

In less than a minute, "Ohhhh Godddd! I need to cum! Please let me come, Dad! I can't stand it! Ohhhhh! Please turn it off!"

I could feel what he was going thru, and decided my idea was a winner. "I think I'll just leave you and watch some TV."

"Noooooooo!" he screamed. If he had been able to think coherently, he would have known that I would never have left him alone when he was in bondage, not even for a second. Unfortunately, his mind was fully occupied with the feelings coursing thru his groin. As I watched he fought with his shackles, and lifted his entire body off the bed in his mad effort to achieve orgasm. I let him go for about ten minutes, by which time he was screaming for release, even though exhausted. Just when he must have thought he would explode, I removed the cord from around his balls and shut off the vibrator.

He gave one last heave and boy juice came boiling out of his prick. He had never ejaculated before. He covered his chest and face and a good portion of my headboard with his semen. Once he was thoroughly drained, he sank down into the bed again and gasped until he could regain his breath. "That was worse than being whipped," he stammered.

"Well, that is the punishment you can expect from now on if you need it"

"You wouldn't!" he cried, "you sadistic bastard!"

"Yep!" That silenced him.

He thought a while. "I guess I had better be very good!"

"That's the idea!" I released him from his bonds and took my sticky boy in my arms. "Did you notice that you made cream for the first time? You had a real cum."

"Really? Oh yuk, I have it all over me and some on you too. and on the bed. That means I'm a man, now, doesn't it?

"Not quite, but you're on the way!"

"But you won't want to suck me any more?"

"Paulie, I will love you all the more when you give me a mouthful of your precious juice. Now, I think we had better get cleaned up and hit the sack." He was so tired, he fell asleep in the shower and I had to finish washing him. I dried us both off and carried him to my bed, climbed in beside him and was asleep almost at once.

Although we had hoped the 'Paco Incident' would fade away, such was not to be the case. One morning, Sheriff Joe called to say he was bringing two people to see us. They were interested in how Paulie managed to best Paco. He apologized, but said he had no choice.

When they arrived, he introduced them as Special Agent Brenner of the FBI and a Mr. Sullivan from Homeland Security.

Sullivan took the lead. "We would just like to ask your son Paul a few questions."

"What is your interest in him?" I asked.

"It's a national security matter. Now, may we please talk to him?" In the background, Joe was signaling that I should comply.

"All right." I picked up the intercom. "Paulie, would you please come to my office." When he arrived, I attempted to put him at ease, but, of course, he could read my quandary.

Sullivan with a rather oily smile, "I understand you had a fight with one of the ranch hands a week or so ago. Please tell us about it." Paulie gave his account of the fight, but that didn't seem to satisfy either man.

"You're just a boy! How do you explain," asked Brenner, "how you could defeat a full grown man who was so much bigger than you?"

"He hurt my friend and I had to save him," replied Paulie in some distress.

"Stop evading the question and answer it!", snapped Sullivan.

"That will be all the questions," I interrupted. "You may go, Paulie." He left with a glance backward that signaled his distress.

"Now, just a damn minute!" shouted Sullivan. "You can't. We're not done"

"Yes you are. You have no legal reason to be here."

"I don't need no fucking reason!"

"Joe, please take these unwelcome guests, back to where they came from! Now!"

All three of them left, two unwillingly. Paulie was waiting outside my office door, very frightened. He flew into my arms and cried, "What are we going to do?"

"Nothing, until I have a chance to discuss things with Joe and John Howard." I set up a meeting for the following morning. That evening Paulie was fearful and restless.

The next morning, the four of us met in my office; I had asked Armando to join us. Joe led off, "I think you handled that about as well as could be expected," he said to me. "They are clearly interested in Paulie's powers. I don't know why, but I did some research on Sullivan. His card says he is the director of the Special Projects Group at Homeland Security. The only problem is, there is no such group. This smacks of a 'black group' operation, but I can't prove it. Brennan is just his pawn. He's been a pain in the ass ever since the Bureau assigned him here. Won't cooperate with local law enforcement about anything. Both of them are madder'n hell."

"Unless they can convince a judge that a federal crime has been committed," John added, "they have no right to be here. I don't think that's at all likely. If they start getting pushy, I'll get a restraining order, and the federal marshals to enforce it"

"But, I think it would be wise to post a few guards about. I'll assign a few of my deputies to help."

"Thank you both." I said. "Right now, my biggest worry is Paulie. He blames himself for what's happened and I have never seen him so frightened. Thank you for your offer, Joe. It would be best have trained law officers about, rather than amateurs. "

Over the next several days, I worked with Paulie and by the end of the week, he was less fearful, but still wary. We heard nothing more from the 'Toni Twins' for more than a month and I began to hope we had weathered this crisis. We all began to feel more comfortable. Bad move!

The first indication that anything was amiss came with a crash as black-garbed men burst into our bedroom. I grabbed for the pistol, I had been keeping by my bed, but before I could do anything, one of the intruders shot me with a small dart. My last conscious memory is of Paulie, grabbing the man who had shot me and hurling him through the wall into the hallway. Then, everything went black!

I awoke lying in my bed, with Nurse Susan peering over me. "He's awake!" she called, and the room filled up fast, Armando, Marie, and Joe.

I was still a bit groggy, but managed to sit up. "Where's Paulie?"

The room was deathly silent. Finally, Armando spoke, "They took him, Senor Dan."

The blow I felt from those words was almost unbearable. "How long have I been out?"

"About 36 hours." Joe broke in, "They took him out by helicopter after darting every one of my men. Where they went, we haven't a clue. They filed no flight plan and FAA has no record of any helicopter flight in our area. At least none they will admit to. This is definitely a 'black group' operation in my opinion. Which means everyone will stonewall us"

I looked about at these friends, who I knew were just as upset as I was. I struggled to my feet, staggered to my office and retrieved the 'Paulie' receiver. His signal was there! Weak, but there! "This will locate him for us! Joe, how soon can you have a copter ready to chase these bastards?"

"About an hour. But you're in no condition to go any place."

"And I'm in no condition to stay here! Please get that copter for me. If Paulie is to be found we're going to have to do it." Marie and Susan fussed over me and I placated them by eating a bit and drinking some power shakes. But, I was dressed and ready to go when the La Quinta County helicopter settled beside the corral. "Armando, you are in full charge until we get back! Pray for us!"

We strapped in and were off. Joe handed me a small dart pistol, like the one that had been used on me and I stowed it in my vest. Almost as soon as we were airborne, I was able to determine that Paulie was south of us. We pretty much flew just above the terrain to avoid anyone tracking us. It wasn't long before we crossed into New Mexico; we were now out of Joe's jurisdiction, not that either of us cared, "Will the sheriff down here, be of any help?" I asked hopefully.

"No, he's an idiot! He and Brenner are buddies. The NRA pays him off to overlook the goings-on at their big reservation down here."

"Well, it looks like they have him somewhere a little west of here."

"Yeah, right smack in the middle of the NRA reservation."

"Fly a circuit around it and see if we can pinpoint him. Don't get too close, I don't want to alert them that we've tracked him. That could put him in a lot of danger."

"There's a small restricted air space on the south side and it looks like that's where he is. Google shows a couple of small buildings there and dirt track leading in from route 16."

"We'll have to go in on the ground. The copter would give us away and I'm not sure there's a place to land it. Mike, land us at Raston. We should be able get a vehicle there,"

We had hardly touched down when a sheriff's vehicle roared up. The occupant jumped out and stormed up to us, "Harsh what are you doing here? You're way out of your jurisdiction and you are going to be in deep shit this time?"

I drew the dart pistol from my vest and shot him in the belly. He jumped at the sudden sting and collapsed in a heap. I gave him another dart in his butt, for good measure.

I handed Mike the pistol. "That should keep him out for while. But, if he so much as blinks before we get back, shoot him again. Mike gulped and then smiled. "It will be pleasure!"

"Well, since the nice sheriff has left us his SUV, let's use it." Joe grabbed an AK47 from his kit, handing me his dart pistol, and we took off west on route 16. About 30 miles out we found the turn-off and headed into NRA territory, cheerfully ignoring the no-trespassing signs. The road – if one could call it that – was rutted, rocky and full of tree stumps. We hadn't gone very far before I began to 'feel' Paulie. He was hurting, angry and very, very frightened. Suddenly, there was a burst of pain. "God! They're torturing him!" But, I knew we were getting close.

Suddenly, just ahead, we saw lights and jerked to a stop. Pulling the SUV into the trees, we approached a chain link fence topped with barbed wire. Beyond it were several buildings, one of which showed lights. While we were trying to figure out how to get beyond the fence, the problem solved itself. A man came out of the lighted building, hopped into a pick-up truck and drove up to the gate. After short pause, the gate began to open. We dashed toward the gate. The truck was just starting thru, when I leaped up on the running board and darted the driver. The truck ground to a halt sitting in the middle of the date.

We dragged the driver out, trussed him up and pitched him into the ditch by the side of the road. Then, slipping thru the gate, we hurried toward the lighted building.

As we approached the building, we heard Paulie scream and a wave of pain washed over me. "Oh, God! They've started again!" I kicked in the door and we ran down the hall to the room with the light. I was prepared for cruelty, but what I saw from the doorway momentarily stopped me in my tracks.

Paulie was lying on a frame that was a modern, motor-driven equivalent of a medieval torture rack. His arms and legs were confined in metal shackles and his body was being severely stretched to the point I was sure his shoulders must be dislocated. But the worst was the wire cable around his genitals that was slowly lifting his body off the mat. A man stood with his back to us holding what looked to be a control box. Paulie's scream had stopped abruptly, he had passed out. The click of Joe's camera brought me back.

I grabbed for the box as Joe smashed his rifle butt into the man's head.

It seemed to take me forever to figure out the box (in reality only a second or two) and the machine reversed and began to take the strain off my poor boy. His entire body was covered with angry welts.

Paulie suddenly awoke and began screaming again, "Please stop! I can't stand it! I'll tell you what you want to know! The pain!"

"Easy, son, it's me. We've come to get you out of this hell hole."

"Oh, Dad! I knew you would came, but I just couldn't stand the pain any more."

I tenderly embraced him, and then just lay my head on his battered chest and bawled like a baby. "Oh my Paulie! What have these monsters done to you?"

Hearing his heart beat snapped me back to reality. "Come on, Joe. We've got to get him out of here!"

There was enough slack in the cable that I could remove it. His scrotum was severely lacerated, but as soon as I removed the loop, he peed all over himself. At least that part of his equipment wasn't destroyed.

The shackles were another problem. We finally found a key, which fit the locks and had them open in short order.

"Don't move, Paulie." I probed his shoulders gently and was relieved they were not dislocated after all. I took his right arm and slowly bent it down to his waist and flexed his elbow. He screamed. It must have hurt terribly, as the stretched muscles and ligaments relaxed. I did the same thing with his other arm. I slowly flexed his legs and hips and got them back to a more normal state. We treated his lacerated wrists and ankles as best we could, and then wrapped him in a blanket and I carried him out to the SUV and laid him gently on the back seat.

Joe, in the meantime, had trussed up the torturer and dumped him in the ditch with his companion. "Joe, I'm going to destroy this place. I saw propane heaters in the hall, so I'm going to let the gas do the job for us."

