Paolo

Max
The Illustrated Boy

San Carlos Island story #5

Chapter 1
"What the Hell Do I Do?"

In his arms, the small bundle moved.

"Do you want me to take him?" The lady asked, as she strapped the toddler into his car seat.

"No," the man replied, gently unwrapping the blanket to reveal the smiling face of an infant. The baby then reached up, grabbed the man's collar, and pulled. The baby laughed, exposing the brightly colored ink of the man's skin hidden by his suit. The ink didn't extend to his face, however, and no one had seen it at the funeral.

It itched, the suit. Not used to wearing clothing, except for a pair of soft satin shorts when he was at work, the man fidgeted almost as much as the baby in his arms. He kissed the child, holding him close, and sighed. As they rode on, he wondered how he was going to balance work, a baby, and his life in general now. Always before, it had only been himself and his friends and work.

Now, all of that had changed.

As they rode on, with the toddler in his car seat giggling and smacking the window glass, the man's mind went back to his own childhood when 3; 3; 3;

3; 3; 3;no one had wanted him. His distant and often absent mother had died when he was nine, and his aloof and uncaring father had remarried his secret mistress almost at once. Then his father had taken ill about a year later. It was fast, the disease, something genetic that he – as a child – had never really cared to find out about. All he remembered was being told that he wasn't a carrier and needn't worry about it. And then his daddy had died. Not that it mattered; he'd never paid much attention to his son, and being sick had only made it worse. A year later, and the stepmother was remarried.

And the new guy hated the boy.

Almost as soon as the honeymoon was over, and the proper papers of custody finalized, the man had found himself all of ten years old then, almost eleven, and being told that he was being sent away to boarding school.

It had only been a half truth.

The man, remembering the boy he'd once been, would only learn the real truth when the long plane ride was over. He was going to live on a place called San Carlos Island, he found out, a beautiful tropical resort in the South Pacific where hundreds of other boys lived and worked and went to school.

But it wasn't a boarding school, as they'd told him.

It was a resort.

It was a resort that catered to rich men who liked little boys.

Those who liked little boys a lot.

They came there to have sex with them, at that awful place, as he had first thought of the Island. And they hadn't just sent him to school – they'd sold him as a slave. He found out when he arrived there, on that Island, that his stepparents had been paid two million credits for him.

They'd sold him.

And he wasn't ever going home.

They'd sold him into sexual slavery, and by the time he'd figured it all out, he was already on the Island with no hope whatsoever of escape.

As soon as he'd gotten off of the plane, security guards had taken his one suitcase and ordered him to strip naked. Another man had then snapped a round, thick red monofilament collar around his neck, telling him that it would never come off unless released by Island Security. In time, it would be exchanged for a gold collar when he was to be trained. After that, it would be replaced by a green one. But for as long as he stayed on the Island, the collar would be around his neck. And other than sandals for being outside where his bare feet might be hurt, it was the only thing he would ever wear.

The men who visited the Island, which was more nudist than it was clothing-optional, liked it that way, the man who'd locked him in a slave's collar had told him.

And so naked, humiliated, and hurt beyond words that he'd been lied to and sold into slavery, Devon remembered following the man, in a daze, back to his office. The man who seemed to be in charge there had told him he'd be very well taken care of, and that he'd want for nothing. Even his schooling and college would be paid for, so long as he was a good boy, and did his work well. He'd even spoken nicely to him, hugged and kissed him, and tried to make him feel better. Then they'd taken pictures of him – naked of course, and then a doctor had gone all over him and tested him and done things to him that made him cry.

They'd washed him, trimmed his hair, pumped fizzy water up his butt, and then washed him again with red soap that burned his skin. But they also did things that made him feel good – strange things, involving putting tubes up in his penis and up his butt, and touching something deep inside of him by the doctor putting his finger up the boy's butt to 'test it'. Whatever the doctor had tested, Devon remembered thinking, had almost made him feel like he'd die of pleasure, it had felt so good. Then he'd awakened in a private room in the hospital on the Island the next day, wondering if he was sick or not. But the doctor told him he was fine – perfectly healthy in every way.

It was then that they'd told him about the sex.

The men came to the Island to have sex with the boys.

Devon hadn't believed it, until they'd shown him a video of a young man in a gold collar having sex with another boy in a red collar. And then the doctor had taken him to meet 'the general population'.

Only then had an already-stunned Devon fully found out what was in store for him.

Upon entering the cafeteria, or mess hall, as some called it, Devon got his first look at his 'classmates'.

They looked like boys, naked boys of all ages, and most of them were wearing green collars like his red one. There were a few yellow collars, and a few red ones, but most of them were green. There were boys of all races and sizes and shapes, but it wasn't that which bothered Devon and almost made him faint in shock.

It was the fact that the naked children there in the cafeteria didn't look like boys.

Boys had things – penises and testicles, or cocks'n'balls as Devon and his friends had called them – down between their legs.

Devon did.

His old friends had.

But NONE of these boys did.

And I'll probably never see my old friends again, either, he thought, but realizing that he probably wouldn't be ABLE to face them if word got out that he'd ever been sent HERE.

Devon remembered how stunned he'd been at first seeing them – boys (were they really boys?) without anything between their legs. Without the parts which, to Devon, were the very definition of 'boy'.

To Devon, it was as if they weren't boys at all, nor girls, but some other gender that no one had ever told him about.

As he stared at them, Devon had seen that these boys had only smooth, perfect skin where their 'cocks'n'balls should have been.

"NEWBIE!" Some other boy had yelled out, drawing everyone's attention to Devon.

Devon only remembered that he'd fainted dead away at the sight of that first boy – that boy with no boy parts – who'd wanted to shake his hand 3; 3;

3; 3;"Devon? Devon? You back there still?" The lady asked, as the car stopped. Devon, itching in his black suit, snapped out of his reverie and sat staring at the baby in his arms. "Devon, honey, are you OK?" She repeated, as Devon was drawn back to the present – to the back seat of the car, far away from the noisy cafeteria full of neutered boys in collars.

"No, yes, I mean, just remembering," Devon answered in a soft voice, a voice that he still – after four years – wasn't used to. It was the deep voice of a man, not the high treble of a boy.

"We're home, buddy," the man at the wheel said, pulling the car up into the garage of the old restored Victorian house that the four of them – now five – called home. It was also what they called work, as several rooms on the lower floor were devoted to the couple's business. Devon not only lived with them, but worked for them as well in the tattooing and piercing business.

"What were you thinking about, darling?" The lady asked, as she picked up the toddler – her son – and they all went inside.

"I was just remembering my first day at San Carlos Island," Devon said, sounding melancholy. "I fainted in the cafeteria, first time, you know."

"You've told us that story a hundred times," the man reminded him, taking Devon's jacket as Devon carefully put the baby down in his playpen in the living room. The man then kissed Devon's neck, taking his shirt off as well, to reveal the myriad patterns of brightly colored ink that covered Devon's skin from the neck down. Across his stomach and chest, a green dragon outlined in red stood, fire coming from his mouth and spreading all down Devon's right arm.

"Bob, not in front of the babies," the lady laughed, as she put the toddler down too. He giggled and pointed at Devon. "Pretty!" he squeaked. It sounded like 'pweh-tee'.

"But how can you help, it Carol?" Bob asked, as Devon turned and helped him out of his coat, too. Bob kissed him deeply. Like Devon, the man was covered with bright ink. He was muscular and very well built, as was Devon. Carol smiled at them. She kissed her husband, then Devon, touching his flat, hard stomach and reaching for his belt as Devon returned her deep kiss.

Just then, the baby began to cry.

"Jesus, Carol," Devon gasped, almost bursting into tears himself, "Now that I've got him, what the HELL do I do with him?"

"He's hungry," Carol advised, unbuttoning her blouse and taking both children in her lap to nurse. "That's something you men can't do," she laughed. "And somebody's sprouting teeth! Ouch, Robbie! Easy now!" She told her toddler. Robbie laughed her.

"I'm hungry too," Bob pouted, "And don't tell us they're all for the babies!"

"Go build a fire, it's chilly," Carol told him. "And the babies don't share!" She laughed.

Devon just stood there, watching, a lost look on his face. The house WAS chilly, and it made him shiver as Bob motioned him towards the fireplace. They build a roaring fire which soon warmed the room, then finished undressing. It wasn't easy be a naturist in that part of the world, after all, which got Devon to thinking about warmer climates again.

Bob made hot coffee, and when the babies were fed and had drifted off for their afternoon nap, Carol joined the men.

Nude, the three of them cuddled on the sofa in front of the fire. As always, Devon sat in the middle. He leaned his head over on Bob's shoulder as Carol's hand moved down the bright green and red dragon on his skin, brushing his pierced nipples, pausing at the bright yellow outline of his 'innie' navel, and then moving down to follow the dragon's flowing green and gold tail to Devon's nullo place 3; 3;

3; 3;"Nullo place? What's that?" Devon remembered asking, the first time that he'd heard the term.

"It's where your cock'n'balls USED to be, silly!" One of the genderless children told him. That had been later that night, nearer to dinner, once they'd revived him from his faint and had a good laugh. "And it feels REALLY good when someone rubs it, or kisses it, or 3;,"

But Devon hadn't wanted to hear anymore about it. He'd just been sold like a used car that no one wanted anymore; sold to a man who ran a resort where rich men came to fuck neutered little boys. Because, Devon had thought, that's just what they were – neutered. They weren't boys anymore, no matter what they called themselves. He remembered asking if it was even legal!

"It is HERE!" Another boy had told him. "And once they cut you, man, you won't even remember havin' all that stuff after a few weeks! It feels so good 3;," 3; 3;

3; 3; " 3;doesn't feel good, Bob, stop it," Carol's voice was saying. Devon shook his head. He'd almost fallen asleep there between them. "I don't think that's going to get him in the mood!" Carol slapped her husband's hand away from Devon's nipple, situated just under the green dragon's tongue.

"You're right, dear, I'm sorry Devon. Why don't you get a bath and go to bed?" Bob suggested. "You look exhausted."

"I miss 'em," Devon mumbled, looking over his shoulder at the two sleeping babies in their playpen. The smaller one, all of six months old, held his head up, blinked several times, then began to cry. Shaken out of his reverie, Devon jumped up at once and picked him up. The baby's cry had him wide awake now.

"Get used to it," Carol laughed, "I'll go run a bath, then you can bathe Maximillian too, save time and water."

"Huh?" Devon asked.

Carol rolled her eyes. "Bob always bathes with Robbie, AND me," Carol laughed, "You know that. There's nothing at all wrong with it, in fact, it's healthy, for a daddy to bathe with his son."

"My son," Devon said, almost inaudibly, "my son."

"He is now," Bob reminded him. "They loved you a lot, Devon," the man assured him, "And trust me, there's no one better suited in this whole world to raise that little boy than you are."

"My son," Devon said again, his eyes filling with tears as Carol prodded him on towards the bathroom. "And don't forget your meds!" She shouted, "YOURS or HIS!"

"Poor little guy, not even a year old and you're falling apart already," Devon told the baby, who laughed at him.

"'Infuse one syringe full into baby's rectum twice a day to induce bowel movements'," Devon read the label, his mind wandering again as he put on sterile gloves and prepped the area, holding up a very tiny length of tubing. "'Insert into baby's urethra until urine flows, hold for one minute, then slowly remove,'" Devon read on. "Well, at least you'll grow up used to it," he smiled, tickling the baby's chin. "I remember the first time the doctor gave me an enema," Devon told him, as he opened the baby's diaper. It was damp, but not wet. "Poor kid! Well, at least it cuts down on the diaper bill." He commented, holding up the tube. "You know, this'd be easier if you had a penis? Poor little guy, not fair is it?" Devon asked him, as he gently slid the catheter in. "Guess that's why they wanted ME to take care of you, if anything happened to them, huh?" The baby cried a bit as the tube went in, but it didn't last. He was getting used to it. Devon then measured the urine amount and gave him his bowel infusion.

Minutes later, and he was cleaning up a real smelly mess. "Why do babies laugh, Maximillian? Is making a poop THAT funny?" Maximillian laughed at him again. "You can't pee, you can't poop on your own, what's so funny about that?" He paused. "Then again, daddy has to do an enema at bedtime every night, too. Had to since he was a boy! You can help me remember!"

Devon then put the baby down on the rug and did his own nightly clean-out. Three quarts of the warm custom mix he'd first been given on the Island, and had had to do every night before bedtime ever since. After all, if you liked being fucked, you had to keep your butt clean – and Bob certainly liked to fuck him.

He then settled himself and the baby into the bath. Maximillian screamed and laughed and splashed everywhere. He even kicked Devon in the crotch once! Devon dropped him, and was amazed to see the baby's swimming reflex. He grabbed him back up, frightened that he'd drown, but Maximillian was having a good time. "Good thing daddy's a nullo, too, huh? Yeah, that's what they call boys like us, Maximillian – nullo's. That means you don't have boy parts down there!"

Maximillian laughed at him again.

"Well, daddy didn't think it was funny when they cut HIS off, no!" Devon told him, lifting him in and out of the water. "Not fair to be born without parts, is it? Bad old doctors, said you were a little girl! Well, at least nobody will ever cut yours off 3;," 3; 3;

3; 3;" 3;and then when they do that," Devon remembered, his friend Sammy was telling him, "You can't jack off, if you already know how to! I mean, you can't jack off with no dick, can you?!"

