Sidney Gittler
Arkansas Vacation
Chapters 16-19
Chapter 16 Oscar Night
(Arkansas Vacation 10)
The following chapter is completely and 100% fictional except for the obvious accuracy in the results from the 2000 Academy Awards. The references to the awards and actors do not mean they endorse anything else in the story.
Spring is returning to southeastern Arkansas and the residents of Peckertown are out and smiling after the long winter. My fellow northerners and I continually remind the locals what they consider winter we consider fall. Granted as 1999 turned into 2000 there was a light coating of snow on the ground, but it was gone by the time the first college football bowl game started.
But given the cooler temperatures, and the increased dampness, the boy whores started wearing more clothes. Mike and Mark, for example, went from just their thongs to gym shorts and a basketball jersey to long baggy jean shorts and a heavy windbreaker. No shirt just the windbreaker, which spent most of its time unzipped. Even Lance wore a flannel shirt and moccasins. But then, as he said my first week here, if one Trip gets sick none of the Trips work.
As with almost everything there was the exception to prove the rule. His name is Angus and he arrived the beginning of December from Maine. Fifteen, well muscled and a mop of flaming red hair. He got off the bus on a damp, chilly afternoon, took a deep breath and smiled. Then quickly stripped to running shorts.
With that combination, plus being a new boy, Angus started getting a lot of business, which pissed off some of the other boys. According to Matt some boys almost lost it when Angus was heard saying he couldn't believe it was that warm.
Outside of the Jorgenson clan you've learned about other boys like Cody and Kenny who came into money of their own. What's really amazing is that with help and advice they've all gotten richer. Cody and Justin have even paid all their creditors back in full, and six months to a year earlier than we figured. They even moved out of their apartment and into a three-bedroom house a couple of blocks from Lion and me.
Across the street from them live our newest multimillionaires, Mark and Mike. Or should I say Mark, Mike, Zeus and Tad with Keith going back and forth between his brother's house and his lover's home. It's a large house, five bedrooms, the first time in their lives that Mark and Mike each have their own. Though it's a rare night that all the beds are used.
The identical twins' father and stepmother shit their pants when our lawyer Henry Silvers and José Sanchez, the reporter from Time Magazine, showed up on their doorstep with the process server. The suit asked for the entire fifty million they had won in the California lottery. Sanchez had a draft of an article, complete with photos, of their sons' lives in Peckertown and how they'd been booted out of their home. It was amazing how quickly they settled for twenty million. And a promise by Sanchez not to submit the story to his editors at Time.
He gave it to People instead. The cover spread on the boys was priceless publicity for Peckertown.
We presented the check to Mark and Mike on the Ides of March. They were stunned.
"We never have to work again," Mark said grabbing his brother's hand.
"But what are we going to do? We've never had any money before, we barely make the rent every month. What do we do?" Mike said.
"Whatever you want man," Tad said.
"Quiet boy," Zeus said ruffling the boy's hair. Tad climbed into the big black man's lap and snuggled down.
"Mark, Mike, the check's going right into the bank where it'll be safe. We'll set up some investments to make sure you have a steady income and be set for the rest of your lives," Silver said.
"Sir, Mike and I appreciate everything you've done and want you to have the fee we promised you. Thing is we don't got much schooling, only one skill."
"Skills you're experts at, but ones you never have to do for pay again," I said. "Look guys. There's no rush. Remember, you're only fourteen nobody expects you to adjust to this instantly. Hell, I'm 48 and probably would go into shock if somebody showed me a twenty million-dollar check with my name on it."
"Let's not go there love," Lion said and everybody laughed.
"There is one thing I'd like to do," Mike said several moments later.
"What?" I said.
"The Oscars are a week from Sunday night. I want to host a party for all the boys at the hotel with a couple of big screen televisions, open bar, food, the works. Let's give everybody a night off and a chance to party together. Everybody, whores, slaves, restaurant workers, natives who hung around, everybody.
"Cool idea bro. Can we pull it off in time Marc?" Mark said.
"Anything scheduled for the hotel ballroom Zeus?"