"Good idea, I'll take care of it," he said, starting back toward the building. "You stay here with Paulie."

"Wait!" shouted Paulie. "There's another boy! His name is Shawn and he is autistic. He can't talk!"

Joe took off at a run and returned a few moments later with a little boy, wrapped up in what appeared to be a plastic cocoon. While I loaded him into the SUV, Joe went back and smashed the regulators off several of the propane heaters. As he ran back thru the gate, he pulled a grenade from his pack, and rolled it under the truck still sitting in the gateway. As we drove off, it burst into flames. We were a mile or so down the road when a bright flash and an echoing boom told is our improvised 'bomb' had been successful.

I held the two boys in the back while Joe maneuvered around the potholes and tree stumps. As soon as we were out on the highway, he called his pilot and had him get ready for us.

We tore into the little airfield, ditched the car and were airborne in a few minutes. I sat beside the pilot with Paulie in my lap while Joe sat behind us holding our boy-in-a-cocoon. "I took the liberty of removing a couple of parts from their copter," Mike reported. Good man!

As soon as we were out of New Mexico airspace, I called the ranch. "We'll be there in about 90 minutes. Please have Susan standing by. We have not one, but two very battered boys." Joe called his deputy and told him the find the best orthopedic pediatrician at Memorial and have him waiting for us at the ranch, even it he had to get him there by force.

The 90 minutes seemed to drag. Paulie drifted in and out of consciousness, but we finally settled in the open space before the corral. We were met by most of the community and willing hands soon had both boys in the infirmary under the doctor's and Susan's care.

I thanked my people for their concern and promised to let them know how the boys were. They slowly dispersed to their homes and we settled down to wait in the infirmary office.

After about an hour, the doctor and Susan joined us. Both were livid, Susan crying her heart out. "I'd like to get a hold of the monster who did this to these boys!" the doctor screamed. "I would happily cut his heart out ... after I cut off his balls!"

"You'll have the get in line with quite a few others. I know you are upset, but you must understand this is now part of criminal investigation and you can't discuss it with anyone, even members of your own practice. Now, how are they?" I asked.

"I understand. The older boy, who I understand is your son, is not in too bad shape, considering he's had the crap beat out of him. The lacerations on his wrists, ankles and his scrotum will be painful, but should heal OK. I don't know if the welts will leave scars or not. His anal canal has been violated, but I did not find any tears, thankfully. His shoulder and hip tendons are distended, but should respond to therapy. What did they do, have him on a rack?

I nodded.

"Damn! I understand you have a whirlpool in the main house and that would be very beneficial. I would not let him try to walk for a few days. I just hope there is no permanent damage. Fucking bastards."

"It took us most of an hour to get the plastic material off the other boy. Under it they had tied him in a fetal position. He'll need whirlpool, also. He's terribly malnourished, and, apparently, does not talk. He's full of welts and has a tear in his anal canal, which I repaired. I've sedated both of them, so they should sleep until some time tomorrow afternoon." At this point, he broke down. "How could someone do this to those young boys?" he wailed.

After he had recovered himself, "Physically, they will probably recover quickly. Mentally and emotionally, I just don't know. Unless something develops, I should not have the see them again, but don't hesitate to call."

I thanked him for his care and Joe sent him home in the helicopter. We decided to transfer Paulie to his own bed and Susan agreed to stay with Shawn for the night. I sat in the chair beside Paulie's bed and tried to sleep, but was wracked with pain and sorrow. How could any human being hurt my Paulie so?

In the morning, we moved Shawn into one of the guest rooms in the main house, and arranged for several of the women of the community to spell Susan, so there would be someone with him around the clock. Marie took over for me and I sat down with Joe and our attorney, John.

"I think it's pretty clear we must get both boys away from here. This is the first place they'll look." They agreed. " I know of only one way we can do that without their being traced."

"The transporter?"

"Yes. They will probably petition to search the ranch, but I can't send them anywhere for a few days. John, I need some time for them to heal a little bit. Do what you can to stall them. Just keep them out of my hair for a few days."

"I'll do the best I can, Dan. But, inevitably, they will get a writ. Well, I'm off to court. Guess I'll start really earning my retainer."

He had no sooner left, than our friendly FBI agent arrived with the mysterious Mr. Sullivan in tow. "Where are they?" he screamed, as I met them on the veranda. After determining that he had no writ or other legal authority to be here, I replied, "Agent Brennan, I'm going to invite you politely to leave. If you don't want to leave, politely, I'll have my angry cowhands, throw you off my property." He almost had an apoplexy, but Sullivan grabbed him and they left and I returned to Paulie.

I returned to the chair beside his bed. Looking down at my battered and bruised boy, I wept.

He finally awoke in mid afternoon and sipped a little broth while I held him in my arms. He was so stiff the slightest movement was agonizing. "Welcome back!"

Despite the pain, he smiled. "You don't know how good it is to be back!"

"I think, I do! Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yeah, I'll feel better if I do." His voice quivered. "The last thing I remember was throwing that thug who darted you across the room. Then, they must have got me, because everything went black.

The next thing I remember was waking up tied to a chair. They must have drugged me, 'cause I couldn't break out. They were working on Shawn, whipping him, and trying to get him to talk. That's how I learned his name and that he was autistic. After a while, I couldn't stand watching them hurt him, so I shouted at them. Bad move! They knew I was awake, so they left him and began to work on me."

"At first, they just asked questions. Where did I come from? Was I an alien? How did I get here? Where was my family? I made up my mind I wouldn't answer them and that pissed them off. They slapped me around until I passed out again."

"I have no idea how long I was out. When I came to, I was hanging on a frame and they began the questions again. When I still refused to answer, they beat me with a short whip, front and back. I withdrew into myself and was able to control the pain that way. But, I must have passed out again. When I came to, I was still hanging in the dark. My arms hurt like hell. I was afraid I was going to die before you could get to me."

"Then, I was back in the chair again. Only this time, Shawn was hanging on the frame. They said they would beat him until I answered. I tried to help him with his pain, and they finally gave up. They just left him hanging and me tied to the chair in the dark. It seemed like days."

They put me on that rack, but at first tied my legs over my head." Here he broke down and began to sob, "Oh Dad, I'm so ashamed! They raped me up my ass. It was horrible. They, they put me back on the rack and began to stretch me. The pain was awful and I finally lost it," he bawled. "I'm so ashamed! I was ready to answer their questions! If you hadn't broken in when you did, I would have spilled all the beans!"

"Paulie, Paulie!" I interrupted him. "You held out longer than anyone could have hoped for. You were heroic! There is no shame to having given in to their torture."

"But they raped me!" he cried. "I'm so ashamed! It's my fault they took me and you had to rescue me."

"There is no shame and no blame on you. You did what you had to, to save a friend's life. The shame belongs to these monsters who tortured and beat you. Don't ever let me hear you blame yourself again. That's rubbish! As for the rape, you had no control any more than a woman who is being forcibly violated. We've stopped blaming the victims! You were a victim and completely innocent!" I'm not sure whether my outburst helped or not, but he seemed calmer. I took him in my arms and we both sobbed on each other's shoulders.

"Come on," I picked him up, carried him over to the whirlpool and climbed in with him.

He lay in my lap in the warm water and gradually relaxed into a dream-like state, while I rubbed his tortured body. "Oh that feels so good!" Then sobbing, "The whole time I was tied in the dark, I was afraid I would never see you again. I knew you would never give up until you rescued me, but I was afraid I might die before you found me. I would never touch you again 3; never be held again 3; never make you happy again. When they began on the rack, I was SURE I was going to die. Your voice was the most beautiful sound I have ever heard." By this time we were both bawling again. But the hot water had worked it's magic and he was able to sit in a comfortable chair after I dried us off.

Marie came in to watch over him for a while, as I needed to make plans for his and Shawn's departure. Outside his bedroom door, stood Tony, his eyes red from weeping. "Oh, Senor Dan! It's my fault. If I just hadn't 3;."

"Tony, I believe you and Cassie were truly in love. Paulie did what he had to when you were attacked. You are not to blame for any of it. The blame rests with those who kidnapped and tortured him and I assure you I am going to make them pay dearly. Now, buck up and go see Paulie. He needs your strength."

That evening as he lay in bed, I rubbed his whole body with Elena's lotion. Not only did it help to heal his welts and lacerations, rubbing it in helped to further sooth the stretched tendons and muscles. Marie and the others were also using it on Shawn with good results. Even so, both boys slept uncomfortably that night.

Tuesday and Wednesday we repeated the whirlpool treatments twice a day. By Wednesday afternoon we had succeeded in fully uncurling Shawn from his fetal position. The tears rolling down his cheeks had told us how painful the treatments were but he accepted them without comment, trusting us fully.

Wednesday afternoon in the whirlpool with Paulie, I decided to answer a question that I knew was troubling both of us. I lifted him and sat him on the edge of the whirlpool. Putting his legs over my shoulders, I took his boyhood into my mouth. He was instantly hard and unloaded into my mouth. Thank heavens they had not destroyed that part of him either. I looked up at him and he smiled that radiant smile of his, "Oh God that felt good! Can I do you now?" I knew he was back. "Save it for tonight," I told him as I slipped him back into the water.

By that evening both boys were well enough to have meals with us. Paulie demolished everything Marie set before him. Shawn ate well, but never uttered a single word. I had met with the community late that afternoon and told them how the boys were coming along and thanked them for their outpouring of love.

Wednesday night, Paulie and I made gentle love, the first since his rescue. Holding him and feeling him respond was one of the most gratifying feelings anyone can imagine. That night, he slept comfortably in my arms.

As I walked from the office to the house Thursday morning, little Pedro, the son of one of my wranglers stopped me. He was carrying a well-loved teddy bear, bigger than he was. "I want to give this to the little boy who was hurt and cannot talk," he said. "Then he will have a friend to be with him."

I managed, just, to keep back my tears. I took Pedro gently by the hand and led him into the house and up to Shawn's room. Shawn was sitting quietly, staring into space. Pedro held out his gift, and, wonder of wonders, Shawn accepted it. I hoped be might tell Pedro thank you. Instead, he reached out to Pedro, took him into his arms and kissed him on his forehead. A corner has been turned, I thought!

I thanked Pedro and walked him back to his mother.

Our intrepid attorney not only got a few days, we had an entire week. By Friday morning both boys were healing well, their lacerations and welts were fading and tortured muscles and tendons were almost normal, although Shawn still did not speak.

But the inevitable call from John came that morning. "Dan, I've gotten you all the time I can. Sullivan has filed a National Security Warrant. I managed to put off the hearing until Monday morning, but it is certain to be approved. I think you can count on the search squad by Monday afternoon."

"You've done wonders, John, and I thank you for it. I've been avoiding it, but it's time to bring Paulie up to date. Thank you again for the time you gave us."

I suggested to Paulie that we ride out to 'our valley' if he was up to it. He could sense that I had bad news, but didn't comment about it as we rode. Arriving, we spread out some blankets, lay down and held each other in silence.

Finally sitting up, I said, "The goon squad will be here sometime Monday to begin searching for you and Shawn. I think you already know that you are going to have to leave Poloma for a time."