"But why?" Devon had asked him, "Why do I have to get it cut off?"

"So you HAVE to get fucked in the ass," Sammy had told him. "You're horny, all the time, from the meds they give you in all the food you eat, and you can't do shit about it! The only way you get off is to have a man fuck you, you know, make you orgasm, make you cum?"

"Was that what the doctor did to me when I got here?" Devon had asked him. "When he checked my pros-tuh-rate?"

"'Prostate,'" Sammy had laughed at him, "And yeah, that's it! Felt good, huh? Just wait until they do the injection that enlarges it! Damn, dude! That right there's enough to make any boy WITH a cock forget 'bout jackin' off! And you get to feel that way every single day you get fucked! Maybe lotsa times a day, if you're lucky – and good at it! AND you get paid for it, too!"

"You DO?" Devon had asked. No one had told him that! "How much?"

"Sure! Ben puts money in a trust fund for all of us. We get paid so much per fuck, or per day, 'cause the men pay HIM for it. And what he paid to whoever sold your ass to him, you get paid like half that, too, right off the bat! But you don't get the money until you grow up and leave the Island. Well, you get an allowance each week for stuff at the shoppes here, but tha's diff'rent. I mean, once you grow up an' leave, you don' get sex so much. They don't want growed men, they want young nullo's who don't have any 3;," 3; 3;

3; 3;" 3;any balls down there," Devon was telling Maximillian, "So that's why it didn't hurt daddy when you kicked him!"

"Is daddy about ready to get out of there?" Carol asked, as she came in and took the baby. Devon got out and dried off as Carol checked over the baby again. "Was his diaper wet?" She asked.

"Some," Devon answered, "but not much. I got a lot out of him."

"Boys born with total male genital agenesis who had urethral opening surgery usually manage to outgrow it," she reminded him. "He'll be able to pee on his own someday."

"I remember his dad, Ed, just had a fit when he was born," Devon recalled, "That dumbass pediatrician wanted to turn poor little Maximillian into a girl! Thought he was a girl when he delivered him, just 'cause he couldn't see a penis!"

"Yes, but his parents said no, and insisted on a blood test. You wouldn't believe the fight they had to go through to get that hospital to leave the poor child alone!" Carol said disgustedly, "It's wrong, and we all knew it.'Oh, he'll be better off,' they said, 'Raise him as a girl,' they said 3; shit! What do they know? This from the profession that routinely used to chop off baby boy's foreskins, just because it looked nicer?" Carol spouted. "Hell, some parents still do, and the battle's been raging for a century or more! Why don't they just LEAVE IT ALONE?! What is it with cutting up baby boys' genitals, anyway?"

Devon laughed. "You tell me!" Coming from a nullo, it was funny.

"YOU don't count!" Carol smiled at him.

"Maybe not, but I wasn't a baby, either. I was a ten year old boy. I was old enough to think for myself. Never mind the fact that I didn't have a choice, since I was sold as a slave." Devon added, looking wistfully at Maximillian.

"That's why we didn't even ask about Robbie," Carol went on. It seemed that she'd been just a little stirred up. "Once he's older and he's educated, and he knows all about it, he can choose for himself." Carol snorted. "Like a baby has any say in it. That's why we don't do ear piercing for infants in the studio, you know," She reminded Devon. "It's wrong."

Devon knew that well. Every day, almost, he had to deal with kids – mainly boys – who would stop on their bikes and come in and look around and try to talk him into letting them get a piercing or tattoo. It was usually older boys, those just hitting puberty, and wanting to experiment. After all, at that age, the business – and Devon – was 'really cool'.

"You gotta see the guy's dragon tattoo," the regulars always said, which had its benefits. Devon never had to go out for the mail or the paper, or leave to run errands. Despite the advances in technology, there were still enough people left who liked to read paper media and not sit in front of a monitor all day long.

"Yeah, even Ben Toeber didn't force nullifications on boys," Devon remembered, "Sometimes he let them out of it, or resold them," Devon sighed.

"I didn't invent slavery," Carol reminded him. "And with the population and society like it is, it's always the kids who suffer for their parents' stupidity."

"Our won't," Devon declared, "Will you, Maximillian? No matter what you grow up into being?"

"Well, he's an XY-boy, just a very special one," Carol cooed at the baby, "Just like his new daddy," she smiled, giving Devon a kiss and handing him the baby. "Gender reassignment at birth," Carol snorted again. "Ridiculous! Like it's moving heaven and earth to dress the child in a neutral color like yellow or gray, and let him pick out his own toys and SEE which way he goes? Why is it so hard?"

"What about 'his' name, though?" Devon asked.

"'Maxie' can go either way," Carol replied, "as can the 'Christopher' for his middle name. But if he wants to be a girl later on, it can be 'Christina' or 'Chrissy'. That's why they chose it, but then again, Ed so wanted a boy. Well, he sort of got one!"

Devon wasn't sure how to take that. After all, ever since his own cutting so many years ago, he'd been somewhat confused as to just WHAT he really was. He wondered how Maximillian would take it, when he was old enough to understand it. But then again, in a nudist household, he'd grow up having a man, a woman, a eunuch, and a little boy around him all the time. Surely he'd have it all sorted out in a few years, Devon thought, and he could make his own choices. Then Devon yawned.

"Good thing I said you were off to bed! Bob's a bit 3; randy 3; tonight, let's say," Carol warned him, "But I told him with Ed and Jeannine just having DIED, for God's sake, that you were in no mood for a fucking tonight!" Carol said seriously, changing tracks. "But I am. Don't be angry?"

Devon was surprised. "N-no, no? Why would I be mad?" He asked, "I mean, you're his WIFE!"

"And you're his 3; our 3; resident sex toy!" Carol reminded him, tickling his nullo place. Devon laughed. "Don't drop the baby!" Carol exclaimed.

"You know what happens when you touch me there!" Devon replied.

"Yes, and I know what happens when Bob touches you somewhere else!" Carol teased him, and then she became serious again. "I know it's hard, Devon, but trust me. You've got us, and we need you. What would I do without you to help out with the Shoppe and Robbie 3; and Bob, for that matter? I swear, my pussy would fall out if you weren't here, he'd wear me out! And you're such a good artist in the Shoppe, too! Why, we're making four times what we were before you came along!"

Devon smiled at her and kissed her, as if he were only eight years old and being sent to bed early. He was tired, he had to admit. Too tired, and too upset over the funeral to fuck. All he wanted to do, after getting a small bite to eat, was to go to bed. He was just getting settled when Bob came in to tell him goodnight.

"You forgot this," Bob reminded him, holding up a hypodermic, "It's hormone day!" Devon groaned and rolled over so that Bob could give him his injection. "Forget this, and those muscles turn to fat and you'll grow boobs! That, and this little monster," he pointed at Maximillian, "Is going to take all the strength you've got!"

"It's just a shot," Devon remembered 3; 3;

3; 3;" 3;you get one every week, to keep your horny," Sammy had told him. "And other drugs, too. Just 'cuz they cut your nuts off don't mean you won't TRY to hit puberty. They have to make sure you don't get to have any REAL male stuff in your body!"

"Yeah, that's how the nullo guards get all bulked up," Tommy put in, as the boys were sitting in their room chatting, trying to educate their new roomie, Devon, who hadn't been cut yet. "They grew up here, but when they got older, they got shots so they could turn into men – just men with no parts!"

"Yeah, but they get fucked sometimes, still," Sammy had said, "Some guys think it's hot. I'd like to have muscles like that!"

"So when 3; when 3; do they cut mine off?" Devon remembered asking them 3; 3;

3; 3;" 3;since they cut 'em off, gotta keep doin' the shots," Bob laughed, kissing both Devon and the baby goodnight. Devon rocked the baby until he fell asleep, then put him in his padded section of the queen size bed in their room.

It wasn't that the house wasn't big enough for Maximillian to have his own room. Devon was just afraid to let the baby out of his sight. But then again, it was only his first day as a daddy. And it was also his first night, other than as a houseguest, as a permanent resident of the room. Technically, it was HIS room for when he stayed with Bob and Carol. But he'd already made up his mind in the few previous days – he couldn't stay in his friends' house. It already seemed empty, haunted, too big. Even though it had been the first place he'd called 'home' since leaving San Carlos Island, now it was different. It was spooky, and Devon felt like it was no place to raise a little child.

At least here, once everything was moved and the house sold, Maximillian would have a family, and Robbie – a 'brother' of sorts.

Devon fell asleep with those comforting thoughts.

Maximillian slept until almost two in the morning, when his pitched screams woke Devon up with a start.

"Are we gonna do this every night?" Devon asked, bleary and half incoherent.

"Only until he's 18 or so," Carol said, as she came in with Robbie on her breast to take the baby. "So long as I'm up," she added, "but YOU stay up too!"

"I feel useless," Devon sighed. "I mean, women have the babies, they nurse the babies, and men, they – "

"THEY sleep through it," Carol laughed, "Or MAKE the babies, THEN go to sleep!" They both laughed at that. When the babies had gone back to sleep after feeding, Carol quietly took Devon down to the kitchen for warm milk and cookies.

"I'm not the baby," Devon joked, as Carol petted his thick, brown hair. "Just 'cause I'm short!"

"You're 22, 5'5 [1.65 m]", you're still a kid in MY book," Carol told him. "Bob and I got a late start, remember?"

"I remember when you and Bob first visited the Island," Devon winked at her. "Ben was so shocked to see a woman come there, WITH a husband!"

"With a husband who liked teenage nullo boys," she laughed, "And so did I, for that matter!"

"But there weren't any BOYS on the Island!" Devon laughed again. "Just us eunuchs!"

"Eunuchs are better than intact boys," Carol laughed. "Just ask Bob."

"Or ask YOU!" Devon reminded her, giggling like a toddler as Carol tickled his nullo place. "Quit it!"

"Oh, you don't mean that," Carol countered, "Besides, Bob needed the lessons from you eunuchs in the oral department. I swear, the man thinks sex begins and ends with his cock being stuck in something – me OR you! Typical man. His idea of foreplay was yelling, 'Watch out, here it comes, baby!'"

They both laughed at that. Hell, it was true. The first thing that Island boys on San Carlos learned was that the men there were all about fucking. That was why they came, and that was what they paid for. But by being a eunuch, Devon had quickly learned, he had to be good at all kinds of other things sexual – since a nullo couldn't DO the fucking. It was as Ben Toeber had explained to him, right before his cutting – he didn't cut boys to steal their sexuality.

He cut them to expand it.

And then there was the occasional, rare, woman like Carol – who was all about the oral part of it. After all, what else could a nullo boy do for her?

"I've been remembering the Island a lot today," Devon confessed. "What with you and Bob, and now Ed and Jeannine being gone," he sighed, laying his head on Carol's shoulder. He sniffled.

"C'mon, get it out, baby," Carol told him, sensing what she'd been waiting for all day. "You been on the verge of fallin' apart all day long. Tell mommy all about it!"

Then Devon finally cried. "What do I know about babies? Why did they leave him to me? How am I supposed to take care of him? Raise him? And what about 3; what about other boys? They'll tease him, make fun of him! And what if someone finds out about us 3; about ME?"

"That baby is now legally YOURS, Devon!" Carol told him, "There's no law in this country that says eunuchs can't adopt! You were named his guardian, and no one can change that. You might have been one of Ben Toeber's Island boys for seven years, but you're a free, legal, adult now. As for his physical condition, well, that's WHY they wanted you, Devon. We talked about it a lot, all four of us, when Ed and Jeannine found out they were pregnant. Even before Maximillian came along, they wanted YOU, and only YOU, to take care of their baby in case anything happened to them. You meant the world to them, just like they did to us! And you remember this – there's no one else in the WHOLE world better suited to raise a special child like Maximillian, other than you! No one!"

Devon cried for a while, but Carol knew that one cry in one night wasn't going to be the end of his grief. After all, he'd just lost the 'family' that had been repeat clients of his on San Carlos Island, along with herself and Bob, but mainly just Ed and Bob. And it had been Ed and Jeannine that had offered Devon a place to stay when he'd gone off to college and 'graduated' from San Carlos Island. Not that the young man had needed it – he was financially set. He could have just bought his own house and lived off of the interest that his trust fund had made for him over the years. But Ben hadn't encouraged that. He wanted his boys to DO something with themselves – be something.

"Just because you're eunuchs and can't go off fucking women and making more babies that the already overpopulated world doesn't need, doesn't mean you can't BE something!" Ben had always told them.

"C'mon, darling," Carol assured him, as she put him back to bed, "Tomorrow, Bob can put your nice silver earrings back in, and touch up the dragon's tail on your left leg. If you're a good boy, he might even use the painful ink you like!"

"Yeah," Devon sighed, as he drifted off to sleep. "Ink 3; 3;,"

3; 3;" 3;ink that won't wash off," Devon was dreaming, as he told his Island friends about it. "Ed, my client, bought this tattoo kit in the gift shoppe! Look!" He'd told them, showing them the black outline of the spread eagle wings on his back and shoulders. "Yeah, but it's not real, Ben won't let us have tattoos," Sammy had said. "You take a shower, and it's gone!"

"Someday I'll get a real one," Devon had told them. "I'll draw it, color it, and someone will put it on me, forever!"