"Now there is. I'll get it set up as soon as I get there. Only question is how many can we expect?"
"You going to close the Little Leather Club for the night?" Mark said.
"Why not, we'll have the afternoon show and that's it. I'm sure Benjy will agree that they deserve a night off. I'll get dad to close the Tasty Buns too so those guys can come," Lion said.
"Fine, Zeus work the hotel staff however you want but everything's got to be covered," I said.
"You got it boss, but that brings us back to the question. How many people are we expecting?"
"At least two hundred, maybe closer to three," Mark said.
"Shit, I didn't know there were that many boys working here," I said.
"Between the whores, the clubs and restaurants, the hotel, etc. there's probably closer to five hundred. Hell, we've got close to two hundred working for us alone," Lion said.
"Plan for three hundred Zeus, regular family catering rates."
"Yes boss, now I'd better be getting back and get things going."
"We'll go with you, if that's all right?" Mike said.
"Come on, it's your party."
The flyers were distributed two days later, on Friday. By Saturday night every business that employed boys had notices in their windows announcing they would be closed on the twenty-sixth after four. Fortunately we had asked them to call the hotel or sign up at the Big Lick or the Tasty Buns if they were coming. By Sunday night we had four hundred boys coming, with a week to go.
Zeus had the biggest problem. At first he said the regular shift would work that night and extra help in the kitchen. The boys blew. He asked for volunteers, none, even at double-time. Scott, our young security chief, finally suggested they take the four to two shift and break it into two hour turns so everybody would have plenty of time at the party. Zeus agreed and so did the boys.
That Scott came up with the idea and the boys freely agreeing to it really made Zeus happy. It was a great show of teamwork and cooperation when things could have gotten messy.
By the Thursday night deadline we had 556 reservations, and that didn't include the hotel staff. Daniel, Scott, Chef Emryl, the twins and I sat down with Zeus that evening.
"Daniel, I thought you said there were tops five hundred boys working in this town. Where am I going to fit that many boys?" Zeus said.
My lover shrugged, "I really thought it was more like four hundred. The idea that there's probably more than seven hundred boys is frightening really."
"Five, six, a thousand out there I don't care. How do I prepare for that many people?" Chef Emryl moaned in a thick Boston accent.
"They'll eat anything and everything you put in front of them. Some of them probably won't eat until then. How am I going to control them?" Scott spat.
"Shut up Scott, you may have been lucky and not having to work the street but we're not animals. I didn't expect this many either but you set up the guidelines of where you want the food, where the TV's are going to be, whatever and we'll follow them. Anybody gets out of hand that's one thing, but my bro and I are throwing this party so our friends can have a fun night," Mike said.
"Friends, yeah right. All you guys do is suck and screw and somebody who pays is God and
3;"
Scott didn't have a chance to finish because Mike leapt out of his chair and across the table. Zeus grabbed him as Scott pulled a sap out of his pants' pocket. I grabbed the arm and forced it behind his back.
"Zeus, you take control here, Scott you're coming with me."
"Fuck you."
I'd never seen such anger in him, not even when he'd first hit town.
"Shut up and move," I said.
"Or what?" Scott said but moved to the door. I followed him to his office and locked the door behind us. Scott moved behind his desk. I pointed to one of the two guest chairs.
"This is my office and that's my chair," he said.
"And I am your boss so you damn well sit where I tell you to."
"Or what?"
"Don't go there."
"Or what?"
"Or you walk out of here and find yourself a new job."
"You wouldn't."
"I should, what you did in there was uncalled for. What the hell is eating you?"
"None of your damn business, boss."
The way he said boss stung, I deserved it but it still stung. I held up my hands and took a deep breath, held it for a moment before letting it out.
"Can we start over Scott? You got me upset in there and maybe I overreacted, but talk to me, as a concerned boss if not a friend."
Scott slumped into a chair and buried his eyes. I could hear him sobbing so I pulled the other chair next to his and pulled him close.
"I was going to quit anyway," Scott finally said.
"Why?"