"No Dad! I want to stay and fight. Together, we can beat these bastards!"

"Paulie, they would just take you away again. I will not let that happen; not while I still draw breath. The only way to beat them is to put you somewhere they can't find you. That means outside the US, I'm afraid. The only way we can be sure you can't be tracked is to use the Transporter. Although it has never been made clear, I believe the terminus is not in this country. Your father was a very careful planner and I believe he would have made that move."

"You're not going with me, are you?"

"No Paulie, I can't. The transporter will only take two. We can't leave Shawn here, either."

He burst into tears, "I don't want to go without you! I couldn't stand to be separated from you again!"

"It will be hard for me too, but we have no choice. I promise you with all my heart and soul I will come to you as soon as I can. I know you will be brave and get through our separation. I need you take care of Shawn. Neither of us knows where you will be, but I have a plan so you can secretly tell me where you are. I will miss you terribly, but knowing that you and Shawn are safe will make it bearable. Trust me! This is the only way"

"You know I trust you! I guess I knew it might come to this. I'm ready. I must be brave for Shawn 3; and for you, too. It's sort of like the time you whipped me. We have to be brave for each other. When?

"Sunday morning."

We rode back to the ranch in silence, each busy with his thoughts. That night, we made furious love.

We spent most of Saturday going over the details of their journey. Paulie had told Shawn about their leaving, and he seemed to accept it, so long as Paulie would be with him. I would not tell Armando or any of our community until they had departed.

Early Sunday morning, the boys packed a few things 3; Shawn's included a huge teddy bear. Together, we walked to the springhouse. Our thumbprints activated the transporter and I helped Paulie strap Shawn in and then with his own harness. "Remember, you have to both push the red button in front of you at the same time," I reminded them.

Paulie looked at me. "I'm scared to death, but I love you and trust you."

"Me, too!"

"Let's get this over with. You ready, Shawn?" The little boy nodded. "On three! One! Two! Three!"

There was a flash 3; and they were gone.

I stumbled back to the house. About half way there, I saw another flash and I knew the transporter was gone, too. Armando was waiting for me. "They are gone, are they not?" I nodded and Armando took me into his arms and held me while I wept.

Later that day, I called the community together. "I must tell you that Paulie and Shawn are no longer here. They have gone on a journey to a place where they will be safe. At some point in the next several months, I will join them. I do not know at this time, where they have gone, but Paulie and I have worked out a way for him to tell me in secret. I pledge to you all that we will return to Poloma when the time is right."

"Sometime on Monday, the authorities will be here to search the ranch for them. I ask that each of you cooperate fully with them. It is my hope they will treat us all with dignity and concern. Regardless, we will treat them with dignity. We are all proud of Poloma and what it has become. We will not let this thing tarnish us."

True to my prediction, Monday afternoon, Brenner and Sullivan arrived with the court order. They brought with them a full company of troops from nearby Fort Clark. The company commander was Col. Bob Justy, whom I knew. Before starting the search, he and I spoke.

"Dan, I hope you know that I consider this whole operation to be pure bullshit. But I have no choice."

"I understand, Bob. I would only ask you to treat my people courteously and do as little physical damage as possible."

"Dan, I have told each trooper that if he causes anyone the slightest amount of grief or so much as scratches the paint on a building, he will spend the rest of his Army career, shoveling mule exhaust in Afghanistan."

Brenner's opening salvo was, "You could save us all a lot of trouble, if you'd just turn the boys over to me."

"You could save the taxpayers a lot of money, if you would stop all this nonsense and go away. They are not here." I replied.

So the search began. After three full days, both Brenner and Sullivan were livid. On the other hand, my people welcomed the soldiers and I had not one complaint from anyone about their behavior.

Thursday Morning, we were all summoned to court. Brenner and Sullivan and John Howard and I.

The judge clearly had had it with the two federal officers. He vacated their warrant and issued a permanent injunction banning any federal authorities from any further actions on Poloma Ranch. Sullivan 'lost it' and ended up spending 30 days in jail for contempt of court.

So, we were free of further harassment. The ranch could return to a state of some normalcy.

After his troops had packed up and were on their way back to Fort Clark, I invited Bob Justy to have dinner with me.

"Bob, I'm going to trust you with some information that I think you need, so you and your boss will understand what is going on with these people. Paulie has some unusual abilities. You've heard the rumors. Some of them are even true. For whatever reason, Sullivan thinks Paulie is a security risk – a 12-year-old boy. Sullivan's people – I can't prove this, but am absolutely sure – were the ones who kidnapped him. I'd like to show you how the treated him."

I got up and retrieved the photos Joe Harsh had taken when we broke in.

"Jesus! These people are monsters! They're sick! If I had known about this, I would have refused my orders and we never would have left the fort."

"It was just as well you didn't, but thank you for the thought. The important point is that both boys are together in a place where these bastards can't get at them. I don't know where that is, but, sooner or later, I'll find out and join them. Please share as much of this with your CO as you think prudent. I trust your judgment."

"Then you were the one who rescued them? Those poor, little boys!"

"Well, Joe Harsh and I did. And, there is no way I'm going to let those slime balls get their hands on either of them again. They simply didn't believe me that they were not here. Oh well, your guys got a chance to practice a search mission, even if the target wasn't here." I put the photos back in my safe, after he left.

Thus began one of the longest months of my life. The ranch was functional, but I was in a blue funk and everyone knew it.

One morning, little Pedro (he of the giant teddy bear) knocked on my office door. "Come in Pedro, what can I do for you?"

"Please, Senor Dan, my mama wishes to speak with you. Can you come?"

I was a bit alarmed as his papa was in Poland with a shipment of horses and wasn't due back until the end of the month. I hoped that there wasn't something wrong. Taking his hand, we hurried down to their cottage.

"Thank you for coming, Senor Dan. I find it difficult to leave the little girl just now. I have been thinking. Pedro misses his papa very much; they are very close. I know you miss your Paulie very much, too. I know my Pedro can never, ever replace your Paulie, but I thought it might comfort you both if Pedro would sleep with you until his papa returns."

I was floored. Here was this sweet woman offering me her son to comfort me. What wonderful, compassionate, people these were. What did I ever do to deserve them? Pedro stood looking up at me with bright eyes. "Mama Serena, you do me a great honor which I do not deserve. But, yes, I will humbly and gratefully accept your gift."

And so, every evening after supper a small boy, dressed in his colorful pajamas, joined me in my room. He often brought a favorite book and would sit in my lap while I read to him. On several nights he sat on my shoulders as we stood outside and marveled at the night sky and I told him about the stars, planets and comets. We wrestled, tickled and hugged. He told me about his school and all that had happened that day. I was humbled beyond measure, to be afforded his trust.

In truth, that little warm body in his flannel pj's, lying beside me, comforted me more than I knew. I got over my funk and could move ahead again.

When his papa returned, I had the family in for dinner and father and son had a great time telling about their adventures. Again I thanked the whole family for responding to my need.

As the month drew to a close, I eagerly awaited the coded message from Paulie.

And, there it was, in the travel section of the New York Times. A small unobtrusive add by an outfit calling itself Tony's Adventure Tours. Thrilling tours for those who want something out of the ordinary. And there, just as we planned, was the third listing telling me where to find my boy. Life could go on! I knew where he was!

Chapter 3

Knowing that Paulie was somewhere in New Zealand, was great. But getting me there without being traced was something else. Armando and I had worked out a method for getting me out of the country and started to construct the equipment during the month we waited for Paulie's message.

In the center of one of our horse trailers, we built a small cubicle, big enough to hold a person comfortably. There was an access hatch that opened downward, outside the trailer floor.

I was scheduled to speak at a Cattleman's Association meeting in Seattle the same day, we planned to ship a load of horses by air to Latvia. John Howard had found an actor who could pass for my twin brother. He would go to my meeting and I would go with the horses. When the plane stopped to refuel at Goose Bay, Labrador, I would exit. Neither the wranglers accompanying the horses nor the aircrew would know I had been aboard.

John had some professional friends in the Canadian Customs and Immigration Service and one of them would meet me at Goose Bay and provide me with a transit visa. From Goose Bay, I could book a flight to go where I needed. Since a transit visa was involved, the US government need not be notified of my passage.

On the day scheduled, Armando drove 'me' to the airport and saw 'me' off on the flight to Seattle. From his report later, at least four agents went along. I left with the horses, carrying only a few papers and Paulie's receiver. The actor delivering my speech would allow me enough time to disappear; the horses would be delivered as per schedule and the trailer would not return to Paloma.

The transfer at Goose Bay went off flawlessly and two long days later, I landed in Wellington, New Zealand. With the help of another of John's 'friends', I managed to bypass that country's authorities. I had no idea how much this skullduggery cost us and I didn't much care. John had had brand new untraceable Swiss credit cards issued to me so I had practically unlimited funds at my disposal

As soon as I was thru the airport, I turned on the receiver. Paulie's signal was loud and clear!

Stopping only long enough to buy some clothes and a few other necessities, I rented a car and headed north toward my boy. According to Paulie's 'signal' he was somewhere just east of Te Urewera National Park. The highway ran up the east coast to a small town called Gisbourne. Paulie's signal came from west of there, almost into the park itself. The maps showed a ranch just east of the park and that was where Paulie's signal was coming from. An unimproved road ran west from Gisbourne toward the park, passing the ranch. Asking around Gisbourne, I had found out the ranch was a well-know stopping point to those going on to Te Urewera.

My heart said, "Push on!" My head said, "Better wait," as it was at least a 10-hour drive over some very rough country. So I spent an uncomfortable night in Gisbourne.

Late the next afternoon, having been thoroughly jounced and rattled, I topped a small rise and saw the ranch in the valley below. I was now beginning to 'feel' Paulie and could hardly contain my excitement. Caution to the winds, I roared up to the ranch and jumped out of the car. A tall, gray-haired man came out on the porch carrying a wicked looking rifle. I froze!

Then, from behind the man, a screaming whirlwind launched itself, taking me completely off my feet, as my Paulie and I rolled over and over hugging and laughing and crying, carrying on like a couple of schoolboys. Afterward, I sat up with him in my lap. "Oh Paulie, Paulie, Paulie! It is so good to have you in my arms again!" Paulie just bawled.

The man put down his rifle and walked over to us. "Well, my guests don't usually greet each other quite as vociferously. I'm Ian McDonald. Welcome to Urewera Station. Paulie never doubted for a minute you would come. My wife, Annabel, has a fresh pot of tea going. Why don't we sit on the porch and enjoy it?"

I picked my boy up and carried him; if he was embarrassed by this act, he didn't show it. We sat on the porch and Ian explained how he had become the terminus for Roderick's transporter.

"Quite a few years ago," he related, "Roderick and Elena stayed with us while he took care of some 'business'. Annabel and I got to know them quite well 3; we thought 3; they seemed like nice people. Our daughter Claire was just beginning to ride well, when she had a serious accident. Her spine was injured and the diagnosis was that she would never walk again, let alone ride a horse. It was a very sad time for us."

"Roderick said he had learned of a new therapy for injuries like Claire's and offered to treat her. His treatment was wildly successful; not only did she walk, she could ride again. How successful? Well, Claire led our equestrian team at the last three Olympics with two gold medals and a sliver."