"Does it make your client horny?" Tommy had asked, which got them all to laughing. In his dream, Devon smiled. He'd been a nullo boy for almost three months when Ed had first come to the Island. Ed had had tattoos too, and he ran a parlor with his friend, Bob. That was what had drawn Devon to them – the tattoos. And they were also married! To women! And they even wanted to have their own children someday! The boys had all laughed about that. Married to women, and they still came to fuck the eunuchs on the Island!

But it was the tattoos that Devon had liked, not that the fuckings he got from Ed and Bob were bad! In his dream, he was remembering hiding in the bushes and just watching them. Normally, he'd not have been shy about talking to clients. Even if they didn't want sex right THEN, most of them still enjoyed the company of the Island boys. But he was afraid to approach them; he was afraid they'd say the same thing Ben did – that he was being silly about wanting a tattoo. He even drew pictures – he was always drawing, painting – to give to Ed and Bob.

In the dream, Devon was on the beach, painting, on his break time. He'd painted a dragon floating on the blue water of the ocean, and he'd not known that Ed and Bob were watching him, stalking him, just like he'd been following them around! They both bought him that day, in fact, taking him right there on the beach. How old was he? Still eleven? Devon remembered they'd been especially turned on that one night, the both of them, when he'd presented them with a photo of himself that Ben had enhanced on his computer.

It had been one of Devon's admissions photos, and Ben had overlaid the artwork of the burning dragon on it and printed it out.

Devon had literally been fucked into insensibility that night – fucked, while one did the fucking, and the other painted patterns on his chest and tummy with a rough brush. He wanted to cry that morning when he'd had to wash it off, but that was the rule on the Island. You could have a small earring, and maybe a watch if you asked for it, but nothing else permanently marring, as Ben had put it.

"When you graduate," Ben had always reminded him, each time Devon had begged for a tattoo – "just a little one, Master Ben, pleeeeeease?"

Devon slept on, hand touching the baby's blanket and never leaving it.

Downstairs, a clock chimed on the mantel.

On the wall above the clock, the acrylic dragon rose up out of the blue water canvas of San Carlos Island, where it had been hanging for the last eleven years.

Chapter 2
The Ink Spill

But worrying was something that Devon did a lot of. He wasn't sure why he did it, but he just did it. And he couldn't stop doing it.

One thing that really bothered him was how people in public reacted to his son. As Maximillian grew, and they followed Carol's and Bob's careful plan of not pushing the child towards any one gender, it became harder and harder to tell if the child was a boy or a girl. "What a beautiful little 3; ahhh 3; baby!" Someone would exclaim, usually women, in the supermarket checkout lines. And since the colors of baby-boy-blue and baby-girl-pink were carefully avoided, the confused reaction was always the same. The moderately long chestnut-brown curls of Maximillian's hair didn't help, either. Devon even made a little one-piece outfit for Maximillian for colder weather, carefully dyeing it in a spectrally correct rainbow pattern. That was his favorite – a lot of mixed colors.

It got a lot of attention, too.

"Is it a boy or girl?" Someone would ask.

"Yes," Devon would reply, and never give a direct answer. He especially liked that.

"We're not boys OR girls," Tommy and Sammy used to tell him 3; 3;

3; 3;" 3;Boys and girls, men and women, have genitals between their legs. That's what makes 'em boys or girls."

"Then we're 3; what?" Devon had asked, right after he'd been released from the hospital after the repairs and augmentations to his cutting in the Arena. He'd been amazed at how fast the rapid-heal gel had covered his raw crotch in smooth, new skin. That, and he'd been amazed by how sensitive the area felt, even if his 'boy parts' were gone for good. The salvaging and relocation of the nerve bundles, as well as the enhancements made to his prostate while he'd been sedated, were unbelievable. His hand had kept straying down there, and just at touch was enough to make him shiver.

"So are we both? Neither?"

"We're special," Tommy had said proudly, "And now YOU'RE one of us, too!"

"I'm special?" Devon had asked, realizing that no one had ever said that to him before 3; 3;

3; 3;" 3;You're very special, honey," Carol was telling him, as Bob moved the buzzing needle over Devon's right butt cheek to repair the damage he'd done to the backside dragon tattoo. Strapped down so he wouldn't move, Devon sighed as Carol caressed his nipples.

"Almost there," Bob encouraged him, as Devon shivered in pleasure. The inking hurt, but he liked it. When he'd been a boy, and Ed and Bob had used the rough brush on him to color his skin, it had always pushed him just up to the point of climax. Then, after leaving the island at age 18, Devon had discovered that the real thing – a real needle injecting ink into his skin – could actually send him into an altered state that was almost identical to an orgasm. Especially if the inking were being done to his nullo place, where the dragon's tail dropped and came back up his butt cheek before making the spiral down his left leg. Devon was shivering in pleasure. He loved being inked.

"I think you do this on purpose, falling down and skinning up my good art," Bob complained, "Just 'cause you know I'll have to fix it!" Devon just shivered. It felt so good, Bob's hands on his colored skin, that he could cry. The needle stinging him had him so wound up and horny, and they both knew it. Then, of course, Bob would tease him and ask what happened if he didn't want to fuck him right then!

"What'll you do, buddy? It's not like you can masturbate!" Then they'd all laugh. Of course, Devon knew that he was being teased. But strapped down and helpless, and a nullo to boot, it was arousing. "Darling, what do we do with him now?" Bob asked. "He's all revved up with no place to go?"

"Poor baby," Carol would tell him, petting Devon's hair, "Bob and Carol make it all better, OK?"

And then Bob would enter him, his cock sliding into Devon and touching that special spot. Gently, slowly, and never too rough, both man and woman were skilled in making sure that their eunuch experienced all the pleasure that he could. Devon and Carol would assume a '69' position for oral, with Carol stimulating his nullo place, while Bob fucked him. It always took Devon back to the island, where he'd been dumped, sold, so starved for affection that he didn't have to work to create the illusion of love for his clients. He wasn't naive enough to really believe, even then, that they really loved him. But Devon loved each one of them, physically and emotionally, and no one was ever mean to him there or told him to be quiet or go away. He was a favorite on the Island in no time, and soon one of Ben's darlings as well 3; 3;

3; 3;" 3;Someone must LOVE you, boy!" Ben was saying, "That's the most expensive watch in the gift Shoppe!"

"Can I keep it, please, Master Ben?" Devon had whined, which Ben Toeber found so cute and disarming. "Ed bought it for me!"

"Just don't wear it out in the sun, you'll get a tanline," Ben informed him, as he had taken the boy on his lap and cuddled him, which eventually led to fucking him. Sometimes, and if an Island boy were really lucky, it also led to spending the night in Ben's bed. Devon had done that several times, as had only a few other boys.

"I love you, Master," Devon whispered 3; 3;

3; 3;" 3;And we love you," Bob assured him, as the climax swept over Devon and he gasped, exhaling hard, right into Carol's vagina! Carol cried out and fell over backwards!

"Oh, what would we do without him?" She asked, as Devon closed his eyes. Bob pulled out of him and went to his wife, holding her. It was clear that while Devon might be done for the night, Bob wasn't!

"Don't you dare wake those babies," Carol warned him, which had been their primary concern for several months now.

"I think we need to put this baby to bed, first," Bob laughed.

As if learning to walk hadn't been bad enough for Devon's worrying habit, then came the chattering and curiosity. Like most children, Maximillian's first word had been "Dad-dah!". Then he'd begun reaching for things, namely Devon's earrings. And it didn't stop there. Anything brightly colored and within the child's short arm's reach wasn't safe. And just as Carol had said, once they started talking, they never shut up again!

Although Robbie was not quite a year older than Maximillian, the latter's lack of male genitals didn't seem to slow him down in the least bit in keeping up with his 'brother'. Given his preferences, Maximillian always went for the blocks, toy trucks, action figures, guns – all the while, the dolls and more feminine toys that were available went totally neglected. Neglected, that was, until the boys (as they'd come to think of the both them) found out that they could use them as well. It was perfectly acceptable to run over a doll baby with a remote control truck!

Maximillian's medical problems were quite another issue. It made potty training easy and cut down the diaper bill, since an 'accident' would have been cause for celebration. The fact that Devon had been used to being 'cleaned out' every day on the Island, however, had carried over with him. He always kept clean, because he never knew when Bob or one of his clients at the Shoppe might need him for a sexual favor! That, and if he got horny – which he did because of the hormones – then he was still just as dependent upon them as he'd been when Ben had had him cut just before the onset of puberty. And he always would be dependent upon others for his sexual fulfillment.

Still, it made taking care of Maximillian's needs easier. Every night, he and daddy 'cleaned out', got meds, took a bath, and then went to bed. The daily enemas, or 'emnemus' as Maximillian called them, were perfectly normal to him. After all, he'd been getting them every day since he could remember, and it was just a part of the bedtime routine.

And each morning, Maximillian woke up in bed with his daddy, just as he'd done for every morning he could remember. As far as Maximillian was concerned, there wasn't a single thing unusual about their way of life – not for him or for Robbie. It got complicated, however, when the child was old enough to put sentences together and started asking questions. Devon soon found out that his son thought that everybody else was strange – not his own nuclear family!

Growing up in the household so far, Maximillian and Robbie were both aware that some people – like their parents – had tattoos and piercings. The boys just didn't really understand why everybody didn't. By the age of four, both boys had their ears pierced, at their own requests. After all, their parents did. What shocked Devon was when Maximillian asked if he could have 'pretty colored skin' like daddy had.

"What do I TELL him?" Devon asked Bob and Carol, as the children were busy playing and out of earshot.

"Kid's too smart for your own good, isn't he?" Bob laughed. "Just tell him little kids can't have tattoos."

Devon did that. Maximillian didn't think it was fair. After all, he'd seen daddy's tattoos all of his life and he wanted some, too. He was just like his daddy, after all, and he said that.

"And you couldn't wait for him to start talking," Carol laughed. Devon gritted his teeth.

"Buddy, it's against the law to tattoo little kids like you," Devon explained patiently, and added that the policemen (policemen and firemen at this time were really cool to the boys) didn't like that idea at all and daddy could get arrested.

That seemed to satisfy the both of them, especially when Bob placated them with the wash-off variety of ink. Devon had to admit, though, that the simple patterns that the children were so fascinated with looked very cool. It reminded him of how he'd felt when he'd been a boy, and all the pretty patterns his clients had drawn on him had to be washed off the next morning.

"Like father, like son," Bob reminded him, "I seem to remember a boy on San Carlos Island who begged and begged for a tattoo, too?"

"Oh, be quiet!" Was Devon's reply.

The temporary tattoo idea worked just fine – up until the day that the adults all referred to as 'the great ink spill.'

Having studied chemistry in college, as well as majoring in art, one of Devon's hobbies was designing new and interesting forms of tattoo ink. They'd already had a brand on the market that took some of the pain out of the process for those that really wanted inking, but couldn't take the pain. The problem was allergies. Not everyone tolerated every different ink on the market the same way, and sometimes you had to find out the hard way how someone would react to it. The Shoppe always kept a supply of injectable antihistamines on hand for such emergencies. But having always remembered how much he'd loved the 'paint on' tattoos that he'd had when he was an Island boy, Devon had dedicated a lot of time and research into a nonpermanent, but much longer lasting, ink that could be applied without a needle. His goal was to create an ink that would hold its color for up to a month, not wash off, and really look like the real thing. After all, if it kept Maximillian from drawing on himself with felt markers, so much the better. Who knew WHAT they put in THAT ink anyway?!

'The great ink spill' happened purely due to Devon's own negligence, he would always claim. He'd been working on a batch of a vivid orange/yellow ink for non-needle applications when the video phone had gone off with a customer wanting to book an appointment with him. Bob and Carol were out somewhere, but there was nothing unusual about that. Devon was, after all, the boys' primary caregiver most of the time; it came naturally to him. Devon had left the large container of ink – open and unattended – on the table where he'd been carefully mixing it and took the call. But the call ran long. He was only interrupted by Maximillian's happy cry as the child came charging into the room to show him.

"Daddy! Look! Arm on fire! Fire like daddy's arm!" little Maximillian crowed in delight.

Devon froze, staring in shock at his son. For one moment, he thought that the boys had actually set fire to the house!

Maximillian's entire right hand and arm – all the way up to his shoulder – were a mix of orange and yellows in vivid hues and contrast, and indeed looked as if the boy's arm were on fire. He looked at his own right arm, sheathed in dragon flames. It had taken months of pain (and pleasure) to get his right arm to look the way he'd always imagined it.

"Just like daddy!" Maximillian repeated.

"I hope that washes off," the client on the video phone laughed, "I'd better let you go, Dev!"

Devon's first thought was, Boy, that DOES look real!

His next thought was that the ink wasn't fully done or mixed, and that the solvent that would cause the ink to eventually break up wasn't mixed in the batch yet.

Half an hour later, in the bathroom, after a furious scrubbing of Maximillian's hand, it was clean and pink again. The problems started at his wrist.

"Tell daddy what you did," Devon repeated for the umpteenth time.

"Stuck arm in bucket," Maximillian informed him proudly.

"I was gonna tell," Robbie offered helpfully, trying his best to help scrub the ink off of his little brother's arm.

It wasn't working.

The ink was only getting brighter.

That, and the solvent was starting to hurt Maximillian's skin.

"You stuck your arm in it?" Devon asked again.

"Yeah!"

"I told him to take it out," Robbie supplied, "But he said 'no'. He said 'be like daddy'."