"It's the sex. I can't take all the sex around me. I worked with Zeus, I really did, but every time I see a boy head up the elevator with a man it tears me to pieces. I don't even have to close my eyes to see them being raped and used."
"Like you were." It was a statement, not a question, but Scott nodded anyway. "Don't you see the difference?"
"I try to, but the same elevator comes back down with a family heading out to the pool and I know it's a lie. They should be home, in school, with their parents."
"Your parents are dead Scott."
He shoved me off and his eyes bore into me. "Don't I fucking know that? Don't their faces haunt me every day? Every day they tell me to move on, be happy but they're fucking dead so how can I be happy."
I sat back and looked around the room. How to answer that? Then I looked at the calendar hanging on the wall and pointed. "This Saturday is the anniversary of my mother's death and I'll go to church and pray to God that she and dad are together in heaven. I miss them too, but I've got my sister and her family. I've got all my friends down here, including you. Most important I have my Lion, and that makes me happy. Can you understand that?"
"I guess, but I just can't cope here right now," Scott said.
"How you and Frank doing?"
"Crappy, he's trying but," he shrugged.
"You think quitting here will help?"
"I've got to try something or I may lose him. Then where am I?"
"I'm not going to let you quit," I said.
"Can't stop me, just won't come to work."
"I'm going to transfer you to the industrial division. We've got four warehouse operations at different highway exits and we need a new security supervisor."
"Serious?"
"Yeah, you have to Sunday to pick your successor and fill him in. Take Sunday night off, and that's an order, and start the new assignment Monday morning."
"Thanks Marc. How about Sargent? He's my best man and wants out of his regular job."
"Talk to him, if he's interested sit down with Zeus. Now go home and snuggle with your honey."
"Thanks Marc, but I think I'd better apologize first, and before you offer it's something I have to do myself," Scott said.
"You're right, let's go."
***
The buzz grew around town as Sunday approached and finally arrived. By noon on Sunday the park was empty and the clubs were closed. The only stores doing business were the barbers and clothing stores. The notice had specified non-business attire. OK, it actually said everybody must come in regular clothes and not working clothes, or lack thereof. The only guy really worried in the whole town was Beau LeCistern, Peckertown's Dept. of Utilities Director. The Jorgenson Inn was fully booked for the night, at least half by groups of boys looking for a place to shower and dress before the party, and not have to worry about finding their way home after.
The twins showed up at four dressed in two-piece navy suits with matching shirts, no tie, loafers without socks. Their long blond hair tied back in a tight ponytail that reached their asses.
"Go on in and see what it looks like," I said.
"And how do we look?" Mark asked.
"Like handsome young men," I said. They beamed at a normally innocuous remark.
Daniel and I followed them into the ballroom. Along the walls were giant cardboard Oscars. Along one was a long line of rectangular tables with warming trays for the hot food and some of the cold trays were already out. On the opposite wall say two 96" [2½ m] televisions built on special platforms eight feet [2½ m] off the ground. Roger Ebert's preview show was on and sound was perfect. At the far end a guitar started playing If I were a Rich Man from Fiddler on the Roof. I laughed and started singing the lyrics so the boys would get the joke as well.
"But we didn't order a band," Mike said.
"It's part of the package and Yoshi and Powersound asked for the gig. They'll play dance music until the show starts."
"Cool."
Boys started arriving around five, patiently standing in line as their names were checked off the list. There were about twenty drag queens and they made fine looking young women entering on the arms of their young men.
The music started with the band playing a lot of dance music and the boys moving gracefully all over the floor. As I watched I knew one thing for sure, gay boys have rhythm. The boys not dancing were either at the food tables filling their plates or at the round tables filling their mouths and talking.
After Barbra Walter's annual celebrity gossip and the "let's see the beautiful people walk in and try to make them look like our friends" pre-Oscar show the main event finally started and Powersound put down their instruments for the first time and made a mad dash for the bar and food.