"We were so grateful to Roderick we would have repaid him ten-fold. Instead, he trusted us enough to tell us who he and Elena really were and why they were in New Zealand. His story was pretty incredible, but we had no doubt he was being truthful with us. He had decided to go to the US for his research, but needed a place he could come to in an emergency."

"Of course we agreed at once, even after he explained how they would arrive. I guess we really did not expect him to use it, especially after all these years. So, when, instead of him and Elena, two small boys 3;"

It suddenly struck me! "Paulie, where's Shawn?"

Paulie's face dropped and there was an uncomfortable silence. I could feel his anguish. "He died, Dad."

"Oh Paulie, I'm so very sorry!"

"I know, Dad and I need to tell you 3;.

"Paulie, we can't bring Shawn back, but this is our night to rejoice. You can tell me about Shawn tomorrow."

"OK, Dad."

Ian confided to me later when Paulie was out of earshot. "Paulie's never told us the whole story of that night. He told us he was waiting for you to come and then he would share it. All we know is one morning Shawn just didn't wake up."

That night, Paulie and I did not have sex. We just slept soundly in each other's arms.

Early the next morning, Paulie led me to the top of the hill west of the ranch. The view was magnificent! You could see all the way to the lake in Te Urewera. There, in a little grove of trees was a single grave. The marker read "SHAWN, AN AMERICAN HERO." I wondered what it meant, but I knew my son would tell me when he was ready.

After breakfast, Paulie told the three of us Shawn's story.

"Shawn seemed to be getting well. But, he still wouldn't talk. He ate well, and even gained some weight. Them, one day I noticed he was smiling and seemed to be relaxed and happy for the first time."

"That night as we were getting ready for bed, he sat on the edge of my bed, looked me straight in the eye and began to talk."

"He told me his parents had been killed in a car accident and a strange man had rescued him from the wreck before it burned. The man was nice to him at first, but then began to fool around with him sexually. He hated that and wouldn't cooperate, so the man sold him."

"The people who bought him, gave him a shot and he woke up at a place called Onagin Island,"

"That's a small island off the coast of St. Lucia," Ian interjected. "The 'Lucies' have what they call a training school for delinquent boys there. Won't let anybody near it, though."

"Dad, it's a place where the boys are starved and beaten and used in all sorts of horrible experiments. I can't even describe some of the things they do to them; they're too horrible. Many of them die and are simply thrown into the ocean for the sharks. The guards work them to death and beat them all the time!"

"After a while, when they couldn't get him to talk, they gave him another shot and he woke up in that place in New Mexico where you and Joe rescued us."

"Shawn was strangely calm, even happy, telling me all this. When he was done, he hugged me, whispered goodbye, crawled into his bed and went to sleep. I didn't sleep much that night. The next morning he was gone. He looked so peaceful and happy, at first I thought he was just asleep."

"Dad, we have to rescue these boys! I promised him we would! Why did he have to die?" he wailed.

"Paulie, I think maybe he 'died' back there on that island. But he had to find someone he could trust to hear his story before he could be at peace. Now I understand why you called him An American Hero! "

The three of us were astounded at what he had told us. I turned to Ian. "Does your government know about this place?"

"Very little," he replied. "St Lucia is a very isolated country. The rulers won't let anyone visit and they have chased our fishing boats for years. The only country they seem to have any relations with is the US and even there they are very paranoid. We've heard of Onagin, but only that it was a boy's school. They absolutely refuse to let anyone in. Two news reporters were killed a few years ago when they tried to go there."

"Well, we need to tell someone about this."

"Sir Robert Crowell is the Minister for Defense and has often stayed with us. I think he will see you if I ask him."

Sir Robert listened politely, but that was all. Even Paulie's considerable charm was unable to sway him. He said that they could hardly invade another country based on hearsay. Obviously, we had a credibility problem. We would have to go to Onagin and document what Shawn had described.

Ian had another friend he suggested we talk to. He was Douglas Cameron of Greenpeace.

He met us aboard Greenpeace Explorer their flagship and headquarters since they had been forced out of the US some years before. Paulie told him Shawn's story and that we wanted to go to Onagin.

"Well, laddie, that shouldn't be too hard. We can't get closer than 30 miles [50 km], they have patrol boats constantly, and the waters are full of sharks." Turning to me, he said, "You might get lucky and survive, but I certainly wouldn't take the boy with you."

"Mr. Cameron, if you think you can talk my son into staying behind, please be my guest!"

Doug threw back his head and laughed. "He's stubborn, is he? Reminds me of myself at his age. I'll help you, but I haven't much hope for you. From what you've told me, though, this is a task that needs doing."

That night Explorer set sail for Onagin Island. The plan was to get as close as we could and then use Explorer's 2-man submersible to attempt to evade the patrols and get close enough to go the rest of the way by scuba. If anything happened to the sub, I had agreed to replace it. It was a very risky plan; once the sub was dropped, Explorer could do nothing to help us.

It was a three-day voyage to Onagin. Paulie and I received a crash course in sub operation and scuba, both of which we had never done before.

We chose a moonless night. Paulie and I donned our wetsuits, crawled into the cramped sub, and dropped over the side. Explorer would move away without stopping, hoping to draw away the inquisitive patrol boats. A few sharks nosed around us, but didn't seem much interested. We managed to dive under a boom net that Doug had not known was there.

Finally, we were about two miles from the shore, with just enough depth to hide the sub. Time for scuba and hope the sharks remained disinterested. After an exhausting hour battling the outgoing tide, we managed to make it to shore, even finding a small cave where we could hide our scuba gear. The scariest time was scurrying across the beach and into the trees before the sunrise gave us away.

We made it. Time for some rest and the food we had packed with is. Then we struck inland toward the 'school.' Fortunately we didn't have far to go before we encountered a perimeter fence topped with razor wire. Satellite photos had showed a number of buildings and we moved along the fence until we could see into the compound.

We began to hear shouts and, occasionally, boys' screams coming from several fields outside the fence on the far side of the compound. It was too far away for us to see what was happening, but the sounds were not friendly. We would have to wait to see what developed. Finally, late in the afternoon, there was action and Paulie began filming.

A ragged group of about 30 boys were marched into the compound and made to stand in the hot sun in front of the buildings. They were naked and filthy and looked to be exhausted. The guards walked among them, whipping them randomly.

A man, obviously an overseer of some sort, came out of one of the buildings carrying a many-stranded whip. The guards dragged one of the smaller boys to the front and hung him by his arms on a frame in front of the group. The 'boss' screamed at the boys that they were lazy and didn't work hard enough and the boy on the frame would be punished for all of them. He then proceeded to use the whip on the kid; we both counted at least 100 lashes. The kid's back was completely bloody when he was finished. It ran down his legs and pooled on the ground under him.

Throughout the whipping we could hear the crack of the whip hitting flesh and the cries of the other boys, but the victim didn't utter a sound.

When the whipping was over, the boss walked around inspecting the boys. Finally he pointed to one and the guards dragged him screaming into one of the buildings. The others were driven by whip into the other building, obviously a barracks of some sort. One of the boys stopped long enough to remove the bloody kid from the frame and carry him, incurring a beating from the guard for doing so.

Paulie was shaking with rage and I was sick! We had seen enough! We needed to get back to the beach. We needed to show the world what we saw.

Waiting until full dark, we made our way back to our cave hiding place and were just pulling on our scuba gear, when a truck pulled onto the beach. Two men got out and carried what had to be a small body down to just about the tide level. Tide was out, but would soon come in to cover up their burden. The body screamed. We were not witnessing a disposal; we were witnessing an execution!

One of the men got an iron bar out of the truck and began to beat the boy while the other one held him down. With the boy screaming, I hoped Paulie could control his gift. If he acted, he would give us away. I held him and he managed to keep control.

Finally, satisfied with their grisly work, the men got back into the truck and drove away. We waited until they were well out of sight and then crawled over to the weeping boy. When I touched him, he screamed. "Easy son! We're not going to hurt you!"

"Dad, we've got to take him with us. We can't leave him here to die!"

"I know, Paulie. Somehow we'll manage."

The boy was in horrible shape. His body was full of bleeding cuts. They had tied his hands with wire to his genitals. In a final act of savagery, they had smashed both his legs to prevent him from escaping the incoming tide. We did manage to untie his hands, but there wasn't a thing we could do to lessen his pain. We would have to risk swimming on the surface to get back to the sub.

God was truly with us and we finally made it back to the sub. We had to ditch the scuba gear; there wasn't room in the sub for the three of us and it. He was conscious most of the way, but delirious with pain. We did learn that his name was Tim. But he kept calling for another boy named Michael. Once we were beyond the boom net, I risked a call. "Explorer, we're coming home with an extra passenger. Please have a medic standing by."

The crew helped us to unload our burden and tried to make him as comfortable as they could. Except for a shot to put the boy unconscious, there was little else they could do.

I found Paulie sitting on deck, weeping. "How could they do that to Tim. What kind of sick monsters are they?"

"Some of the same ones who tortured you, I fear." I held him close, trying to comfort him, but we both were shaken to the core by what we had seen.

Doug had radioed ahead and when we were close enough to Wellington, Tim was air lifted to Children's Hospital. At our urging, he also contacted Sir Robert's office to tell him what we had found. As soon as we docked, Doug, Paulie and I rushed to the hospital. A surgeon in stained scrubs met us. "I'm sorry, but we couldn't save his legs. I counted six separate breaks in one leg and five in the other. His knees were beaten to a pulp. Whoever did this to him did not want this lad to walk again. We had to amputate above both knees."

A police inspector arrived and we told him the story of how we had come to rescue Tim from certain death.

Later that evening, we were allowed to see Tim for a few minutes. He was conscious, but still groggy. He knew he had lost both legs. But his concern was for his friends still on the island. "Please, please promise me you'll try to rescue them", he pleaded. We told him we would.

We spent an uncomfortable night aboard the Explorer. The next morning, Sir Robert met us at the hospital and we took him to see Tim. Once again, Tim pleaded for the friends he left behind. Sir Robert left the boy's room in tears.

A pale and chastened Sir Robert heard our story and saw the pictures Paulie had taken in the hospital's conference room. Paulie was as angry as I have ever seen him, but in control. "Now do you believe us?" he shouted at Sir Robert. "Now will you help us to rescue these kids? How many more must die?"

Sir Robert endured Paulie's tongue-lashing with difficulty. Then, measuring his words carefully, he replied, "Paulie, Mr. Connor, you have every right to be angry with me and my entire government. We have known something was not right on Onagin for some time. I am deeply ashamed to tell you that we simply ignored the rumors. No apology from me or my government can begin to repay you for the heroic effort you made. But, I assure you my government will act at once."

He then made a few calls while we waited. He soon reported, "I have issued orders for one of our crack units, the Maori Marines, to prepare for an immediate invasion. They will be ready to move within 24 hours. A support force of ships and attack helicopters, accompanied by a fully equipped medical support ship will be ready to sail as soon as the marines are ready. Our Aussie friends will supply combat air cover, should it be needed. While I don't recommend it, I assume, you and your son will want to accompany this force?"

"Yes. Paulie and I made a promise to Tim, we intend to keep."

"Sir Robert, I'm sorry I said all those nasty things."