Devon sighed. "How long did you have your arm in it?"

"When phone rang?" Maximillian smiled proudly.

In desperation, Devon made a call to the pediatrician. He'd long since switched to someone more liberal, as the family had never forgiven their original doctor for wanting to turn Maximillian into a 'real girl'. Dr. Timberman laughed – fortunately. Visions of a legal nightmare – child abuse, negligence, endangerment, all ran through Devon's mind. He was sure they'd take one look at the child and take him away from him.

"I'll be right over," Timberman promised, bringing with him a dermal scanner. Maximillian was quite proud to show off his artwork. Timberman gave Devon a nerve pill. "Well, the good news is that he's not allergic to it," Timberman announced, studying the scan results. "The bad news is that it's soaked down and penetrated to the muscle tissue."

Devon almost fainted.

"How 3; how long 'til it fades?" Devon asked.

The doctor shrugged. "You made it, YOU tell me," he said.

Devon then did faint.

He knew full well that without the last ingredient, the breakup solvent, that it wouldn't fade. At least, according to what he knew of chemistry, it wouldn't. At least, it shouldn't.

"Oh my God," was Carol's only reaction. Bob laughed, and wondered why Robbie hadn't gotten into it too. Robbie just pointed at Maximillian – who was still quite pleased with himself – and shook his head.

"Him go first," Robbie explained, which set Bob off laughing again.

"It's not funny!" Devon cried, "Bob, that won't come off! I made it! I've been going over the recipe all day, and without the destabilizer, it's permanent! Just like injected ink!"

"But it's painless and fast," Bob mused, "I should call the patent office! Can you make more of it?"

Devon didn't see the humor in it.

"Daddy mad?" Maximillian asked innocently and uncertainly, which got Devon's attention at once.

"Oh, no, buddy!" Devon assured him, "Daddy's not mad! He's just 3; worried, is all. You shouldn't have done that."

"I sorry," Maximillian offered, his eyes filling up with tears. He knew he'd upset his daddy. After all, the doctor had to give him a pill and wake him back up when the ink wouldn't come off.

Devon took the child on his lap and hugged him, assuring Maximillian that he wasn't going to be punished for it. Not that he had to punish the boys that often. All things considered, they were pretty good kids. Still, Maximillian started to cry. Devon held him and rocked him, rubbing his back, telling him over and over that it was OK. "Just please don't do it anymore, OK?" Devon asked.

"OK," Maximillian promised.

"It IS very pretty," Carol offered.

"You're not helping," Devon scoffed.

"HE wanted ink, he got ink," Bob shrugged. "YOU let him have earrings?"

"Earrings come back out!" Devon protested, "This is permanent body modification!"

"Devon, baby," Carol assured him, taking Maximillian from him and giving him a kiss, then sending the boys off to play. "Look at it like this – ever since he was a baby, he's seen you. And me, and Bob. To him, it's all perfectly normal – people with tattoos, piercings, or not wearing clothes. Almost every day, he sees us do ink or piercing work for customers. And every day, he sees you. He spends all his time with you. 'Just like daddy', he says, all the time."

"'Just like daddy,'" Devon repeated, unconsciously crossing his legs. Carol caught it.

"Yeah, just like daddy. Right down to the nightly rituals at bedtime," she reminded him. "Devon, he'll be fine! Don't worry about it! You know the ink isn't poison, or anything!"

"But what will people say? What'll they think of US when they see it?" Devon protested. "They'll think we DID it to him! We'll be investigated!"

"Not with Doc's report, we won't," Bob assured him. "Besides, you've never seen Doc come in for a touch up, have you?"

"Doc?" Devon asked.

"Well, it's been a while," Carol commented.

"Why do you think we went with him for a pediatrician?" Bob asked, "Just because he's a doctor, doesn't mean he doesn't like to have fun, too!"

"Oh," Devon muttered, which made him almost giddy with relief that he wasn't going to prison for modifying a minor! It was such a relief that he almost fainted again.

"The worst that can happen is we get investigated, and we get a fine," Carol shrugged. "Besides, we got friends in the right places in this line of work, you know. Dirt on too many people?"

Devon finally smiled. After all, it was that funny. Even the chief of police had sneaked in late at night before to patronize the Shoppe. One mention of the mythical creature 'the chimera' was enough to make the chief of police abruptly change the subject!

"Silly boy," Carol chided him.

"He's so cute when he's like this," Bob mused, bending down to give Devon a kiss.

"Ewwwww!" the children both cried, having been spying on them the whole time.

"I'll show you 'ewwwww'!" Carol challenged them, and the chase was on. It ended with the children's' capture and torture of hugs and sloppy kisses until the boys screamed to get away!

Later that night, curled up in bed together, Maximillian snuggled up to his daddy and said he was sorry again.

"It's OK, buddy," Devon assured him. "Daddy loves you."

"Fiery arm, just like daddy's!" Maximillian repeated, then he yawned and went to sleep.

Devon kissed his cheek, and exhausted from the exciting day, went to sleep too.

"Oh, it washes off," they all assured anyone who asked about Maximillian's colorful arm. It wasn't much of a problem in colder weather, when the boy wore long sleeves when they went out, but in summer, it was sort of a problem that required explanation. Just as Carol had predicted, their friends in high places were of use when some of the local busybodies alleged child abuse. Those rumors were quickly shot down, however. All that came of it was a visit from one of Bob's friends with Social Services, whom Devon instantly recognized as a former client from San Carlos Island!

"Boy, YOU grew up!" The agent declared, and that was the end of THAT! "How'd YOU get a son, though?" He wondered.

"Long story," Devon sighed.

Their next hassle didn't occur until the next fall, when the boys were due to start kindergarten. Robbie had missed the age cut off deadline by only a few days, but rules were rules and Carol and Bob were reluctant to let him start school, anyway. Devon was surprised to find out that there was a good private academy nearby.

"The uniforms are just darling," Carol commented, when they took the boys to be fitted. Both Robbie and Maximillian protested that the clothes itched and were hot. After all, neither of them had worn clothes that much in their short lives so far. "They'll be day-boys," Carol assured them, when Devon almost had a seizure upon finding out that the academy boarded as well. "It's silly when it's a half hour cruise at hover," Carol assured him again, "Besides, what's the most you've been away from him at once? Two hours at a stretch? You'd never survive it."

"You're worse than a mother hen," Bob told him.

"I'm like that," Devon agreed, as the children presented themselves in their uniforms for inspection and alterations. Devon sighed. "Maximillian's gonna need a haircut."

Other than a little trim now and then, Maximillian had never had a real haircut before. His brown hair was thick and curly and down past his shoulders, but academy regulations said that it had to go. The book even provided a picture. "Can't we home school them?" Devon protested, as his son sat nervously in the barber chair and the clippers came on with a whir. Devon couldn't watch.

"Wow," Robbie breathed when it was over, with only a minimum of protesting, "You look like a boy now!"

"Cool!" Maximillian agreed, touching his head where it was buzzed close to the skin up the sides and back, making him look something like a mushroom. Robbie's dark blond hair was cut the same way, and always had been. "I look like you now!" Maximillian exclaimed, which got the boys to laughing. Devon was almost in tears again.

"You getting enough hormones?" Bob asked him, "You're acting an awful lot like a woman lately!" He pointed out to Devon.

Carol smacked him.

Later that night, while Carol kept the children entertained, Bob gave Devon a good fucking, "to take your mind off of it," Bob told him.

It worked.

The first day of school, Devon got a call from the school secretary.

"You didn't fill out 'male' or 'female' on the paperwork, sir. I assume Maximillian is a boy, then?"

"Uhhh, well, yeah," Devon fumbled. "Is that all?"

The secretary laughed. "It will be until you see the dry cleaner's bill for uniforms," she added whimsically.

Having never had to deal much with boys' laundry before, Devon was amazed at how quickly the boys trashed their uniforms.

His next call, a few days later, came from the principal.

"Can you explain to me WHY your son has a fire-colored arm?" the man asked. Devon explained it all. The principal didn't sound impressed. "It's a distraction," he claimed. "The boy's going to have to wear long sleeves all the time, or one of those special white burn sleeves to hide it. The other day, when he took his jacket off, his teacher almost fainted!"

The next problem was handled by Robbie.

It didn't take long for all the other boys to notice that Maximillian – who'd made some progress in being able to pee unassisted – always went to a stall and sat down on potty breaks. He'd made it to the point where he only required one catheterization per night, to make sure his bladder was empty before bedtime, and he was very proud of himself for it.

"Boys pee standing up," one of the other students commented. "You're not a girl, are you? Girls sit to pee." Maximillian wasn't sure what to say about that. Robbie explained that his brother had been born with his 'peehole' in the wrong place, and the doctor couldn't fix it until he was bigger. That was why he had to sit down. "Wow, that'd have to suck," had been the general comment from the other boys, and that was the end of that.

At least at school.

"Daddy, am I a boy?" Maximillian asked one night, as they soaked in the bathtub. School had been going well, Devon's fears of some kind of discovery and harassment were lessening, so the question took him totally by surprise.

"Well, why do you ask?" Devon asked.

"Robbie says I'm not a real boy," Maximillian replied.

When Devon thought about it, he wondered that this question hadn't come up before. After all, Robbie was perfectly normal, and the children had been growing up in a naturist household for six years. Surely they'd noticed the differences between them by now? "What makes you wonder?" Devon asked him, wanting to hear the kid's logic on it.

"When I got a haircut," Maximillian answered, "Then Robbie said I looked like a boy now. How come I never got a haircut like Robbie before?"

Devon took a deep breath. At six, the talk about the 'birds and the bees' was coming a bit early, he worried. Especially for a bee that didn't have a stinger!

"And Robbie didn't know why we got same uniforms, since his tags said 'boys' on it and so did mine. And the other boys, when we go pee, they stand up like Robbie. Robbie told 'em my hole was in the wrong place," Maximillian chattered, telling his daddy the whole story without stopping for breath. "And the other day, we were playing ball, and this one boy got hit with the ball, between his legs, and he fell down and cried. Robbie said he got hit in the nuts, and it hurts!"

"Well, we don't have to worry about that. Is he OK?" Devon asked.

"He was OK later," Maximillian assured him. "Daddy, hows come I'm different? I mean, we're different?"

The moment had finally arrived.

"Well, buddy, Robbie's a boy. He has things between his legs that make him a boy." Maximillian nodded. "And girls, well, like Carol, they have things too, but most of their things are up inside where you can't see them. Boys and girls are different." Maximillian stood up in the bath and touched his smooth crotch. "But we don't have stuff like Carol either? Why?"

The word 'why' was the killer. And it was also every child's in history's favorite question ever to ask adults!

"Robbie said not to tell anybody," Maximillian went on, "He said they'll make fun of me."

It was heartbreaking to hear it coming from his child, but Devon knew it was true. Children could be very cruel; they'd find someone in the bunch with something different – glasses, or funny ears – and peck the kid mercilessly about it. Devon could only imagine what the other boys in school would say if they found out that Maximillian was a nullo.

"He's right," Devon sighed, "But it's not nice to talk about other people like that."

"So am I a boy or not?" Maximillian repeated. It seemed that Devon wasn't going to get off the hook that easily. The kid didn't miss a trick.

"Yes, you are," Devon assured him, taking him in his arms, "You were born different, but you're still a boy."

"Even though I don't have stuff like Robbie's?"

"Right."

"How do you know, then?"

"Because when you were a baby, and you grew and grew, you acted like a boy," Devon told him. "We didn't know if you would, so we let YOU decide. We gave you boys' and girls' toys, and you always picked the boys' toys. And you always acted like a boy. So you're a boy, then."

"I don't get it," Maximillian confessed.

Devon sighed. "It's not what's between your legs, really, that makes you a boy or girl. It's what's in your head – how you think. How you see yourself. Get it?"

"No?"

"Thank you, Robbie," Devon groaned.

"What'd Robbie do?" Maximillian asked.

"Nothing, buddy," Devon replied, as Maximillian screwed up his face in thought.

"So some boys have boy stuff down there," he touched his smooth crotch, "And some boys don't?" He then touched his head. "But it's what's in here that does it?"

"Right!" Devon sighed relief.

"It's not fair, though!" Maximillian announced. Devon cocked his head at him.

"Why not?" He asked. Certainly he can't miss having a penis, since he never had one to begin with?

"Well, Robbie can pee on the wall!" Maximillian complained.

Chapter 3
Revelations & Discoveries

"Most men and boys have what Bob and Robbie do, between their legs," Carol explained. "A penis and testicles. They're also called 'genitals'."

"And women and girls have what's called a vagina down there," Bob added. "It's the same idea, only a little bit different. Sometimes people call it a 'pussy'."

"And breasts," Carol added, "Men don't normally have those."

"We know what boobs are, Mom!" Robbie laughed.

"Where were we?" Devon asked, his face red. Bob and Carol found that amusing.

"Genitals, dear," Carol reminded him, "Before we got sidetracked by my boobs."

"Oh."

"But if boys have a penis and stuff, and Maximillian and Devon don't, are they boys too?" Robbie asked again.

"Well, what did you think they were, Robbie?" Carol asked. "Space aliens?"

"I dunno," Robbie shrugged. "You always called him my brother, and he plays with boy stuff. I guess I thought he was a boy? I mean, we know he's not my REAL brother, or you'd be his mom, too. But I guess he's a boy?"