The boys either found seats at the tables or sat on the floor. A lot of pairing up but just a lot of snuggling going on as Billy Crystal did his routine. Needless to say there were three categories that really interested all of us that night. The first up was Best Supporting Actress. Everybody was cheering for Chloe Sevigny for Boys Don't Cry. I don't know if any of us had seen it, Peckertown's more of a video town, but we all identified with the story. The room filled with cheers when they showed her scenes and boos when she lost.
Then there was Harley Joel Oswald. When he came out in his mini-tux to introduce a series of film clips of other child actors the room erupted in applause. Though the most common phrases heard were "marry me," "fuck me" and "let me fuck you baby." Naturally, there were more catcalls when he lost. But when Michael Caine mentioned him in his speech he was forgiven.
As the evening wore on and on and on everybody started to pay less attention to the screens. The highlight for that chunk of the show was the musical numbers honoring past Oscar Best Song winners and then the current nominees. There was an impromptu dance contest which two of the slaves from the Little Leather Club won by really staying in the flow of the music as they went from song-to-song. Even Blame Canada.
All of a sudden Lance and his brothers jumped on the bandstand and yelled for everybody's attention. From our perch high above the floor I turned down the televisions' volume and turned the mike's back up. Interested to see what they had planned.
"Now this thing is going on forever so let's have some fun. The guy upstairs will let us know when it's Hilary's turn to win."
A loud roar of approval.
"But we talked to Big Sol and he authorized us to run two contests here tonight. The first is a drag contest. All you girls come up here and the five best will go to the Big Lick next Sunday night for the finals and cash prizes. So come on up girls. And Trey, no putting those two glasses under your shirt and pretending they're boobs," Lance said.
From all over the room the 'girls' started moving.
"Hey Lion, come on down and help us judge this thing, you too Benjy," Lance called.
"Duty calls," Lion said he kissed me and slipped out of the balcony. By the time he arrived on stage there were twenty-three queens strutting their stuff. As I said before most of them were really good. The five judges got them in a line and had them go one-by-one along the front with instructions to sell it.
"Hey, we're gay here, what's with the girls?" somebody yelled and got a good laugh.
Finally they had their finalists picked.
"Marc, how much time do we have?" Richie called up.
I took a glance at the monitor and the clock, automatically yawned. "Half-hour or so. Start the second contest and if we have to interrupt it we will."
"Cool. OK men, for this part we need two more judges. Kenny and Sergei come on up because we're not letting you in this one," Rich said. As the two lovers moved forward I could guess what was coming.
"OK, now for the bodybuilding contest. Guys, take your shirts off and strike a pose. Same deal as before, five finalists go on to next Sunday night for cash prizes."
Now I've never been big into bodybuilding, especially the real extreme cases who look puzzled if you ask them what else they do. Now none of the thirty or so boys who walked up were that extreme, but man they were hunks.
When everybody was up Kenny took the microphone. "Now guys, you're all solid and deserve to be up here. Now Sergei and I are going to show you three basic poses. You'll do them and that's how you'll be judged. Now watch." With that Kenny handed Richie the mike back and pulled his shirt over his head. There were gasps from around the room.
As the contestants did their poses there was one who caught my eye. Easily the youngest he was also one of the most chiseled. Not only did he cruise through the set but kicked each up a notch higher than anybody else. Not only was I salivating but so were Kenny and Sergei. Naturally he was one of the ten semifinalists.
"Short stuff, come over here," Sergei said in his thick Russian accent.
The boy grabbed another mike. "Name's Quentin, not short stuff."
"Well Quentin, that was quite a performance. How old are you?"
"I'm thirteen and I've been doing this for nine years and I had a bedroom full of age group trophies."
Sergei bent over. "I believe it, and I started at four too, so get your ass back in line and all of you try and do what I do."
He started slowly but quickly picked up the pace and I guessed difficulty. Five minutes into it three of the boys dropped out but Quentin almost seemed a half-step ahead of the Russian.
Two thoughts flew into my mind as I watched. The first was that we had to find a job for this boy somewhere in the company. Second, I wanted to conduct the interview in bed with my cock up his well muscled bubble butt.
I looked at the television set and clicked my mike on. "Five minutes."