"No, Paulie, you were quite right and I understand. I hope, in the future, we might be friends,"

Paulie reached across the table to shake Sir Robert's hand. "So do I, sir."

Tim was awake, but sedated when we looked in on him. We told him about the rescue operation and promised to save Michael, if at all possible. Even though he no longer had legs, his expression was one of hope. He had to live and be strong for Michael.

Less than a day later, we were at sea. The commander of the task force, Colonel Julian was not happy to have us along, but he understood why we were there. He did order us to remain aboard the medical ship 3; appropriately named Hope 3; until his men had secured the island, a wholly sensible precaution.

The battle, if you could call it that, lasted about 10 minutes, with most of the guards killed and the rest wounded or captured. Two marines were guarding the ones still alive. Paulie and I stepped down from the copter and made our way to the barracks where the boys were already being freed.

As we passed the group of prisoners, Paulie suddenly stopped. Pointing to one whose legs had been blown off, he said, "Dad! That's the one who torture me in New Mexico!"

I looked at the guard with hatred and almost attacked him. Then I realized, "I said I would make him pay for every bit of pain he caused you. I think he will pay every day for the rest of his life." We hurried on.

In the barracks the boys had been chained to wooden pallets, four high. There was a large pot of some awful gruel at one end. Those nearest could reach it and eat. They had to pass the slop back to the others with their hands. No toilet, the boys had to lie in their own urine and feces until they were unchained the next day.

As the marines released each boy, he was taken outside to a makeshift field hospital, stabilized, wrapped in blankets and airlifted to the medical support ship lying offshore. Some of them were clearly within day or two of dying, emaciated, bruised and battered beyond belief. Most of them were in a daze, seemingly unable to comprehend what was happening to them. One of the older boys' however, gasped, "Don't worry about us! Save the ones in the other building!"

The marine sergeant and two troopers took off at a run. I tried to convince Paulie to stay and help in the barracks, but he wasn't having any of that. Smashing the lock on the outside door, we entered a long hallway with locked cells on each side.

Forcing the lock on the first one, we burst in to horror. A boy, about 11 or so, had been hung by his genitals and left to die! As we learned from the video of the torture, he had started out holding on to the cable to keep the weight off his cock and balls. But, over time, he had weakened and began to have more and more of his weight transferred to them. Finally, he collapsed, and swung with his full weight on his severely stretched boy parts.

One of the marines cut the cable and gently lowered the boy to the table. He felt for a pulse and sadly shook he head. We covered the small body with a blanket and left.

The next cell yielded another horror, albeit a bit more hopeful one. A boy, whom Paulie identified as the one who was dragged off during our reconnaissance of the island, had been hogtied and hung up to die. The records said that he had been in this shape for four days. They wanted to see how long he could survive. Aside from the ever-present welts and bruises, he was very dehydrated, but still alive. Although his arms and legs must have cramped and hurt terribly, he was well beyond that pain.

Paulie helped the two troopers gently lower him and slowly unfold his limbs. The medics arrived and gave him a few sips of water before carrying him out to the field hospital.

In the next cell we met our first situation that could be broadly called a scientific experiment. Even if it was cruel and horrible. After applying sensors to read brain and heart activity and installing a bladder catheter, feeding tube and glucose drip, they sprayed the boy from head to foot with a rubber-like substance several inches thick to induce total sensory deprivation. He could not see, hear, speak or feel anything. The feeding tube and glucose drip kept him alive. Suspending him more or less upright by cables in the covering, they recorded his reactions to see what would be the effect of lack of prolonged sensory input. Would he go crazy or just die? According to the records, he had been in this tomb for more than a week. The monitors showed that he still lived, however.

Unwilling to risk what might happen if we tried to remove the covering prematurely, the medics decided to wait until he could be treated by the specialists at Children's. We simply had not planned for such a case. So we left the technicians to dismantle the whole installation, yet keep it running, for shipment back to Wellington.

Hospital workers later told me it took almost four hours to completely remove the material from his body. He screamed throughout the process. He eventually did recover, but even two years later he could not stand being alone for even a minute and darkness held a special terror for him; either condition freaked him out and led to screaming hysterics. Sadly, he never regained full normalcy.

But it was what we found in the fourth cell, which truly represents the total evil of this place and those who operated it.

The marines and I burst into the cell. One glance was enough. I grabbed Paulie and shouted, "No Paulie! Don't go in there!" But it was too late. He uttered a piercing wail and collapsed onto the floor crying hysterically. I scooped him up into my arms and moved away from the room. He had 'lost it' completely. All his gifts had shut down and he was a crying, trembling, hurt little boy. The two marines took one look and held each other crying as well.

What we all had seen, I hope to never see again in this or any other world. A boy who could have been Paulie's twin had been strapped onto a rack just like he had been in New Mexico. The boy's body had been literally pulled apart. Both of his arms had been completely pulled from his torso, his genitals ripped off, his legs and hips dislocated, his spinal cord severed. The pain he must have endured is unimaginable.

I spent the next ten minutes or so trying to comfort Paulie. Just as he started to come out of it, the marine sergeant came looking for me. "We have found another one alive!" That seemed to snap Paulie back to realty and we followed the trooper to another room of horror.

A boy, whom we found was named Peter, had been crucified on a wooden cross. From the record we found he had been hanging there for almost two days. He was alive, barely. It took the four of us almost 30 minutes to remove the boy from the cross. One of the marines started to carry him out to the aid station, but Paulie stopped him. "Please let me take him. I'll go back to the ship with him." The marine looked at me, I nodded, and he handed Peter to Paulie. I was relieved to get Paulie off the island.

We found one more kid alive. Chained, gagged and blindfolded in one of the cells, he began to shout and plead with us when we removed his gag. "Don't take me to the beach! Please not the beach! I'll do anything you want!" I explained the significance of 'the beach' to the marines. The boy had been severely beaten and left to await his horrible execution, for what offence, God only knows.

We found six more dead kids in that building, victims of unspeakable savagery.

After all the kids, living and dead, had been removed, I went back to the ship, while the marines finished destroying the entire complex. They collected hundreds of pounds of records and videos; these animals documented everything they did to those kids, no matter how perverted or cruel. The causeway to the mainland was obliterated and all communications had been cut at the start of the raid. The injured guards were left for the Lucians to deal with, if they chose to.

Back on shipboard, I found Paulie huddled in a corner on deck, weeping softly. My little boy had been forced to grow up very suddenly. I wished I could have shielded him from what he saw, but knew he would not have understood if I had tried to. "Dad, " he cried, "Peter didn't make it. He died on the way to the ship. He woke up, just before he died and I held him and kissed him. At least he died knowing someone loved and cared for him?" That was more than I could take. We fell into each other's arms and wept.

After a while, Paulie gazed at me and said, "Thank you for not treating me like a little kid and making me stay aboard the ship, even though I behaved like one."

"I sometimes forget you are almost 14 by our years and certainly not a little kid any more. I knew you would experience horrors on the island, but you made a promise to Tim and it was important to you to keep it. As for breaking down when you saw the boy on the rack 3; you probably did not see those two tough marines crying on each other's shoulders. No, Paulie, you did not act like a little kid at all. No person with any kind of humanity could fail to react to that grisly scene. I'm sure you saw yourself as the boy, and it was too much for you to bear. And then you put aside your feelings, your pain to help Peter."

"But Dad! He died! I failed him!"

"No you did not fail him. He could not have survived, but you gave him a precious gift 3; your love. As you said, he died knowing that you cared. Little kid? No! A warm, caring human being who happens to be a teen and the love of my life!"

Medic helicopters began ferrying the kids to Children's Hospital as soon as we were in range. By the time Hope docked in Wellington, all were being cared for. The hospital had made a small suite available for Paulie and me so we could be close to the kids.

The next several days were a blur. Paulie spend his time visiting and comforting the kids. Despite heroic efforts by the staff, we lost three of them. But the remaining 24 became Paulie's full time task. I worked with New Zealand's intelligence community trying to make sense out of the volumes of records that had been captured. Scores of boys that we could not account for were listed on the records. We were forced to conclude they had died or been killed and were fed to the sharks. Every 'experiment' was meticulously documented complete with video. Watching them was more than most of us could bear. While a few of the personnel at the school might have had some scientific training, the chief qualification seemed to be that they enjoyed torturing little boys.

Most nights it was all Paulie and I could do to share what we experienced. Sex was a very low priority with us.

The local and worldwide press and media had been kept out, but were getting more insistent. All kinds of rumors were swirling about. So, finally we agreed with Sir Robert to hold a press conference.

The hospital auditorium room was jammed with TV and print journalists from all over the world. Most of the diplomatic corps were present also. Sir Robert spoke, "Because of the nature of the information we will present this morning, once the conference has started, no one will be permitted to leave until it has concluded. If anyone wishes to leave now you may do so." Guards took up positions at all the exits.

"As many of you know, I am Sir Robert Crowell, Defense Minister of New Zealand. Four days ago, elements of the armed forces of New Zealand supported by those of Australia. Invaded a small island within the territory of the Republic of St Lucia. The purpose of this incursion was to rescue an unknown number of young children who were being held captive and systematically abused there. We had suspected for some time that the so-called Boy's Training School located there was not, as Lucian officials claimed, a school for abandoned young boys from St Lucia, but had some much darker purpose. It is to our everlasting shame that we did not pursue these suspicions long ago as the lives of many innocent young boys might have been saved. The conditions we found on the island were truly appalling, much, much worse than even our most pessimistic beliefs. Young boys between the ages of 10 and 15 were being routinely beaten, starved and subject to all manner of physical, emotional and sexual abuse. We have been unable to account for scores of boys who were sent to the island. Our conclusion, unhappily, is that they perished and their bodies were disposed of by being fed to the sharks which are plentiful in the waters surrounding the island."

There was a noticeable stir in the audience.

"We decided to act at this time based upon hard evidence brought to us by two American citizens visiting us, Daniel and Paulie Connor. Risking their lives, they went to Onagin Island and brought back photographic evidence of the crimes being perpetrated there. They even succeeded in rescuing one of the boys from a slow and painful death 3; an execution, if you will."

More hubbub as Sir Robert's words began to reach the assembly.

"Of the 35 young boys we found on the island, six were already dead from the abuse they suffered, 2 died on the way to hospital and we have lost 3 more here at Children's. The doctors tell me the remaining 24 will recover physically. Whether the will ever recover emotionally and mentally is an open question."

Scattered cries began to be heard.

" I have asked Mr. Connor to tell you how he and his son came to the knowledge of what was happening at Onagin and what we uncovered during the incursion."

Paulie and I stood and walked to the front of the stage and I stood with my arm around him. "I am Daniel Connor and this is my son Paulie. Together we own the Paloma Ranch in the United States. Some of you may have heard of it. Several months ago, Paulie was kidnapped by a group we believe is associated with the anti-terrorism effort in our country. He was taken to a secret facility and tortured to reveal certain information which the abductors considered to be vital to their mission. That he did not possess any such information was completely ignored. A 12-year-old security risk? What a twisted fantasy."