"Exactly," Bob said, "Maximillian's a special boy." The boys looked confused.

"You were born that way," Devon reminded him, "Remember we talked about that?"

Maximillian nodded.

"When you were born, the doctors didn't know what you were, because you didn't have anything down between your legs. That's how they tell, by what they see there when they look at a new baby," Devon explained, "So then they did a blood test, and it said you were a boy."

"Your blood can tell?" Robbie asked. The adults nodded.

"But the doctors also wanted to turn Maximillian into a girl when they saw him, and found out he really WAS a boy," Devon added, "But we said no. We wanted him to grow up and decide for himself." The boys both looked scandalized at that bit of news.

"That's just wrong," Robbie put in.

"But if I'm a boy, then, why wasn't I born like Robbie, with stuff down there too?" Maximillian asked.

"It just happened, dear," Carol said, "It's called a birth defect."

"You're defective!" Robbie snorted at his brother, which got them to going at each other. Bob broke it up fast before food began to fly.

"Honey, what did you think your brother WAS before you asked us?" Carol asked Robbie, "And why wait so long?"

Robbie shrugged again. "Hows come he always had long hair then? Girls have long hair. I dunno," he thought about it, "I guess it was the school clothes, you know, boy clothes, since we hardly ever wear clothes?"

"We didn't want to push him into being a boy or girl," Bob said, "We wanted him to decide for himself. That's why you always had boy and girl toys to choose from, and not baby-boy-blue clothes when you were little."

"People ask daddy sometimes," Maximillian offered. "I remember when I was little."

Devon smiled at him. "That's because when you were very little, we didn't know for sure which gender you'd pick. That's called 'androgynous', when you can't tell the difference, and we let you look like that on purpose. But you look like a boy now, son. You act like a boy. When you go to school, you wear boys' clothes and play with other boys, right? You do 'boy things', like play fight, play boys' games, like football?"

"Yeah?"

"So then you're a boy." Devon told him, hoping that that was the end of that.

"But if you're a boy, you pee outta your penis, standing up," Robbie added, indicating that the talk wasn't over yet. "Girls have to sit down 'cause they don't have one."

"Like me," Maximillian nodded. It was obvious that they weren't clear on it yet.

"So if you don't got nothin', are you a boy, a girl, or somethin' else?" Robbie asked again.

"What do you think I am, Robbie?" Devon asked him, "I don't have anything between my legs like your daddy or you does, do I? But I don't have boobs like your mommy, either."

"Uhhh, you're my uncle?" Robbie replied, after a minute or so. It was obvious that question had stumped him.

"But I'm not your aunt?" Devon added.

"No, you'd have to be a girl. But you're my uncle?" Robbie sounded confused still.

"You're something else, alright," Bob laughed. Devon shook his head.

"The point is, boys," Devon tried again, "That it's not what's between your legs that makes you a boy or girl, man or woman. It's what's inside your head – how you think of yourself, and how you act," he repeated yet again.

"Not how you pee?" Maximillian asked. After all, at that age, bodily functions were very critical subjects to the boys.

"You had to have an operation when you were born, son," Devon told Maximillian, "Because you couldn't pee. They had to make a little hole for you, and that's why you have to have the catheter at night, still, because it doesn't quite work right."

"So some boys just don't have all the stuff, daddy? But they're boys anyway?" Maximillian asked. Devon nodded. Maximillian looked sad. "That's not fair," he muttered. "I wondered how come Robbie had one and I don't."

"Then why didn't you ASK someone before now?" Devon asked.

"Dunno," Maximillian shrugged.

"Don't ever be afraid to ask questions, sweetheart," Carol told him. "OK?"

"So I'm really a boy?" Maximillian asked, looking as if he needed extra assurance.

"A very special one, yes," Devon told him.

"Just like you?"

Bob and Carol laughed. "Yes, honey, daddy's very special, too," Carol agreed. Devon blushed.

That seemed to satisfy the children, for the moment. They seemed to understand that most of the time, boys had all that stuff between their legs, but sometimes, they didn't. It didn't happen very often, but sometimes it did. Maximillian still didn't think it was fair. Then he told them about the boys' bathroom incident, which almost made Devon fall off his chair!

"That was a good thing you did, Robbie," Bob congratulated him, "How come you said that, son?"

Robbie looked at his brother. "I didn't want 'em to make fun of him. Sometimes they already make fun of his arm. And there's this one kid, he's got a funny birthmark and he gets teased a lot. And they make fun about you, too, 'cause of the tattoos and stuff."

"Because of the Shoppe?" Bob asked, "Well, that's to be expected. Not everybody likes this stuff."

"I just tell 'em to shut up," Robbie declared.

"Some kids think it's cool," Maximillian added, smiling again. "I like it!"

"I know," Devon told him. "So, are we clear on this now? The boy-girl thing?"

The boys nodded.

Later that night, Maximillian said that his tummy hurt. Given his medical condition, that was cause for alarm and a visit from Dr. Timberman and his portable medical scanner. Once he'd gotten the thing going, which looked like a funny silver kite on a long arm that hung over Maximillian and shone warm light on him, the attached screen showed what looked like a large white worm in the shape of a horseshoe inside the boy.

"Clogged up," Devon groaned, as he took a bottle of fizzy green liquid from the doctor and had Maximillian drink it.

"You might want to consider a diaper, just for tonight," Timberman advised, "For when it hits him."

Robbie giggled. Maximillian's jaw dropped.

"Keep him home from school tomorrow," the doctor went on, "And increase his enema volume by one pint, morning and night, but one every hour on the hour, tomorrow only. Double the amount of phosphate, too." the doctor advised. "He's not a baby anymore, you know. And have him hold it for as long as he can." Maximillian's eyes went wide. "And as he gets used to it, slowly increase the volume by a cup or so every few weeks."

"Dude," Robbie whispered, "sounds like you're full'a'shit!"

"I heard that!" Devon snapped. Robbie blushed. "You want me to wash your mouth out, too?"

"No, sir!" Both boys said.

"Did you, ah, tell the boy about the surgery option?" Timberman asked, once the boys were out of earshot.

"No, I don't want him cut on," Devon replied. "I wouldn't allow them to turn him into a girl, and I won't have 'em messing around with his insides, either!"

"Do the enemas bother him?" Timberman asked, "Or the caths? Most kids scream bloody murder?"

"No, he says it tickles," Devon blushed, remembering the first time he'd been confronted with an enema on San Carlos Island 3; 3;

3; 3;" 3;hot soapy water up my butt? Why?" Devon squeaked.

"To clean you out," the doctor told him. "All the boys have to have several of them, every day."

"Every DAY?!"

"Every day," the doctor nodded, holding up the conical nozzle, "You have to keep clean!" 3; 3;

3; 3;" 3;so I want you to use this from now on," Timberman was saying, handing Devon a red bulb with a larger black nozzle on it. "I'm just worried about the blockage in his ascending and transverse colon; it's a high risk of rupturing. Rectal enemas usually don't get all that stuff out, and since Maximillian's colon doesn't work right, that might be why he's having this problem. Is he listless lately?"

"No," Devon assured him. If anything, the boy was everything but!

"You might consider a high volume, extended time colonic treatment, then," Timberman suggested, "I can get you a home kit, since you probably wouldn't want to take him to a parlor?"

"No," Devon agreed, "That wouldn't be a good idea. I doubt if they've seen a six year old eunuch before."

"Good point," Timberman nodded. "Call me if there's any change, good or bad?" And with that, he left.

"Oh, boy," Devon sighed.

Maximillian's reaction to his new prescription was an uneasy one. "Does it hurt?" He asked nervously. Devon assured him it didn't, but that it would feel different – make him feel fuller. Robbie excused himself politely and went to his room, which always made Maximillian laugh. Devon bent him over his knee, just like he always did, and prepped him. Maximillian squirmed and giggled. "This isn't funny," Devon reminded him.

"But it tickles!"

He then pressed the new spout type nozzle against the boy's lubricated anus. As it began to go in, Maximillian gasped. "Did daddy hurt you?" Devon asked, his hands shaking.

"No," the boy grunted, "It's just bigger is all. It feels 3; weird! Tight!" Devon moved it a bit further in, and the boy gasped again. He pulled it back some. "Easy," he assured him, "It's almost there. You tell me if it hurts?" Maximillian nodded and clenched his teeth. Slowly, Devon got the spout in. Then he squeezed the bulb.

Maximillian's mouth popped open and he gasped, harder this time. "Oh, wow," he breathed, "Daddy, that's weird!"

Devon held the spout in as his son squirmed on his lap. He tried to hold still, but the boy's movements were working the spout back and forth. "You can't go yet," Devon reminded him, "You have to hold it."

"I know," the boy grunted, "Daddy, it's funny! It don't hurt, but it's funny!" He repeated, as Devon watched him trembling with a silly look on his face. If he didn't know better, he could have sworn that the boy was enjoying it. But if he wasn't enjoying it, why didn't he lay still, then?

"You want daddy to take it out, now?"

"No," Maximillian sighed, which got Devon's full attention. He saw that the boy was clenched down on it, hard, holding it in. And the more he moved, the more he shook. Finally, after about five minutes, Devon removed the spout and Maximillian got up and went. He looked very tired when he was done, and it was apparent that he'd needed it badly. "You do yours now?" He asked. Devon nodded, wondering. The last time he'd seen that expression on a boy's face was one of his friends on San Carlos having an orgasm.

A six year old can't orgasm, he told himself.

Maximillian fell asleep in the tub and had to be carried to bed. Across the hall, Robbie was already in bed, but sitting up reading. Having just learned, both of the boys liked it very much. "Is he OK, Uncle Devon?" Robbie asked, as Devon tucked him in. "I think so," Devon assured him, giving him a kiss. "I 3; I'm sorry I didn't think you were boys," Robbie offered. Devon assured him that it was OK and he didn't mind. "Were you born like Maximillian, too?"

"Uhhh, not really," Devon replied, "Let's talk about that later, OK?"

The next day was tiring for Maximillian. The new mix of enema solution, combined with the higher volume, wore him out. But his reaction was the same as the night before. Devon could swear that it was pleasure he was seeing on the boy's face. And while it didn't really bother him, it made him wonder. Eventually, the questions about sex and such would come, and what would he tell Maximillian? That he only had one choice, and that that was to have a man or boy – who had a penis – to fuck him in the ass? It sounded rude, but it was the truth. Born that way or not, Maximillian was a eunuch and he didn't have any other options. Devon hoped they wouldn't ask anytime soon.

"I swear, he likes it," Devon told Carol and Bob, after the boys were at school. It was well past the halfway point of the year, and so far, there hadn't been any more incidents or hard questions.

"Well, why shouldn't he?" Bob asked, "It's only natural?"

"Natural?" Devon asked. "He's six!"

"He's a nullo, too," Carol reminded him. "You're different."

"You said we were special," Devon smiled at her.

"You are," Carol agreed.

Devon hesitated. Bob told him "out with it!" as he usually did.

"Maximillian's been asking again, I mean, he always has," Devon began, "Ever since the ink spill incident, I mean, and I keep telling him no." He paused. "He's asking when he can have a real tattoo," Devon said.

"He's too little," Bob agreed, "You'd have to constantly work on it as he grew up."

"Even though it would look hot," Carol joked, which led to the 'closed' sign being turned around for the rest of the day!

Kindergarten came and went, as did first grade. Maximillian's condition improved with his enema treatments, sparing him the pain of surgery. That made two that Devon had saved him from. Second grade for the boys, at age 8, was just starting up when the next raft of hard questions that they'd all been dreading came.

Maximillian had awakened in the night and found his daddy gone. That was the first time that had happened, and it frightened him. He got out of bed and ran across the hall to Robbie's room, waking him up and insisting that they go and look for him. Robbie had never said a word about why Maximillian didn't have his own room. Robbie did, but often, when he woke up scared or it stormed, he wound up in bed with his uncle and brother. It just made him feel safer. That, and it had been a long time since he'd slept with his own mommy and daddy. They said he was a big boy now, and even though it sort of hurt, he never once asked why Maximillian still slept with his daddy.

"I hear someone downstairs," Robbie whispered, as they crept down and around to the master bedroom at the back of the house. Very strange noises were coming from within. The boys stared at one another, clutching flashlights – the ultimate weapons!

"Could be robbers!" Robbie whispered.

"I think someone's bein' murdered!" Maximillian whispered back, their imaginations running rampant as they went to find their baseball bats.

Very carefully, they nudged the door open.

What they saw froze them in their tracks, with their jaws hanging and eyes wide.

Devon was in the middle of bed, in the usual 69-position with Carol. As they exchanged oral pleasures, Bob was fucking Devon's ass, with the eunuch's legs over his own shoulders and Carol's hair brushing at his stomach. They were so into it that they were totally unaware of their audience.

The boys just looked at each other.

A second later, both of them yelled and attacked!

The mood instantly shattered.

Maximillian jumped on Bob, hitting him over the head with his flashlight. Robbie pounced on Devon, shoving his mommy backwards into the headboard and brandishing his ball bat at Devon at the same time.

"Stop hurting my daddy!" Maximillian yelled, as Robbie shouted, "Mommy!? Did he bite you!"

It took some doing to settle the boys down, but once they succeeded, it was painfully obvious that an explanation was in order.

"Boys, what you just saw was 'sex'," Carol explained patiently, as if nothing at all were amiss.