Kenny whispered something in Lance's ear and got a nod in return. "OK Sergei, times up."
Sergei and the seven remaining contestants stopped moving and all took long, deep breaths.
"I just talked with Lance and all seven of you are in the finals. You have one week to work on your routines. Any of you want to come over at nine any morning to work with us you're invited. Now Marc, hit the sound and let's get back to Oscar," Kenny called and cheers rang up from throughout the room. From someplace Bobbie, the third Trip, appeared with an armful of towels so the contestants and Sergei could dry themselves off.
The room remained silent through Hilary Swank's clip. Not only was this our last chance to win but Brandon Tina represented us in a way that none of us could probably explain. Or maybe it really is simple for the boys and boy-lovers of Peckertown.
Like Brandon Tina we're all outcasts and we all feel for each other.
"And the Oscar for best performance by an actress in a leading role goes to Hilary Swank."
The room went nuts. The yelling and screaming. The hugging and jumping for joy threatened to bring down the walls.
"We did it," Lion said and jumped all over me.
When Swank took the podium I turned up the volume and the room settled down. A huge roar the first time she referred to Brandon as him.
When she left the stage with the statue clutched to her breasts the party changed course fast. Lion and I looked down at six hundred teen boys who know only one way to celebrate.
Orgy.
Where to start, where to start? Not with Cody, Justin, Daniel and me stripping up in the balcony as we lower the lights.
"Shit," Cody said and we followed his finger. Over in the corner his brother Keith, Tad and Quentin were going at it in the far corner. Keith and Tad were toweling off the naked weightlifter. Gently rubbing the glistening muscles as the youngster flexed for the younger boys. Finally Keith knelt in front of Quentin's cock and swallows the rod whole while Tad spreads the boy's cheeks and starts tongue fucking him.
Lion's finger directed us to a scene developing in the middle of the floor. Two boys had started sixty-nining on the floor and each was being fucked by a boy who was being fucked by a boy who was being fucked, shit you get the idea.
"I wonder what the world record is for the biggest daisy chain," Justin whispered and we all laughed as we groped our partners.
"You count and we'll call Guinness in the morning," Cody said right before he went down on his lover and partner's cock.
I took Daniel in my arms and nodded over at the pair. Daniel nodded back and whispered, "he's back." And Cody was back to his old self with the restaurant a success, and Keith happy with Tad and over his incestuous desires for his big brother the old Cody had returned. Still neurotic mind you but back.
Daniel's and my lips met and it was several minutes before we looked at the floor again. One of the tables had been brought into the center of the floor and Pedro, one of the slaves, had been tied face down the long way and was being fucked at both ends. The ultimate bottom was having a blast as a third boy was caning Pedro's back when he had a clear shot.
Another boy had been hogtied and boy after boy is going over and stroking him. He's thrashing around but between the tight cock ring and the prince's wand he wasn't going to be shooting anytime soon.
A yelp from almost below us caught our attention. Benjy, his boyfriend Roger, and a young boy with a fresh slave brand were down there with a circle around them. The new slave was on his hands on knees and sucking Roger's cock.
Behind him the youngest Jorgenson boy had three fingers up his ass. Then four and finally five. Slowly Benjy's hand, wrist and finally arm disappeared up the slave's rectum. Roger had a tight hold on the boy's hair and was forcefully face fucking him so he couldn't scream at the pain Benjy's muscular arm was causing. One of the other slaves crawled underneath and started sucking the slave and soon another daisy chain developed.
What happened next I can't tell you. Why? Well at that point I was distracted by a very sexy mouth around my own cock and I decided to return the favor.
I moved around without disturbing Daniel and started licking his succulent cock. Almost fifteen-and-a-half he's still as hairless as the day he was born. Of course now it's due to a regular shaving regimen. Either way I loved licking and slowly swallowing that baby smooth prick.
When my lips reached his crotch he moaned with delight and I tasted the first drops of his precum. It didn't take me long to swallow his rod and smell his crotch scent. I inhaled deeply as I ran my tongue around his pulsating tool. The smell of musk, sweat and love was too much and I quickly filled his throat with my cum.