"Fortunately, with the help of local friends, we were able to rescue him before they could do permanent damage to him. We also rescued another boy named Shawn 3; an autistic child 3;who was confined there. We were completely stonewalled by our government when we pressed for explanations and redress. Fearing for their continued safety, Paulie and Shawn fled to New Zealand and I joined them a few weeks ago."

"It was after they were in New Zealand, that Shawn told Paulie about Onagin Island. He had been held there before being taken to the secret facility in our country and described in shocking detail, what was being done to the boys on Onagin."

Paulie took over, "What Shawn told me was simply horrible. Whippings, beatings, no food or doctors, and all kinds of terrible experiments. I could hardly believe him, but I could tell that he wasn't making it up. I promised him I would rescue his friends if it was the last thing I would ever do. He died that same day. He had lived long enough to carry this message to me." He wiped a tear from his eye, an action being copied by many of our audience, and slipped backstage.

"We could describe in grisly detail what we found at the island and you will all receive a complete report of our findings as you leave today. But we though you might like to meet a few of the boys we rescued and let their stories tell you what they went thru."

Peter's initial file picture was flashed on the giant screen. A smiling, good-looking boy of about 11. "Peter came to Onagin about 2 years ago after his family was murdered by drug dealers. He was selected for one of their diabolical experiments. This how we found him!" The smiling boy was replaced by the same boy being crucified.

The hall erupted in shouts and cries.

"My son personally carried him from the island, but, unfortunately, Peter died before we could get him to hospital. As Paulie put it, 'At least he died knowing that someone loved and cared for him.' He was tenderly laid to rest yesterday, with his other friends whom we could not save, in a special plot in The Queen's Park in Wellington. The simple inscription reads, 'We will not forget you'."

Many in the audience were openly crying by this time. Paulie arrived back on stage accompanied by Tim in his wheelchair and Daniel, walking with difficulty and towing an intravenous pole.

"This is Tim, the boy we rescued during our clandestine visit to Onagin. He had displeased the director of the 'school' and was about to be executed. After beating him savagely, they dumped him onto the beach and then smashed his legs so he could not escape the incoming tide. If we had not discovered him, he would have drowned or been taken by a shark. As you can see, he has lost both legs."

The entire audience sat weeping in shock.

Paulie steered Daniel to the front of the platform and slipped off his gown. "Daniel has bravely agreed to show you what they did to him every day." He slowly rotated Daniel so everyone could see the hundreds of welts and cuts all over every inch of his small body.

I continued, "He would tell you about what they did to him, but unfortunately, he can no longer speak. These sadists cut out his vocal cords so he could not cry when they whipped him every day. It also kept him from screaming when they castrated him!"

Almost to a person, the audience was crying, many of them hysterically. I knelt and took both Tim and Daniel gently into my arms, "Thank you both for being so brave and showing your injuries to these people. They will see that the word learns what happened to you and all the others who suffered on Onagin Island." Paulie led them backstage. And there was a short break while the audiences and participants recovered.

"Thank you Mr. Connor and you too, Paulie and Tim and Daniel. The question every one of you must have is, 'What was the purpose of Onagin Island.' From the records we have captured, it appears its sole reason for being was to provide a pool of young victims on whom they could experiment without justification or fear of being held accountable. These were orphans and since none of them ever left Onagin alive, who was to know?"

"We also have unimpeachable evidence that this facility, while condoned by the government of St Lucia, was not at all under their control. It was established, financed and controlled by a secret organization within the Department of Homeland Security of the United States of America."

It took 10 minutes to restore order again.

"The ambassadors of the 26 members of the Commonwealth and their Nato partners are, at this hour, delivering angry notes to the US State Department, demanding that those responsible for these atrocities be identified, apprehended and delivered to the International Court of Justice in The Hague. In the meantime, we will continue our efforts to return to their victims, the childhood which has been so brutally ripped from them."

"Press attachés are available to answer any questions you may have. One absolute we must insist upon: none of the children may be interviewed and we will not release personal information about any of them. This conference is closed." We gratefully escaped, leaving the press people in a mad scramble.

That evening we had dinner with Sir Robert at his home. Part way through, a servant papered. "Mr. Connor, you have a telephone call."

"Tell them I'll call them back," I said, annoyed.

"I think you had better take it. It's your President." I excused myself.

"Mr. Connor, this is President Stark. I deeply regret your news conference last evening. What can I do to help these poor children? I hope you don't think I had anything to do with what happened to them."

"Mr. Stark," I refused to use his title, "there is nothing you can do that would even begin to atone for the atrocities these kid have suffered at the hands of your administration. There is an election in two weeks and I am quite certain the American people will render their judgment. I believe you and your corrupt administration will be found wanting." And I hung up on him.

The American people did, indeed, find the President and his entire party wanting. They administered a crushing defeat. Every one of the Presidents party lost.

It took about nine months for the political situation in the US to sort itself out. By that time, the former Vice President, several cabinet secretaries and over one hundred lesser officials (including our friend Sullivan) had been convicted of crimes ranging from conspiracy to murder and kidnapping. Every one of them who escaped rough prison justice would end their days behind bars.

In the meantime, we had work to do. Although the New Zealand government and people would have opened their hearts and homes to the kids, we decided they would need a special place where they might recover from their ordeals. So, we set about creating one for them 3; at Paloma Ranch.

We formed a foundation, funded by, but separate from the ranch. Armando and I had lengthily conversations about the kind of new construction required: six cottages for the kids and house parents, a greatly expanded school and medical facilities. He was enthusiastic and set to work making them a reality. He put Tony in charge of seeing that things were done right and I knew we could count on him.

With the aid of John Howard, we identified a number of well-qualified persons to run the whole operation. From the list, Paulie and I chose Paul Simon, from the well-regarded Milton Hershey School in Pennsylvania. By no coincidence we based the design for the cottages on those in use at Hershey. We flew Dr. Simon to Wellington where Paulie and I both interviewed him. We took him to see some of the recovering boys. He was shaken, but eager to accept our challenge. The result was our unanimous agreement that Paul Simon was exactly the kind of person to head up 'Paloma Hope', the name Paulie gave to our new enterprise. Paul's first task would be to hire the staff 3; house parents, counselors and therapists. His instructions from us were, "Get the very best." He didn't disappoint us.

While I wrestled with the organizational and business details, Paulie continued his one-man healing mission with the kids. One afternoon he appeared in my 'office' with Michael in tow. "We have a surprise for you, Dad."

"Oh?"

"Hi Mr. Dan! Yeah, I can talk again," Michael croaked. "And they gave me a new set of balls, too." And he proceeded to show me.

I was pleased beyond words, and swept the boy into my arms. "Oh Michael, I'm so happy for you!"

"I thought you'd be pleased, Dad. He couldn't wait to show you."

Later that evening, Paulie told me the story of where Michael's new body parts had come from. A sad story, but one full of hope after all. Life goes on!

One evening a few weeks later, Paulie seemed a bit upset about something. Our lovemaking wasn't quite as usual. But, if something was bothering him, I knew would tell me about it in his own time. He lay on top of me on his stomach as we enjoyed the afterglow of our lovemaking. Finally, he said to me, "Dad, I've something to tell you. You'll probably be mad at me."

I couldn't imagine what it could be. He had been working himself to exhaustion every day with the kids. "Let's hear it."

"Michael came to me today with a problem. His voice seems to be working fine, but he wanted to know how he could tell if his other repair was working. I couldn't think of any other way to find out, so I 3;"

"You didn't?" I asked trying to stifle my laugh.

"Yeah, I sucked him off."

"And?"

"They work fine, He gave me quite a mouthful. And then he insisted on doing me."

"Why would you think I would be mad at you?"

"Because I had sex with someone else," he said defensively.

"Paulie, you responded to the need of a young boy who has had a terrible ordeal that he is only now beginning to recover from. Far from being angry, I admire you for what you did. Was it difficult for you?"

"Yeah, it was. I kept thinking you wouldn't approve. When we were finished, he asked if we could do it again sometime."

"What did you tell him?"

"I said he should find a friend his own age who he trusts and they could do it together."

'That was exactly the right thing. My son the sex therapist," I chuckled. "My brave, beautiful, caring boy!"

"Thanks, Dad," he said, his relief obvious. I answered by holding him close and kissing him.

For some time, Richard Dimble, TVNZ's premier news host had been after us for a follow-up interview, and I decided that it would feature Paulie and Michael. Paulie (the little ham) was pleased and excited to be on television. The interview would take place in the Children's Hospital Media Center.

The crew arrived and set up, and both boys met Richard and were prepped. Michael had grown used to running around naked while his wounds healed so we sometimes had trouble keeping clothes on him, but both boys were dressed in sport shirts and shorts and looked simply stunning. I would watch from the director's booth.

"Good morning from Children's Hospital in Wellington. I'm Richard Dimble and I have as my guests' two charming young men you may have met before. With his father Daniel, Paulie Connor, was largely responsible for our government rescuing over two score young boys from a truly horrible prison off the coast of Santa Lucia. Welcome, Paulie. I see you have brought a friend."

"Than you for inviting us, Mr. Dimble. This is Michael, one of the boys we rescued. You probably remember him showing us how badly he was treated on Onagin Island. He was covered with sores and couldn't tell us what happened because they had removed his vocal cords 3; and hurt him in other ways. He has a surprise for us. Hi, Michael."

"Hi Paulie!" Michael answered to nearly everyone's amazement. "Yeah, I can talk again. The doctors gave me a new set of vocal cords and they work fine." So far all was going as planned.

Michael's next statement was not to plan! He stood up, whipped down his shorts and briefs, pointed his little prick directly at the camera and declared, "And they gave me a new set of balls, and they work just fine, too."

The expression on Dimble's face was priceless! Paulie just rolled his eyes and dissolved into a fit of giggles. The rest of us were in hysterics.

Michael looked around with sort of a shit-face grin, then asked with perfectly straight face, "Did I say something wrong?"

Between giggles Paulie managed to croak, "Come here you rascal." He wrapped his arms around Michael, leaving only his bare ass facing the camera. "No, you just told the whole truth."

At this point, the director had recovered sufficiently to stop the interview. We all took a few minutes to recover our senses, and for Paulie to re-dress Michael. When the interview resumed, he was seated next to Paulie prim and proper.

Paulie explained how Michael's new parts had come from a young teen who had been killed in a skiing accident. His mother had seen our earlier press conference and specifically made her son's organs available to Michael. The family had met Michael, following the transplants. Paulie's voice broke as he related the mother's comment to Michael, "As long as you live, Michael, I will know my son lives within you."

'This is certainly an exciting and heart-warming story," replied Richard. "And I thank you both for being here this morning. This is Richard Dimble, with Paulie and (snicker) Michael from Children's Hospital, Wellington." And the interview was over.

Paulie took Michael in hand and they left to go to his therapy session. I turned to the director and said, "Well, I guess you'll have some editing to do, won't you?"

"Mr. Connor," he replied, "Unless you object, I will not cut one second. Such innocence! " (Not bloody likely, I thought.) "We will show it this evening just as is. If anyone is offended, that's their problem." We shook hands and he left, still chortling. "Well, the name Richard Dimble will be famous," I told the bemused interviewer." "It's not often I get completely upstaged by a ten-year-old, but it was worth every minute of it," he smiled.