"Sex? I thought that was when a man a woman 'did it'?" Robbie asked. Apparently, this was already the usual conversation among elementary school boys their age.

"And what is 'it' they do?" Bob asked his son.

"I dunno," Robbie shrugged, as Maximillian just hugged his daddy and glared at Bob.

"We 3; we heard it at school," Maximillian offered, as Bob rubbed his head. "Sorry, uncle," he added.

"Boys, no one was hurting anyone," Devon reminded them, still panting and burning inside from his missed chance at an orgasm.

So it was that the dreaded 'birds and the bees' talk took place at three in the morning, in Carol and Bob's bed, with two very shocked and confused boys. When it was almost over, the questions started.

"But why did uncle have his penis in your butt, daddy?" Maximillian asked. "If you have sex, I mean, boys and girls, and they make babies? You can't do that, can you?"

Devon blushed very red. "Because it feels good, son," he explained. "It feels very good. People have sex sometimes, not to have babies, but to feel good. Sometimes they need to, just for the contact."

"I don't think putting my tongue in a girl's v-vir-ginia would feel good," Robbie stated flatly.

"Trust mommy, honey," she told him, "It's good for the girl."

This, of course, led to an explanation of oral sex, which only complicated matters. When it was done, Maximillian looked like he was going to cry. He was smart, after all, and he'd been steadily putting two and two together. The problem was, he didn't like the answer he was getting, which certainly wasn't 'four'.

"So, sometimes boys do it to other boys, in the butt?" He asked haltingly.

"Yes, son" Devon replied, "And for boys like us, well, since we don't have boy parts, it's the only way we can feel really good with sex."

"So that's why my penis gets hard sometimes?" Robbie asked. "Because then I could put it in a girl, OR a boy?"

"Just not right yet, dear," Carol supplied helpfully.

"Yes, son, some day," Bob told him, "And no matter what you hear, sometimes boys will play with it, just because it feels good. There's nothing wrong with that, either, even though some people think there is."

"Robbie plays with his sometimes," Maximillian supplied.

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Boys!" Devon snapped, taking in the both of them. Had it not been for their open upbringing so far, Devon thought, they'd have probably needed a therapist for years! After all, now many boys walked in on their parents in a three-way with a eunuch?

"Does 3; does it feel good, daddy?" Maximillian began, fumbling for words, "Like it does when you put the enema thing in my butt?"

Devon gaped at him. "Does that feel good for you, son?" He asked shyly.

Maximillian blushed hard and nodded. Then he cried.

"What'sa'matter with him?" Robbie asked, as his mommy held him.

"Well, son," Bob answered, "Some boys have a hard time with accepting the fact that they like the feel of things up their butts. It's scary, I think, for them."

"But why do you do it to uncle, if you and mommy do it too?" Robbie asked. "Uncle's not a girl?"

"No, he's not," Carol sighed. "Honey, there's another word for boys like your uncle and your brother – boys who don't have boy parts. It's called 'eunuch'. Some people call them 'nullo's'. And just because they can't do what mommy and daddy do, or make babies, that doesn't mean that they don't like to feel good, too."

"Billy said being ass-fucked means you're gay," Robbie put in, which stopped the conversation again.

"Do you know what that is?" Bob asked, shocked. Robbie shook his head.

"Gay is when two people of the same sex, like boys and boys, have sex with each other," Carol explained.

"So daddy's gay?" Robbie squeaked. He didn't fully understand 'gay' yet, but he'd heard it enough to realize that most people thought it was a bad thing.

"No, because Devon's a special boy," Carol explained further. "Being a man means 'male'. Being a woman means 'female'. But being a eunuch means really neither. It's a whole different thing. Those are what we call 'gender', meaning sex, as in man or woman."

The boys thought about that one. As far as they could tell, there were three of these 'genders'.

"So it's OK for boys to fuck boys who don't have boy parts?" Robbie concluded, "Cause it's not 'male' and 'male', it's 'male' and 'special'?"

"That's a very nasty word for a kid to use," Bob told him. "You should say 'have sex'. And yes, I think you've got it."

"I can't believe we're having this conversation," Devon shook his head.

"But it didn't hurt you, daddy?" Maximillian asked, the look on his face telling Devon that he still had a long way to go in explaining things. Devon shook his head. "You like it?" Devon nodded. Maximillian looked totally lost.

"We were just having grown-up fun," Carol assured him, but Maximillian wasn't to be comforted. It wasn't that he was bothered by it. Certainly it was shocking, to walk in and see his uncle fucking his daddy's butt, but then again, he knew how good it felt to have something up your butt. He had it every night, and every morning. And he liked it. It felt good, but he'd been too ashamed to admit it. His daddy was always scared that it hurt him, always asked, and he wasn't sure he believed him when he said it didn't hurt. "Honey, it's OK to like it. It really is."

"Buddy, what is it?" Devon asked him, "Tell daddy why you're crying?"

But Maximillian couldn't tell him. He didn't have the words for it yet.

Devon took him back to bed, where Maximillian cried himself to sleep.

"Do you want to tell me what's eatin' you?" Devon asked his son that next evening. "You've been dragging around the house all day like you don't have a friend left in the world?"

Maximillian's lower lip quivered, and he nodded. It took some time, since when he started to talk, he got wound up just sitting there crying. Devon was worried that their education the night before might have really traumatized them. And in a way, it had.

"D-Daddy," he finally managed, "You said a man can put his penis in a woman, and they make babies?"

Devon nodded. "You know that babies are born from mommies, they grow inside them? Like that one lady in the store? That's called 'pregnant'."

"Yeah," Maximillian sighed. "But 3; but 3;," and Devon just knew what was coming. "Since you don't have boy parts, you're not my real daddy, are you? I mean, you can't make babies, can you? Or me neither?"

It was the question – one of them at least – that Devon had always known that the boy would ask someday.

"No, son, I'm not your real daddy. I can't make babies, like you said."

Maximillian looked at him for just a moment, then hugged him and held on. "That's OK, I still love you, daddy," he assured him, as if the boy thought that he might be the one who needed comforted.

"What happened to my real mommy and daddy then?"

"They died," Devon said softly, finding that deep inside, it still hurt to say it. "They died, and you were just a tiny baby. They wanted me to have you. I'm sorry, Maximillian. We should have told you this all before. But you never asked."

"That's OK, I mean, I knew Carol wasn't my mommy, even though everybody said Robbie was my brother. I knew something wasn't right."

Devon was astonished at the boy's cognition. Some teacher someday was going to have his hands full with this one!

"So, we're not really boys, even though you said we were?" Maximillian asked, changing tracks again as if he'd not even just found out he was technically an orphan.

"I thought we were clear on that?" Devon asked, as he got ready to give his son his morning cleansing.

"If a boy and a boy do it, they're gay. If a girl and a girl do it, they're gay, and boys and girls do it and get babies, or 'cause it feels good an' it's fun, right?" The boy rattled off. Devon had to think about it. He nodded. "And boys play with their penis, when it gets stiff, 'cause it feels good?" Devon nodded again. Maximillian started to tear up again. "It's not fair!" He cried. "How come I had to be born different? What if I wanna make babies some day? What if I wanna be a daddy, and nobody will give me a baby to keep?"

The question was shattering.

"He's too smart for your own good," Carol had said, and Devon realized it was true. He braced himself for the next accusation, but it never came. Maximillian simply bent over his lap, as he always did, and breathed deeply. Devon held the bulb and thought hard. He wanted so badly to explain it, but the boy was already an emotional mess. It was clear he'd been trying to act tough over finding out that Devon wasn't his real daddy. Devon bit his lip and decided.

"Buddy, what if daddy could make you feel really good?" He asked. "I'm sorry you had to find so much out like you just did. I guess daddy's been trying to keep you from finding out things like that, trying to protect you. Maybe too much, and I was wrong. We should have told all this a long time ago. But heck, son, you already know more, seen more, than most boys your age or older!"

"What'r'we gonna do?" Maximillian asked.

Devon then lubed up the spout as he always did. "You said this felt good?" The boy nodded. "Well, if it's OK, daddy's gonna show you what nullo boys like us do, since we don't have a penis to play with, like Robbie and Bob do. OK?"

"OK!" Maximillian agreed, which seemed to change his mood at once. Curiosity was, after all, at his age, something of a danger.

Carefully, Devon slid the larger spout in. This time, however, he tilted it upwards, putting pressure gently on the spot where he knew the boy's undeveloped prostate was. He moved the spout in and out, slowly, carefully, always moving it in just the right spot 3; 3;

3; 3;" 3; in the right spot," Tommy was saying, "Cause if you don't, then you just end up being fucked. You don't get off. You have to make sure the client feels good, since he's paying for you, but you have to make sure you feel good too!"

"What you do," Sammy added, "Is make sure his cock rubs you up here," he pointed at his nullo place, "Only from inside. You kinda lean into it, and by the time the clients cums, so do you! Only thing is, nothin' comes outta you, not like the hot stuff the client shoots out and up inside you."

Devon, who hadn't started his training yet, listened in wonder. "And you're not 3; like 3; gay?" He asked.

"How can you be gay if you're a nullo and he's a man?" Tommy laughed.

"Yeah, gay is man to man, and we're not men, never will be!" Sammy smiled.

"Your ass is all you got left, pal," Tommy told him, "And there's nothin' wrong with feelin' good!" 3; 3;

3; 3;" 3;feels good?" Devon asked, but Maximillian just laid there with his eyes closed and his tongue just poking out from his lips. He'd never felt like that before. His daddy had never used the spout like that before. He felt like he was going to either pee all over or just bust, but he didn't want it to stop. "Uh huh," he managed.

What am I doing? Devon wondered, Is this a form of rape? But he can't do what Robbie can, Devon told himself, knowing full well that he himself really liked a good fuck. If it's the only way he'll know sexual pleasure, shouldn't he know now? Since Robbie can play with his penis? It ISN'T fair, Devon told himself, as his son shivered and moaned on his lap. Devon didn't stop.

After some time, Devon wasn't sure how long, and Maximillian's eyes popped open. He tightened up, his tremors more violent. He cried out, but Devon steadied him. All the while, he gently continued to stimulate the boy's prostate.

Then Maximillian yelled, convulsed so hard that he almost fell, and just lay there panting. Behind his tears, he was smiling.

"Daddy," he gasped, as Devon held him, also with tears in his eyes.

"Yes?"

"Do boys feel that good if they play with their penis?"

Devon smiled and kissed him. "No, son, they don't feel half as good."

Maximillian smiled and snuggled down onto his daddy's brightly colored shoulder, where the dragon breathed fire down his arm. Just like the fire on Maximillian's arm.

"Daddy, I love you," Maximillian whispered.

Devon just held him.

"Poor Robbie," the boy added.

Devon had to laugh as he traced a finger down and over the boy's back, making him shiver again. He'd made up his mind.

It was just as Maximillian had said:

It wasn't fair.

Because of a birth defect, Maximillian would never be much good to a woman, other than oral sex. He'd never have a son of his own, and he'd never know the pleasure that Devon saw in Bob every time that he watched him fuck Carol. It was ironic that by birth, and conceived in love, Maximillian had been given what Devon had had forced upon him because no one had loved him 3; 3;

3; 3;"No one loved me, so they just sold me," Devon had told his roomies. The two of them had just listened to his story, then moved to sit on his bed with him.

"The first rule in the slave boys' dorm," Tommy told him, "Is that you love your roomies, no matter what. Least, in here!"

Then he'd kissed him. Then so had Sammy. On the mouth, hard, and very seriously – just like the trainer had shown him how to do.

"It's all about love, or just making it look like love," Tommy told him. "Men might say it, some might mean it, but a nullo sayin' it to another nullo always means it."

And Devon had cried that night, fresh out of training and facing his cutting that night.

They were going to make him a nullo that night – make it so he couldn't fuck, jack off, or make babies. They were going to make it so that a man HAD to fuck him, if he wanted to know sexual pleasure.

And he could.

It felt good when his trainer fucked him.

He liked it.

But he hated to admit it.

He liked playing with his penis, too, but they were going to cut that off.

"I 3; I dunno what to think 3;," Devon mumbled, as he held tight to Tommy and Sammy 3; 3;

3; 3;and Maximillian. He shook his head and blinked. He was sitting on the rug in the bathroom, holding the child he called his son. He wasn't on the Island, and Tommy and Sammy weren't there. And he realized how much he missed them too.

So much of it wasn't fair, as he thought about the Island all the way through breakfast. He'd gone there in fear, he'd left there sad to being going away, and he'd loved his years there.

There was no doubting that.

As he cleared away the breakfast dishes, he made a decision.

"Robbie, Maximillian's staying home today. Daddy needs him, OK?"

"Is he sick?" Bob asked.

"No, but I might be," Devon said, as he took his son's hand. "Daddy wants you to go to work with him today, OK? We're gonna talk about masturbation, remember? How boys like Robbie can play with it and nullos can't?"

Carol choked on her coffee and Bob dropped his muffin. Robbie was already out the door, saying it wasn't fair that his brother got a day off.

"Masturbation for a eunuch?" Bob asked.

That question was answered when Devon presented his son with a very small vibrating dildo. "But you only get to use it now and then, OK?"

"What does it do?" Maximillian asked.

"It makes you feel good, better than with the enema spout," Devon told him.

Maximillian's eyes lit up.

"You're going to teach him how to 3;?" Carol asked, holding out her hands. "Is that wise?