When Lion finished swallowing my cum he pulled out of my mouth, turned me onto my back, raised my legs and entered me. The sounds of raw sex rose from beneath us as well as from Cody and Justin on the other side of the balcony. If there was anybody not having sex at that moment it was only because they were recovering from an orgasm and searching for the next partner.
For myself I was satisfied with the love of my life slowly fucking my insides as I gazed up into his gorgeous eyes. His long black mane bounced in time with his thrusts. As I felt him getting closer I automatically tuned out everything else and just focused on him. Working my ass muscles to further stimulate the engorged cock that was now rapidly pounding my insides apart.
Finally, with a loud roar, he came, filling my anus with his love and forcing me to a second orgasm.
We collapsed in each others arms, kissed and said, "I love you."
About ten minutes later we turned over and resumed surveying the action below.
I turn my head to the right and see that cute new Norwegian boy. His name is Sindra, he just moved here with his father to open up a seafood restaurant. Sindra is a cute little nymph with medium-length blond hair all nicely combed out and parted just right.
Right now Sindra is getting his small ass filled by a nice looking fifteen year old boy named Reece. Reece has shoulder-length, dirty blond hair and gray-blue eyes. Reece has a little bit of fur on his low hanging balls, and I watch them fly back and forward and slap into Sindra's butt as Reece's 6 inches [15 cm] of cut teen meat slams into Sindra's boy hole. While Reece is fucking Sindra, I see the cute little blond boy has taken the redheaded Macmillian twins dicks into his mouth. I watched the two thirteen year old flat topped red heads, pump there little four inch [10 cm] cut tools in and out of Sindra's mouth. The twins' freckled backs drip with sweat as they pound Sindra's swollen jaw.
Underneath Sindra a young boy, I think his name is Logan, was sucking on Sindra's little tool and playing with his grape-sized balls. The boy, twelve, hairless and cut. His pricklet bounced in time with his sucking.
Reece pulled his thick seven inches [18 cm] out of Sindra's ass and started jacking his rod. Reece shot his load over Sindra's back. Logan reached over, took some of Reece's cum to lube Sindra's balls. Sindra hunched his back and lifts his butt. I see by the way his body is shaking that he's having a very enjoyable orgasm. Looking at his face I realize the twins ejaculated as well because there are large strands of milk white cum hanging off his lower lip, and even more being forced out of his mouth as the twins continue pumping their dicks in and out of his mouth.
How to end this segment? There is only one way. At two in the morning the Powersound drummer takes his seat, wipes a few loads of cum off his face and hands, picks up his sticks and goes to work. I turn the spotlight back on softly and focus it on him. The sweat is pouring off his naked body as the rest of the band joins him. After twenty minutes of hard jamming Yoshi leaps and when he lands the band goes silent.
Yoshi takes a couple of deep breaths and taps the mike. I turned the sound up and after the fourth tap he nods.
"Gentlemen, there are two people responsible for this party. Can we have a long and heartfelt round of applause for Mike and Mark Snitz."
I turned the spotlight to where they were sitting and the applause grew and grew. Then the music started playing and four figures entered the light. Four identical figures.
"Has to be the Maloney Quads," Justin said.
"The ones who bought the multiplex?"
"Yeah, them and their dad just moved here from Australia," Justin said.
"Identical?" I said while wiping the drool from my lower lip.
"Down to their braces. Thirteen, brown hair with blond streaks, four inch [10 cm] uncut cocks which grow to six [15 cm] and stick straight out when hard," Cody said.
"And how do you know that much detail?" Lion said arching an eyebrow.
"I was in the showroom when they applied for work, got turned down when they said they only wanted to work until the theater was ready to open."
"Oh shit," Justin said and we looked back down.
Each identical twin was being tongue bathed by a pair of identical quads as the rest of the boys gathered around. When all the sweat had been licked off each twin the quads switched places and one started sucking while the other lowered their asses over their twin's mouth, spread their cheeks and got rimmed.
Every boy who could still get an erection was beating off, and probably a lot who couldn't.