And so, Michael's new balls went round the world. The interview was picked up by virtually every TV outlet on the planet with almost no objections. The chairman of the FCC, a holdover from the previous administration, threatened to fine any station in the US that showed it, but hundreds of them collectively thumbed their noses at him and showed it anyway. The President promptly sacked him. Christian Family Focus started a massive protest, only to have their contributions drop to almost zero in the months after. "Aha!" I thought, "There's hope for us yet!"

A few days after the 'interview' Paulie came into my work room with a sheepish half-grin on his face.

"Dad, we've got a problem. It's Michael again. He says he's found a partner."

"Well, that's good. He didn't waste any time, did he? What's the problem?"

"He and his partner want to spend the night with us and learn how to make love."

Panic seized me. "What did you tell him?'

"That I'd have to ask you."

"Paulie, I don't think we can do this. It wouldn't be 3;"

"Dad, you were right about Michael. He is recovering from major injuries, physical and mental. He swears his partner and he are truly in love and he wants to know how they can express that love. Do you remember how my parents accepted and encouraged us?"

This was my little son, all grown up, talking! "Paulie, you know I would do anything for you. If this is something, you really want 3; Besides, you're right, we need to help them express their feelings for each other."

"I knew I could count on you!" And he swept me into his arms.

So it was, the next evening, there was a discrete know on our door as we were starting to get ready for bed. We were in pj's so I went to the door.

There was Michael, with his 'special friend' in tow. It was a very nervous Tim, the boy we had rescued from the beach. No surprise, there!

"Come in," I invited, and directed the two very nervous boys to sit on my bed. "What would you like us to do?"

"Mr. Dan, Michael and I are truly in love, but we don't know much about sex and how two boys do it."

"Well guys, before we get to that, there's some things we need to discuss."

"First of all, what we talk about and might do tonight cannot be discussed with anyone. And I mean NO ONE! And our time together tonight will not be repeated, for you or anyone else." Both boys nodded that they understood. "I have a few questions for you and the answers will determine whether we continue." Again the boys nodded.

"Do you trust each other, I mean completely without any conditions?"

"Oh yes!" they answered in unison.

"Let me tell you about trust. Before I was permitted to adopt Paulie, together we had to show that we trusted each other completely. The test involved my causing Paulie a great deal of pain. Pain he never imagined before and has never felt since. Paulie had to trust me that this was something I could do and continue to love him afterward and I had to trust him that he would continue to love me afterward. It was a difficult and frightening ordeal for both of us. If it were necessary, could you do the same for each other?"

Their reply astounded me. "Been there, done that!"

"Really? Tell me about it."

Tim started, "When I first arrived on the island, there was this little guy who seemed to be the guards whipping boy. No matter what he did, they whipped him. I tried to help him when we worked in the fields, but the guards still continued to punish him unfairly. Then, they started to whip him every day hanging on a frame in front of our barracks. They said he was being punished for all of us. He screamed and cried for the first couple of days, so they took a knife and jammed it down his throat and cut his vocal cords. Every day after he was whipped, they marched the rest of us unto the barracks and chained us for the night. He was left hanging there until they decided to throw him into the barracks, too. Everyone was afraid the try to help him. Finally, I couldn't stand it, so I stopped and took him down from the frame. One of the guards, beat me for that, but I was able to make it into the barracks with Michael over my shoulder. After that, the guards didn't bother me and it became my job to take him down and carry him in.

He was always bloody and usually unconscious. I tried to clean him up and saw to it he got something to eat. The other guys began to help me."

"Tim was the first person since I was on the island to show that he cared what happened to me," added Michael. "He tried to heal my cuts and bruises 3; he would rub some of our food on me and that helped. After we ate, he would hold me and we would sleep together. He was the most important person in my life. He actually loved me!"

"And I grew to love Michael. When he suffered, I suffered too. It was all I could do to watch his daily beating. The other kids began to cry right along with me."

"Then, one day I couldn't take it any longer and I did something really dumb. I jumped the guard who was beating him and knocked him down. I wanted to save Michael further pain. The guards, of course, made short work of me and dragged me off to be punished. I had failed to help Michael and simple got myself fucked up."

"They beat me for three days and then took me to the beach where you found me. The whole time they were beating me 3; even when they smashed my legs 3; I could stand the physical pain. I was ready to die. The real pain was that I had failed Michael."

"When the other boys told me what had happened to Tim, my life was over! Even though they took over and tried to help me, the boy I loved was gone. I would never see him again!. I would never feel his touch again. He would be killed for trying to help me!" Michael sobbed. After a while, he recovered and continued. "Even when they cut my balls off, I didn't care. The only pain I felt was for Tim. He was dead!"

"When you guys rescued me and promised to rescue the others, I started to have a little hope. I made up my mind I would be strong for Michael, whether I had legs or not. The night all the kids were brought in, I fought with my nurses, until they told me that Michael was among them. After every one was more or less settled, I talked one of the orderlies into taking me to see Michael. When I saw him at last, my prayers had been answered."

"The orderly let me stay with him for the night. After he left, I somehow managed to pull myself onto the bed with him. I had to be careful not to screw up his intravenous lines, but, at last I cold take him into my arms and we slept together."

"When the shots they gave me began to wear off and I got awake, I knew there was someone beside me and I knew right away it was Tim. At first I really thought I had died and this was heaven. But, when Tim kissed me, I realized I was alive and Tim was alive 3; a miracle had happened and we were together again. We just held each other and cried 3; for hours, I think. It was the happiest day of my life."

"Mine too!"

Paulie and I were in tears. I had never heard such an inspiring story before. "You two, are truly in love, no doubt about it and you trust each other like no one else I have ever heard of. The way you came through it all reminds me of a song I learned many years ago. Whether you know it or not it is your song."

"I would be true, for there are those who trust me! I would be pure, for there are those who care! I would strong, for there is much to suffer! I would be brave, for there is much to dare!

"Your courage and love is incredible!"

"What would you like us to show you?"

"How you and Paulie make love."

"Well, you understand that our love is a very private thing and yours should be too. I'm not sure how we'll do with an audience, but OK. I should mention, too, if you only have sex with each other you never have to worry about AIDS.

"The first thing that Paulie and I do is to strip each other." Paulie stood up and faced me with his arms upraised as he had so many times. I slowly pulled his top off, pausing to rub his chest and tweak his nipples.

"And he always plays with my nipples. Ooooo! I like that; it always makes me hard!"

I slowly removed his shorts and his lovely prick sprang into view. I bent down and took it into my mouth for a few strokes while he shook and squealed. Then Paulie repeated the operation for me.

Pulling him into my lap where I could fondle and stroke him, I said to our rapt audience, "Now you do the same."

Michael got up and while Tim remained seated, and helped him to remove his prostheses. Then he pulled off Tim's top. "Play with his nipples. All boys like having their nipple touched. Squeeze them a little."

Tim sucked in his breath and closed his eyes. Clearly, he liked what Michael was doing. After a minute or two, Michael knelt in front of him. "Do me, now," he commanded. Tim obliged and Michael's whole body shook, "Let's get naked," he gasped.

Tim raised his butt with some difficulty so Michael could slip his shorts down and off, and then removed his partner's last clothing. Two very hard pricks pointed at each other.

"Have you ever played with each other's cock and balls?"

"Yeah, a little."

"How did it feel?"

"Super!"

"Tim, take Michael onto your lap and stroke him like I'm doing to Paulie,"

Tim did and Michael wiggled in his lap with a dreamy look, but breathing hard."

"Uh, Dad, you better ease up a bit." So I returned to pulling and tweaking Paulie's nipples. I let our 'students' go on for a while and then asked, "Michael, do you remember what Paulie did to you the other week."

"Yeah! He sucked me! That was the best thing I ever felt."

"Have the two of you tried that?"

"No, we couldn't figure out how we could both do it at the same time."

"That's called 'sixty-nine', said Paulie. "We'll teach you how to do it. Michael, get up for a minute. Tim, you lie on the bed on your back; help him get settled, Michael. Now you get on top of him so your cock and balls are at his mouth and so you can reach his prick with your mouth. You'll have to raise your butt a bit, Michael, so you don't suffocate poor Tim."

"Now, put your mouths around those pricks and suck and lick them like a pop cycle. Use your tongues a lot. You can squeeze each other's balls gently."

The boys set to with enthusiasm. Watching those two little stud-muffins go at each other was almost too much. "Dad!" whispered Paulie, "if you don't stop, I'm going to cum all over you!" I removed my hands again.

Almost simultaneously, the two boys stiffened and drove their pricks completely into each other and began to furiously pump their boy loads. "Swallow, guys, swallow," I admonished.

For a while the two of them just lay there completely spent. Michael rolled off Tim and gradually they both caught their breaths.

"How was that?"

"It felt soooooo good!" gasped Tim.

"It's super, super, super!" echoed his partner.

After resting a while, Michael set up and asked, "Paulie, can I suck you off?"

Paulie glanced at me, I nodded, and he got up, walked to his bed and lay down on it. Michael crawled over to him, engulfed his prick and quickly brought him to a shattering orgasm. He swallowed every drop. It was OK, I knew Paulie would take care of me later. I was not at all prepared for what came next.

"Mr. Dan," asked Tim, "would you let me take care of you?" It took me a minute to mull that around. What the hell, why not."

"You don't have to do that, Tim' but if you really want to, I would be honored." Paulie and Michael helped Tim get into position between my legs and Tim set to work. His technique wasn't the best, but he soon drove me over the top.

After that, we sat and talked about love and sex until it was bedtime. Paulie and I slept apart that night, each cuddling another little naked body: Michael with Paulie and Tim with me. The two boys were asleep almost instantly. As I gazed at the sleeping boy lying atop me, I thought what a beauty he was. His upper body was beginning to develop from propelling himself on crutches. He had a slim waist and bubble butt, just like Paulie. His legs would have been long and lovely 3; I shed a tear for what might have been. Michael, on the other hand, would always be small and wiry.

When I awoke the next morning, it was to the feeling of a mouth again on my prick. "Just saying 'thank you' for everything you've done for Michael and me."

At long last came the date for our return to America. The people of New Zealand had welcomed us and sustained us and would have been willing to go on indefinitely, but we all agreed our little band needed to return home. Conditions in America had settled out to where that was not only possible, but advisable. The new administration was eager to erase the stain of its predecessor.

We had the new 'House Parents' flown to Wellington, so they could get to know their new 'families'. And they would accompany them on the flight home. Most of the kids were able to walk again, but a few were still in wheelchairs, still recovering from major surgery.

The night before our departure, New Zealand wanted to celebrate our time with them. It is often said the 'Kiwis' are more British than Britain and the British know how to order up pomp and ceremony like no other people. So, it was no surprise when Sir Robert had called on me some days earlier and announced a formal state dinner in our honor. He hinted that some knightships would be presented.

I was flattered, but felt a bit awkward. He insisted, "You have no idea how much trouble we have had with your government agreeing and I'll be damned if I'll let all that hard work go to waste! We werem't even allowed to do this for Eisenhower. Had to give him that bloody castle in Scotland, instead. Don't worry, you won't be asked to swear allegiance to the Queen."