"Robbie plays with his penis," Devon countered, "What's a poor little eunuch to do, then?"

Bob laughed. After all, it made sense.

"And if you're an especially good boy, daddy's got another special present for you later!" He told the boy, who was anxious to use his new toy.

Chapter 4
Here There Be Dragons

"You want him to watch an inking?" Carol asked. "Is that wise?"

"He knows how it's done," Devon nodded. "And he wants a real one. It's always been about his choices – everything in his life has been. If he sees what it's like, maybe he'll quit asking." Devon looked down at the floor. "And I need him to see it."

"I understand," Bob nodded, "The scale detail of your dragon on the stomach is getting rough and mangy. Too many sit-ups? You want ordinary ink and the needle?"

Devon nodded.

Maximillian took a seat next to the table in a high, padded swivel chair and watched as his daddy was strapped down at the wrists, ankles, waist and neck. "It's so I don't move and mess it up, buddy," Devon told him 3; 3;

3; 3;" 3;Don't move, you'll mess it up!" Ed was telling Devon, as the boy giggled and squirmed while his client brushed the ink over his skin with the rough brush.

"It tickles!" Devon squealed, shivering in delight as the dragon on his chest filled with bright green ink, rising up to the dragon's horns which just touched his green collar, matching the color of the ink perfectly.

"Pity it'll wash off tomorrow," Bob said.

Devon sighed. He loved it when Ed and Bob came to see him, but it was only rarely. They were his favorite clients, and he wished they could come more often. They hadn't brought Carol and Jeannine this time, and Devon had so wanted to see them too.

"Notice how the dragon's tongue just touches at his right nipple?" Ed asked, pinching it. Devon shivered and gasped. The brush was moving down his tummy, down towards his nullo place 3; touching him 3; coloring him 3; making him feel so good 3; he wanted to cry 3; 3;

3; 3;"Daddy does it hurt?" Maximillian asked.

"Yeah, but you get used to it," Devon gasped, as the needle buzzed, redefining the illustration of the dragon with new clarity as Bob's skilled hands drew it in. They'd been doing it for years.

"You get to like it," Bob reminded him, as the needle moved downward. Maximillian watched in fascination, visions of green dragons dancing in his head.

Daddy's so pretty, he thought. All the color, the big dragon that covered his whole front, the wings that covered his back. Then there was the tail, trimmed in yellow and outlined in red, which spiraled down his left leg from behind on his butt cheek, where it met the dragon at his 3; at his 3; nullo place! Maximillian touched his own nullo place. His fingers shook just a little. Carol was behind him, rubbing his shoulders. "Honey, if you feel faint, you tell Auntie, OK?"

"OK," the boy said dreamily.

"Devon, I don't know what's got into you," Bob talked as he inked, as Devon squirmed in his bonds, unable to move, approaching unknowable pleasure, but unable to attain it without help.

Just like always.

Dependent on someone else for his pleasure.

Dependent on Ed and Bob.

No, just Bob.

Ed was gone.

But someone was there, Devon knew, as the needle touched his most sensitive spot.

Devon cried out. The pain of it was so good.

"Daddy?"

Through the fog, Devon saw a very small version of Ed's face staring back at him in fascination.

"Daddy, does it feel good like I can feel good now?" A child's voice asked.

"'Daddy'," Devon said, euphoria overtaking him, "My son!" He sounded a bit stoned.

"Your son," Carol assured him, still making sure that Maximillian didn't fall out of his chair. He was looking pretty messed up, too, as he just sat and watched, touching himself, where there was nothing to touch. But no one corrected him. No one thought he was doing anything wrong.

"It won't come off, daddy?" 3; 3;

3; 3;"It'll come off in the shower, you know, boy," Ed said.

"I know," Devon whispered, curled up next to Ed in the bed in a high room of the guest hotel; a room that, unbeknownst to Devon then or now, would someday become the boys' dormitory. But Devon felt happy and safe there in their bed, and not just because he knew a camera was watching him for security reasons. Ed had told him he loved him.

And Devon had believed him.

All the clients had told him that.

But Devon believed Ed and Bob.

They always asked for him when they came, spending the whole day with him, and even waiting in the Island's airport lounge when they couldn't have Devon right off. THAT had been enough to get even Ben Toeber's attention, and from there on out, Devon had been Ed and Bob's boy, bar none.

They made Devon feel good. They bought him things. And they treated him differently than other clients did. There was something about the way they cuddled him, not groped him, which made the boy think of a mother holding a baby 3; 3;

3; 3;" 3;not a baby anymore,"

"What was that Devon?" Bob asked, as he looked at Carol. Carol whispered in Maximillian's ear:

"Remember what we talked about, about how boys like daddy feel good with sex?"

"Uh huh," Maximillian nodded. Carol then nodded to Bob, who pulled out a small vibrating plug. He inserted it into Devon's ass, as he continued his work. It didn't take long for Devon to climax. Carol held fast to Maximillian, making sure he didn't fall from his perch on the high chair. Devon strained in his bonds, sweating, struggling, an indefinable look on his face. Then he lay very still. Bob turned off the needle.

"I think he's done for a while. How's the boy?"

"I'm 3; I'm OK," Maximillian whispered, gazing in fascination as his daddy. "It's so pretty!"

"He wanted you to see how it was done," Carol told the boy, as she helped him down. Maximillian went to stand by his father, now asleep, and touched his arm. His fiery arm. Then he touched his own.

"They won't let me wear short sleeves at school," the boy said. He sniffled, but didn't cry. "Auntie, I'm tired," he whimpered. And he was. Watching the whole scene, and coming down from such an adrenaline rush, had worn the boy out. Carol hoisted him up onto the table, next to his daddy, and turned the lights down.

"I'll wake you for lunch," she promised.

"I love you daddy," Maximillian said, putting his head on his daddy's shoulder where the flames met the dragon's snout.

Carol closed the door.

"Are you sure that was a good idea?" She asked her husband.

"What, cutting school?"

"No! Watching THAT?!"

Bob shrugged. "Carol, they walked in on us, for pity's sake! How many boys see their daddy being fucked like that? It's a wonder the boy's not a serial killer by now!"

"That's not funny," Carol replied.

"Well, maybe now Maximillian won't keep hounding us for a tattoo," Bob said, as their first client of the day arrived.

"Ah, Joe, Room 2, please?" Bob asked, as the director of the local child welfare agency came in for a minor touch up to a scrape on his shoulder.

It was the smell of lunch that woke them up.

As Devon stirred, he realized where he was. He'd had some ink done, and he'd had an orgasm. He'd learned some years ago how the needle could drive him to orgasm, and they were always mind-blowing. But he was warm. Too warm. He focused, and saw Maximillian sleeping almost on top of him!

"Hey, buddy," Devon whispered, "Wake up! Maximillian?"

I never call him Max, Devon thought, as the boy stirred and rubbed his eyes. Then he hugged his daddy, tightly, and told him he loved him. "OK, daddy loves you too, buddy, but can you do daddy a favor? Undo the buckles before daddy starves to death?"

Maximillian laughed and did that.

"That was so cool!" Maximillian crowed, as they made their way to lunch.

"You just missed Joe," Bob told them.

"Good," Devon commented. "If I hear him call Maximillian 'ink-boy' one more time, I'll throttle him!"

They all laughed. Maximillian's ink adventure, after all, was a local legend to date.

"Darling, we have to run out and get some groceries later, would you be a dear and mind the store?" Carol asked.

"Sure," Devon smiled, "I always am, aren't I?"

After lunch, they left, with hugs and kisses goodbye.

Maximillian was just the right age to where he could have done without the wet kisses, though, and he said so!

"That's because they love us," Devon reminded him.

"I was 'specially good, you know," the boy reminded him.

"Were you?" Devon asked, picking him up and spinning him around. "Well, then, I guess you get that present after all?"

Maximillian laughed as his daddy carried him back into the tattoo room.

"It's in here?" the boy asked.

"It's in here," Devon nodded seriously. "Maximillian, buddy, I have to ask you something," Devon said, setting him down on the inking table. "I need to know if you're serious about this. You ask and ask and ask, just like I did, 3; 3;"

3; 3;"and you ask again, and I keep saying 'no'," Ben Toeber told Devon. "Wash-off ink is fine, but the real thing?"

"Wait until you graduate," Ben and Devon said in unison, and both laughed. But Devon really wanted to cry. It had only been a week, and he missed Ed and Bob so bad it literally hurt. Electronic letters and video calls just weren't enough. He wanted to be with them. He needed to touch them. He needed to have them touch him 3; 3;

3; 3;Devon touched his son's chest, laying him back on the table. "You learned a lot last night and this morning, kiddo," Devon said. "You know, all these years, and I was always so afraid I'd hurt you." He left his hand firmly on the boy's chest. "But you surprised me, Maximillian. Daddy's very proud of you, son."

Maximillian stared up at him, stared at the green dragon breathing fire. Surely his daddy wasn't about to 3;?

"Son, be honest with daddy. Do you really want ink? Ink that never ever comes off, just like your arm is? Ink that hurts going in?"

Maximillian could hardly believe it. His daddy was going to give him a real tattoo! He nodded dumbly.

"Say it."

"I 3; I wanna have ink, daddy!"

"Permanent?"

"The kind that never comes off!" The boy clarified, holding up his flaming arm.

Devon smiled at him. "I wasn't that much older than you when I learned how good sex could feel," Devon told him. "I was eleven."

"I'll be nine in a bit!" Maximillian said proudly, as Devon secured the boy to the table. He had to shorten the straps. "Daddy?"

"So you don't move," Devon reminded him, picking up a brush.

"Are you gonna make me feel 3; like uncle Bob did you?" Maximillian asked.

"No, son, you don't get to do that every day, and not right now. It'd be too much. Daddy's afraid your brain might blow up, or something, you know? It's a special treat, and we don't get to do it every day. Understand?"

The boy nodded, looking a little disappointed.

Maximillian squirmed and struggled as his daddy carefully brushed over the pre-made pattern he'd drawn on the boy with a fine tip marker. Then he took out the black ink and another finer brush. It was rougher, and it almost hurt. Maximillian watched, fascinated, as black lines began to cover his front. Down and down they went, forming after his daddy's hands, down over his ribs, stopping just short of his nullo place. All the while, he squirmed and struggled in his bonds, the brush tickling – almost hurting – him, and driving him crazy.

From his restrained angle, the boy couldn't tell what the pattern was.

Then Devon held up the bottle of brilliant green ink.

It didn't take long, applying the brushed ink. "It's like a coloring book," Maximillian laughed, as his daddy finished with the green and outlined it in red. Then he picked up the yellow. They were all the same colors that he had on his own body.

Maximillian was sweating and panting, too, when his daddy was done with him. But it was from laughing, the brushes tickled so much. Devon studied his latest masterpiece, then sighed heavily. "Maximillian, daddy needs to know if you want to 3;,"

"You gonna use the needle?" Maximillian interrupted him, "Like Bob did on you, daddy?"

Devon nodded.

"Only a little bitty bit, and only if you want me to. It hurts, buddy. It hurts bad the first time."

Maximillian met his daddy's gaze and nodded. "I wanna know how it feels, daddy, please?" He begged.

Devon loaded the needle with green ink. The only small square left to fill was low, very near Maximillian's nullo place. Very near where his boy parts should have been.

Devon turned the needle on.

It buzzed in his hand.

The sound filled the boy's ears.

Devon touched the needle to the tender pink skin.

And Maximillian screamed.

He'd never felt anything that hurt so bad in his life!

Maximillian bit his lip. He strained against the leather bonds, trying to arch his back. It felt like a thousand-million bees were stinging him, over and over. It hurt so bad he couldn't even scream again. All he could do was gasp and stare at his daddy's hand, since if he looked up, the room spun around.

Then the pain lessened.

A very odd and new feeling came over him, and he felt like he was floating. He looked down, down to where his daddy was putting green ink almost on his nullo place, as they called it.

It went on and on.

Maximillian wondered if it would ever be done.

But he didn't want it to get done.

He wanted it to go on and on.

He wanted to look just like his daddy.

Then the needle stopped.

Maximillian felt the straps loosen, and he curled up out of reflex. He was beginning to ache all over from struggling, unaware that he'd even been doing it. His daddy pulled him upright, helped him stand up, and steadied him on wobbly legs in front of a tall mirror for customers.

Maximillian's head cleared at once.

Standing before him was a boy whose right arm blazed in all yellows and oranges and reds. Across his chest, from his right shoulder down his tummy and just to the spot where his nullo place was, was nothing but color.

A great green dragon stood on its hind legs, clawing at his right side. Its mouth was open, spitting fire down his right arm, and its green scales, all yellow and gold underneath, were outlined in red. Only a very few places on the boy's front were plain pink skin, uncolored. He blinked. How long he stared, touching it, shivering, he didn't know. He couldn't move. He couldn't talk.

Then his daddy kissed his pierced ear.

"Daddy's so proud of you," Devon told him. "You did so good!"

"D-Dad-daddy, I love you," Maximillian choked, staring at the big dragon that rose up behind the little dragon in the mirror. Then a sheet of flame came across the little dragon, covering him, protecting him, pulling him close. The boy felt it and clutched at that warmth.

Then he fainted.

Devon told everyone that Maximillian was sleeping, so no one saw him until dinnertime. Actually, Maximillian was mildly sedated and under the influence of a muscle relaxer and pain pill, but Devon didn't mention that. But when the boy came down the stairs, there was silence in the house.

"Ahhh, Devon, tell me that's the wash-off kind of ink, and you turned your back on him again?" Bob finally said.

"That's cool!" Robbie piped up. "You look just like your daddy!"

"Almost," Carol added, turning Maximillian around and inspecting him. "His back's clean."

"And my nullo place," Maximillian added, "Tha's what daddy calls it." He just smiled at them. "Oh, and my legs, you know."

And while the flaming green dragon was as detailed as his father's design, the boy looked almost like a copy of him. It was only the face that was different, and the gauge of his earrings. And of course, his back wasn't covered, nor were his legs. The dragon was not complete.

But after such an ordeal, the boy was hungry, too.

"Whose brilliant idea was this?" Bob asked.

"Mine!" Maximillian smiled at him proudly.

"Did you use 3; the needle?" Carol asked nervously.

"Only in one small section, because he wanted me to," Devon admitted. "It's too much for him right now."

Robbie just gaped at them. "Not me!" He declared, shaking his head seriously. "I don't even like shots from the Doc!"

"So, are we going to finish it?" Carol asked, which stopped everyone again.

"If he wants to," Devon said.

"With the needle?" Maximillian asked hopefully, which made everyone look at him.

"Only a little bit, son, and with the special pain killing ink. The rest will have to be brushed on, daddy's new soak-in kind, like your arm."

"I think he'd swim in it, if you filled the pool," Bob commented.

Despite his aunt and uncle's misgivings, and long talk with Devon when the boys were excused from the table, Maximillian was very pleased with himself. Robbie told him that while it was fine for him, he certainly didn't want one! "What'll they say at school?" He asked.

"I don't care," Maximillian replied, and he really didn't. All he cared about was how he felt, in that his daddy had finally let him decide, and that he'd finally got a tattoo – one that would never come off. Besides, he had to wear a long-sleeved T-shirt for gym, and his legs weren't inked. No one would see it anyway, as they didn't take showers afterwards.

Later that night in bed, the little dragon stretched out in the shadow of the big dragon, Maximillian looked up at his daddy with pleading eyes. "Read me a story, daddy?" He asked. Devon nodded and picked up a book, showing the boy the cover art of a man standing there, his arms outstretched as if asking for something. His skin was totally covered in tattoos. Maximillian was fascinated.

"And they said that if you stared into the center of his tattoos, on his chest," Devon told the boy, "Where there was this eyeball, that it looked so real, and it had magical powers! Some people even went crazy if they looked at him for too long!"

"Read it! Read it!" The boy chirped.

" The Illustrated Man, Chapter 1, by Ray Bradbury," Devon began to read. "A centuries old classic!"

Despite Bob and Carol's misgivings, nothing really exciting came of Maximillian's dragon. They were concerned with the use of the needle of the boy, but Devon only used it for a few minutes at a time. With his special new ink, the variety that the boy had dipped his arm in some time before, there was really no need of it. Devon only used it occasionally, setting aside two evenings a week to work on his son's body. Slowly, and with painstaking care, the little dragon began to fill with details, almost coming alive on the boy's skin.

It covered his front, down his sides, growing more colorful and lifelike every week. As always, Devon would immobilize the boy to work on him. Maximillian would laugh and struggle at the rough brush that almost hurt, but not quite.

"Daddy," he asked one night, perhaps the third or fourth session, "Why did uncle Bob put that thing in your butt that first time I watched?"

Devon paused. "Because he knows it makes daddy feel good," he told the boy. "Just like your enema spout or your new toy does you." Devon knew what was coming next. Ever since he'd brought the boy to his first prostatic orgasm with the black spout, he'd known these questions were coming.

"When do I get to do it again?" Maximillian asked, since he knew it wouldn't happen every time.

"I don't know if that's a good idea tonight, son." Devon told him.

"Robbie gets to play with his penis whenever he wants to," Maximillian countered. "And I have to ask. It's not fair. He says it feels real good."

"You have to get used to it, son," Devon told him. "You can't just shove something up your butt whenever you want to, you'll hurt yourself. You have to be careful."

"Oh, OK," the boy conceded with a whine. "So how do I get used to it? Use it more?" He asked, meaning his little vibrator that he thought he didn't get to play with nearly enough.

Devon smiled at him. Maximillian was certainly wasting no time in wanting to learn! Wondering if he'd done the right thing or not, in introducing the boy to such pleasures so early, Devon remembered the doctor's suggestions about longer retention enemas. He'd left a kit, and Devon went to fetch it. In the small box, he found a miniature plug nozzle and held it up. "Do you really want this?" He asked.

"Please?" Maximillian asked, his eyes wide and hopeful.

Very gently, Devon prepped it and inserted it. The boy gasped. It hurt only a little bit going in, but when it settled in, he just lay there looking silly. Devon recognized that look.

"Feel good?"

"Yes, daddy."

Devon then went to work on his son again, filling in more detail of the little dragon's lower back on the boy's front. After a while, when he could tell that Maximillian was really enjoying himself, he switched from brushes to the needle, loaded with a diluted pain killing ink. The boy would still feel some sensation, but not the explosive pain of the regular ink. That would come later. As Devon outlined his navel, making it look like a part of the dragon, Maximillian fought his bonds and cried out, begging his daddy not to stop. Devon recognized the sign of an orgasm, and he was shocked. He'd had to learn how to do it. For his boy, it seemed to come naturally. For a moment, he thought he'd gone too far when Maximillian began to cry. But it was tears of pleasure, not suffering.

The final joining of the little dragon posed some problems, however.

Devon was reluctant to make his son's tattoo an exact match of his own, namely in the fact that would involve extending the ink down across the boy's lower abdomen – and right through his nullo place. Maximillian was excited about it, but Devon wasn't. They finally agreed that it could only be done with the full numbing ink, so that the boy wouldn't feel a thing. Of course he complained, saying it wasn't fair, but Devon stood his ground. "That didn't feel good," Maximillian informed him, disappointed that he'd not got that special feeling from it. Still, he now had the completion of the little dragon, and not just a disembodied tail pattern on his leg!

"I can't say I agree with it, or that I would let my kid do it," Joe – the social services agent – said, as he came by to inquire about larger gauge earrings for his own son and got a good look at Maximillian. "But so long as no one complains, don't expect ME to do anything about it!" It wasn't that he was a case worker; Maximillian's adoption had been final – there was no contesting it. He was simply one of their many customers, all of whom knew the boys, and all of whom were fascinated by Maximillian. Even a couple of his teachers were customers, and Mr. Wilson, the phys. ed teacher, came over a lot, too.

They all even began to call him 'The Illustrated Boy'.

By the time he was almost 10 and looking at the fourth grade, Maximillian's little dragon was almost complete. His entire front was finished, down past his nullo place joining the tail, and the bat-like wings on his back were filled in bright green. No one outside the household or the regular guests were any the wiser, though, as the boy kept his long sleeved shirt and dress jacket on, in compliance with the school rules.

But it bothered him, Maximillian.

Left to make his own decisions about his body since he'd been a baby, he just didn't understand why some people might not like him or the way he looked. It hurt his feelings to have to hide it, and even though he listened when his daddy explained it, he still just didn't get it. He understood that some people didn't want any kind of body modification, but HE did – and he liked it. He was proud of it. Why would that make anyone else mad at him?

"I see a problem coming, and I've got a bad feeling," Bob told them one night. "Call it a psychic twinkle."

"You're silly," Carol told him.

But the problem came just shy of Maximillian's tenth birthday. Fourth grade had started up, and when spring arrived, the boy was asking why he couldn't wear shorts to school anymore.

"You can't wear shorts to school anymore since put the dragon's tail on your left leg," Devon reminded him.

"I know," the boy nodded, "But daddy, I want to! Just like yours, pleeeeeease?" 3; 3;

3; 3;But no matter how much he said please, no matter how much he whined, Ben Toeber just wouldn't let Devon have a tattoo. He also didn't like the idea of the boy running around the island with the wash-off kind still on. It alarmed some of the guests and gave other boys ideas, Ben told him 3; 3;

3; 3;"No," Devon told him.

Maximillian was less than thrilled as he headed for school with Robbie.

If it hadn't been for the physical education classes at the upscale academy which both boys attended, there probably wouldn't have been a problem. There had been some parental inquiries and concerns expressed over Maximillian's 'accident' with his arm, but that had been solved by the long sleeved shirts and telling the boy to NOT show off his colors. But just as Bob had predicted, disaster hit when the class began swimming in the indoor pool.

"You CAN'T do it!" Robbie warned him on the way to school. "We have to wear those tight little swimsuits and you have to get naked and take a shower when you're done! Maximillian, you can't let 'em see you!"

"Why?" Maximillian snapped back him, suddenly very angry about it. The idea of having to sit out and do bookwork while everyone had a good time just rankled him. So did having to lie about having ear surgery that said he couldn't get water in his ears. "'Cause I don't have any boy parts? Or 'cause of my ink?"

"Both," Robbie answered him, "And I'm just tryin' to protect you. Jesus, bro, they'll tear you apart if they see you! You'll get laughed outta school!"

When they got there, Robbie was relieved to be called to the principal's office with his brother. The principal had already contacted Bob and Carol, and while they'd assured him that Robbie didn't have anything like his brother did, the principal had asked permission to inspect him first. This consisted of getting permission to have the boy present himself in his swimsuit in the office before anyone else saw him. Robbie didn't mind, but Maximillian did.

He'd finally had enough.

"And you, little man," the principal told him, "Will go to the library while PE class is on, until swimming is over with."

Undeterred, Maximillian followed Robbie to the changing room. There were several questions and comments, but no one thought much of it. After all, all his classmates had seen his arm and mostly been amazed and impressed with it. Most of them thought it was really cool, too. As they undressed, Robbie was almost hysterical, but he couldn't say anything. While the rest of the boys removed their shirts and shorts, Maximillian loosened his tie, undid his button-down long sleeved shirt and then pulled off his A-shirt.

"Jesus! Look at him!" Some boy squeaked.

Everyone looked. The room went dead quiet.

"Is that 3; real?" Someone breathed.

"Yeah, it is," Maximillian said defiantly. "It'll never come off."

"That is soooooo cool!" Someone else said, "Can I 3; can I touch it?" Maximillian nodded. Robbie almost fainted, sitting down hard on a bench.

Then, as if checking for wet paint, several of the boys' friends carefully poked at Maximillian's ink here and there, checking their fingers after they'd touch him.

"Lookit!" "It's so real!" "It's bright!" "Did it hurt?" "Did your daddy do it?" "Naw, they spilled new ink on him the first time." "So what, they just inked the rest of him?" "Wonder if my mom'll let ME get one?"

The boys went on and on until Mr. Wilson, the PE teacher, came in to see what the holdup was.

He raised one eyebrow and crossed his arms.

"Well, I can see your daddy's been busy, Maximillian," he commented, patting the tribal tattoo on his own upper arm.

Maximillian smiled at him.

"OK, everybody out, get wet!" The teacher yelled, and as they all scrambled out, he tossed a black and green suit at Maximillian. The boy laughed as the teacher patted his head. After all, he was one of his daddy's favorite customers. He'd been to the shoppe several times, and they were even friends. In fact, he'd help suggest the academy for the boys to start with and often came by the house for social calls. He also handed the boy a small, round padded piece of something. "Put that down the front, so nobody will know you're a eunuch," he whispered in his ear. "You shower last, I'll make you late on purpose, OK, so no one sees you?"

"I don't care if they see me, sir. But, how'd you know?" Maximillian gasped. He didn't think his teacher had seen him naked at home, at the shoppe before? The rule was you put on shorts if someone came over.

"It's best they not see you; they might not understand, or might make fun of you. And your daddy told me, because well, Maximillian, do you know what your daddy does sometimes, for fun?"

Maximillian's eyes lit up. He nodded.

"Do you fuck my daddy like uncle Bob does?" He asked innocently.

The teacher's face turned the same shade of red as Maximillian's dragon and nodded.

"Yeah, and he's damn good, too!"

"I'm gonna learn to do that to, you know, when I'm older, seeing as how I'm a nullo, too!"

Wilson shook his head and smiled. "Makes sense, I guess? Like father, like son?"

Maximillian laughed and took his trousers off. Wilson gasped. Although Devon had told him that Maximillian had been born with total male genital agenesis, just knowing was not nearly enough to prepare him for the shock of seeing Maximillian.

"Max, you're such a beautiful boy," he told him breathlessly, "And you're a braver man than I am," he added, sneaking him a quick kiss. "Your daddy has every reason to be proud of you!"

Maximillian grinned and touched his nullo place. Wilson gasped and hurried from the room. "Suit up!" He called back.

A distraction to the learning process was an understatement when Maximillian made his appearance. Given the color scheme of the swimsuit, he would have almost looked naked. That was to everyone but Robbie, who was trying to look obscure and trying to not have heart failure.

And when the little dragon got wet, his colors shone even brighter.

So did the flames.

Everyone watched as Maximillian dived in, showing Mr. Wilson what he'd learned at home in their pool already. In fact, Maximillian was a very good swimmer. Then he got out of the pool and turned around to face them all, hands on his hips, and smiling proudly.

Robbie realized it, but no one else had.

No one else could tell with all the colorful ink.

He hadn't put the swimsuit on.

Maximillian was naked.

NEXT PART