So, I agreed to our being honored, with this condition, "If you really must include the both of us, please do me privately. I want the dinner to be Paulie's night. After all, it was he who suffered pain and terror in New Mexico and barely escaped maiming or death. It was he and little Shawn who had to flee home and kin to an unknown place. It was he to whom Shawn chose to deliver his message. It was he who carried one of the most brutally injured boys from that inferno and held him in his arms in his last moments. It was he who broadcast that message to the world. No, this was Paulie's quest from the very beginning; I was just fortunate to be there for him and able to aid him."

Sir Robert sighed, picked up the phone and spoke briefly. Satisfied his instructions had been discharged, he sort of dragged me to the office to the Governor General. As the official representative of the Queen, that worthy performed an ancient ceremony and I left his office as 'Sir Daniel Connor, KBE. Our agreement was that Paulie would receive his due publicly and mine would only be 'announced.'

Two days before the dinner, the tailors descended upon us, measured every part of us (well, almost every part) and departed. The afternoon of the dinner, our new duds were delivered: formal dress tartans in Clan Connor colors complete with dress kilt, silver-buckled boots, silver-buttoned jacket 3; the whole shebang!

Paulie immediately raised hell about being asked to wear a 'skirt'. He agreed, reluctantly, after I explained the significance of it and some of the history of Clan Connor 3; fortunately a brochure was included with the outfit. "Besides," I said, "It will show off your pretty legs."

He made a face and barricaded himself in his own room to dress.

When he emerged, he took my breath away. Where had my little boy gone? This was Sir William Wallace or Robert the Bruce ready to stand forth for the honor of Scotland.

"You were right," he smirked, eyeing me in my kilt. "My legs are prettier than yours."

An open top limo called for us and we were driven slowly through the streets of Wellington to Government House. Our ride had been announced in advance and It seemed like every citizen had turned out to say goodbye.

Carefully avoiding tripping over our swords, we gratefully surrendered them to the majordomo 3; no weapons allowed in a State Dinner 3; and were escorted to the honor table. Paulie was seated to the right of our friend Sir Robert and I was on his right, next to the Prime Minister. The entire diplomatic corps were present as were almost the entire government.

We were surprised and delighted when two small boys, one of them struggling to walk unaided, were also settled next to Colonel Julian, among the dignitaries: Tim and Michael, looking very grown-up in their Maori Marines Dress Uniforms. They were having a problem with what to do with their 'swagger sticks'. The Colonel came to their rescue. Paulie and I exchanged questioning glances. Sir Robert just smirked; he was enjoying our confusion immensely.

After a lavish dinner, Sir Robert acted as master-of-ceremonies. He first introduced Colonel Julian who took his place at the dais.

"We have with us tonight, two young men who merit special praise." Most everyone present knew their story. "They fought fiercely over many months to try to save each other and the rest of their comrades, at odds that most of us cannot imagine and will never have to face. During their struggle, each suffered grievous injuries. With the blessing of Her Majesty the Queen, we are reinstating an old and honored rank within the regiment and have set aside the provision that members of the regiment must have Maori blood. You may be interested to know, every member of the regiment has enthusiastically indicated their approval. Sergeant-major, please escort the recruits."

I recognized the sergeant as one of the two troopers who had cried so bitterly on the island. He motioned for Michael to joint him and helped Tim to his feet. Tim was determined to walk without crutches and they both soon stood before the Colonel.

"Michael Anthony Brown and Timothy Weldon Smith, we are honored to induct you into the Maori Marine Regiment. Will you agree to serve the Regiment with honor and courage, if you may be called to action, for as long as you both shall live."

Both boys swallowed, "Yes sir!"

"Then by the grace of Her Majesty, I declare you enrolled in this regiment on this date with the rank of ensign. Sergeant-Major, please pin the symbols of that rank on their tunics." He did so, rendering each of them a salute. The boys returned his salute and then faced the Colonel again. They snapped him a salute which would make a West-Pointer proud. They faced about to great applause, then, fell into each other's arms. That might not have been protocol, but it was entirely appropriate.

As they returned to their places, Paulie whispered to me, "At least Michael didn't show him his new body parts." Just wait, I thought, your turn is next.

A chair 3; more accurately a throne 3; was brought on stage and the Governor-General, took his seat.

Sir Robert, "There is a young man with us tonight who is the very reason we are met here. Paulie Connor has personally experience the pain and terror felt by the captives we freed from Onagin Island. It was he whom another captive chose to bear witness to the horrible crimes being committed there. It was he who fulfilled a promise to end those crimes. During that operation, he was forced to witness scenes no human being, let along a thirteen-year-old youth, should have to witness. He personally carried one of the most seriously injured boys from the island and held him in his arms with love and caring during his last moments in this life. For his service and courage, we will be eternally thankful. Paulie, please come and kneel before the Governor General."

He got up in a daze, but managed to make it to the dais. Two pages in full livery appeared, one carrying a huge sword and the other a white sash and stood on either side of the Governor.

The Governor took the sword and touched each of the kneeling boy's shoulders and then placed the sash over his right one, "By the grace of God, and by order of Her Majesty, the Queen, I, Sir Edward Phillips, acting in Her stead, declare that you are Sir Paulie mac Selden mac Daniel of the Clan Connor, Knight of the British Empire. Please rise Sir Paulie and receive the approbation of your peers."

Paulie was clearly stunned! He rose and faced about to thunderous applause. His little boy face shining 3; what young boy doesn't dream of being a Knight. It was an expression I had seen only twice before 3; when he was presented with his Scout Troop neckerchief and at his Naming a year later.

Once the applause had died down, he turned to Sir Edwin. "Please sir, but you're forgetting someone. I couldn't have done any of this without my dad! He should be honored more than me."

"He already has, Paulie." Gesturing to me, "I give you Sir Daniel Connor, KBE."

"You mean he's a knight too?" Sir Edward nodded. Paulie strode over to me, grabbed me by the arm and dragged me to the dais, where we again were vigorously applauded. I had been told to be prepared to give a few remarks.

"This is a joyous occasion, but tinged with sadness. Tomorrow, we will leave a gracious land and return to the land of our birth. We go with thanks in our hearts for your hospitality and kindness and with the faith that we can undo some of the terrible hurt suffered by these innocent children. But some of them will not return with us. Eleven of them sleep in a special place in Queens Park and I would ask you to remember them tonight: Marcus, Sebastian, Julian, Nico, Timo, Chris, Jan, Lucas, David, Doug and Peter. A twelfth boy, Shawn, looks out from his resting place overlooking Lake Urewera. To them we pledge, 'We will never forget you'! Paulie and I bid you farewell and hope to return often to be among you. Please know that you will always be welcome at Paloma Ranch."

Tim, Michael and Paulie were hugged at least twice be everyone in the room. I was hugged and had my hand shaken bt everyone. As the affair broke up, the new American Ambassador, John Hightower, motioned me aside. "The Starlifters are on the ground, I have just been informed. So everything should be ready for your departure tomorrow evening." I thanked him, found Paulie and escaped to our hospital-supplied room for the last time. The Starlifters would carry us to Fort Clark where a fleet of helicopters would be standing by to ferry us all to Paloma.

Paulie and I flew in the first helicopter, accompanied by the ever irrepressible Michael and Tim. Their new house parents knew about their 'special friendship'; they not only understood and approved, but encouraged them. "Look!" shouted Michael, "A real ranch with real horses. I can't wait to go riding!"

At touchdown, Paulie lifted Tim down so he could get his balance and the three of them advanced to a tumultuous welcome. They were simply mobbed by the kids of the community 3; their big brother, their hero had returned 3; and hugged by kids and adults alike. I jumped down to a bit more sedate, but no less fervent welcome: Armando and Marie and Tony, John Howard, Joe Harsh, Nurse Susan, my sister Carolyn and her boys, and even Bob Justy. He had supplied several squads of troops to help Joe's deputies keep the press and others out of our hair. Tony hugged me so hard I was breathless, and then hurried off be with his best friend.

After handshakes and hugs all around, we stood off to the side as each copter landed and disgorged its precious cargo, with many hands ready to welcome both the kids and their 'parents' and get them settled in their new life at Paloma.

As we stood there watching the spectacle, I felt an urgent tugging. There was little Pedro, looking up at me with his big brown eyes. "Please Señor Dan, is the little boy who was hurt and could not talk, not coming back?" Somehow he knew! I knelt and gathered him into my arms.

"No Pedro. He has gone to a better place where he has many friends and they speak to each other all the time."

A single tear rolled down Pedro's cheek. He thought for a moment, then, "That is good," he agreed, "Everyone should have many friends. I will miss him, but I am happy for him. But I am even more happy that you and Paulie have come back to us."

I hugged this trusting little boy who had comforted me while Paulie and I were separated. I looked up to Serena and his papa beaming down on us. And then it became real. These were my people, my family! We were HOME!

Epilogue

Our original 24 'students' have all grown up: many of them have stayed at the Ranch to raise their families and serve as house-parents and counselors, and a few as ranch hands. Michael and Tim are house-parents for some of our most special needs kids; they have never 'lost' a boy assigned to them. Others have gone on to careers elsewhere; one of them is currently the governor of our state.

Every year, on the anniversary of their rescue, Paulie and I fly to Wellington and visit the little grove of trees on the hill behind Urewera Station and the special place in Queens Park. It is our way of telling these boys whom we could not save, they will never be forgotten.

Tony did gallop off to Mexico to rescue his damsel-in-distress and he and Cassie now have two wonderful teen-aged girls. He has taken over as Foreman from Armando after his retirement; something I have to remind Armando of every so often. Marie absolutely refuses to 'retire' from her kitchens.

'Little Pedro' is now 'Big Pedro'. After several very successful years on the rodeo circuit, he returned to teach horsemanship to our boys. He can still bulldog with the best of them, but his touch with our students is as gentle as a butterfly.

Nephew Jonathan had a very successful career as a commercial artist, before he want back to school for a degree in art therapy and he now heads up that discipline for our school. His brother David and his mother spend several weeks with us every summer.

The foundation continues to admit new students as the older ones 'graduate'. They come from the worst possible situations of abuse and neglect. We can't claim 100 percent success 3; we've had a few suicides and other disappointments with a few boys who were just too damaged to save 3; but our successes vastly outnumber our failures. Our program has become known worldwide and is often copied.

Paulie has adopted a little boy from our program. His name is 3; Shawn. With his dark hair, wiry build and flashing eyes his resemblance to that other Shawn long ago is uncanny. I have to remind myself that he is not THAT Shawn 3; but then, maybe he is. Paulie was a miracle. Why should I doubt that there could be another one? Why could this not be that other Shawn, returned to us so he could have the life which was so brutally taken from him? Paulie is skeptical, but I believe! Strangely, our records do not show how he came to us. One day he was just there!

He was also autistic. But, by shear force of his love, Paulie unlocked him from that dark prison and he is now a bright, sparkling eleven-year-old. Paulie's gift may be the cure for autism that has been so long sought.

So, there's now a little naked body nestled between us at night. He has his hands 3; and mouth 3; full keeping both of us satisfied. He gives himself to both of us with love and enthusiasm.

It's been a wild ride! Nothing I could have dreamed up in my wildest fantasies could have matched this adventure. No one could have come close to my Paulie and the world we share with each other. Not bad for an old geezer with a trick knee!

The end