The sucking quads finally stood revealing two erect poles. The other quads moved down, lined up erections to openings and quickly sat till their cheeks were an inch from their twin's crotch.
"Oh shit yeah, do it boy, fuck your ass," Mark and Mike said together.
And the two Maloneys did just that. Slowly moving up and down as their two brothers proceeded to stick cocks down their throats. That was too much for a whole bunch of boys who shot their loads.
About five minutes later Mike and Mark took control and without pulling out moved into the doggie position and started humping faster and faster. This caused another group to go over the edge. And a whole lot of applause for successfully pulling off the difficult maneuver in sync.
Keeping in tune they eventually pulled out and covered the pair of matching backs with matching loads of boy cum. Sated, they lay back down. The quads stood around them and shot their loads over the twins.
They moved away and boy after boy took their place until Mark and Mike were covered with hundreds of loads of cum.
That marked the end of the party and the only thing besides the party that was discussed for the next week were the upcoming contests at the Big Lick. There was such a demand for reservations that Sol called Zeus in a panic and rented the showroom for the night.
In case you had any doubt Quentin won the bodybuilding contest. I gave him a job interview for the hotel gym but Kenny and Sergei hired him for their gym. But it was a great interview.
Chapter 17 The Rowboat
by RH
The following story is set just outside of Peckertown, AK. Of course since Peckertown doesn't exist then nothing in the story really happened either.
Jason sat in the driver's seat of the rowboat, trying his best to maintain a straight course across the secluded end of Peckerwood Lake. Failing miserably, our little craft wove and wandered anywhere but in the direction of the cove we wanted to fish. I decided it was time to assist, as I so often did in school when he lost his way in my class.
Sitting in the aft seat facing him, I put my hands on top of his and began to guide each of his oar strokes. Our course straightened out, and with each stroke, my hands passed tantalizingly within inches of his 14 year old crotch. He seemed a bit self conscious, but was far too conditioned into following directions to object. After a few minutes of steady rowing, we entered the lovely little cove we had set out for.
The early afternoon sun was strong on this perfect June day, and we were both quite warm. I pulled off my tee shirt, and suggested to Jason that he do the same. Then I suggested that he ought to shed his jeans and get some sun on his legs. With school barely closed for the Summer, neither of us had gotten much sun yet. Being an obedient boy, he slipped off his pants, leaving only his Speedo swimsuit on.
"We better get some sun screen on you, or else you'll burn to a crisp in 10 minutes," I told him, shifting to the seat next to him and picking up the bottle of sun goo. "Hold still; I'll put it on."
I began rubbing some on his teenaged shoulders. I was massaging gently as I went, and a small groan of pleasure slipped out of his mouth. I worked my way across his adolescent shoulders and down his back, and then returned to the top and started on his chest, gently rubbing down his firm, slender pecs, and giving special attention to the nipples, which began to erect in response to my ministrations. I continued down his stomach to the top of his briefs. His nipples were not the only item that had started to erect; his penis was straining to straighten inside the smooth fabric of his suit. I let it stay that way, and shifted my attention to his legs.
Kneeling down, I started applying sun screen to his toes, and worked my way up the smooth legs to the knees. His legs were still baby-smooth, with only the slightest blonde down covering them. I began my approach up his thighs, moving in ever widening circles over the top of his legs, down to the inside and back to the top. He was breathing heavily and sweating now, beads of moisture standing out on his face, and sweat trickling down his sides. He clearly needed to straighten out his penis, but he was too embarrassed to do it. I sat back on the seat again, straddling it with Jason between my legs. I returned one hand to his lower back and slipped inside his suit, rubbing his buns as far down as I could. In front, I reached the junction of swimsuit and thigh, rubbing lotion between his legs, stroking against his scrotum with the back of my hand as I did so. I placed a gentle hand on his bulging penis.
"Let's put some screen on this part too," I said. "The sun will burn right thru that thin nylon."
With that, I reached up and pulled his Speedos down over his raging hard-on, which immediately sprang up straight. He was still a growing boy, and about five firm, slender inches [12½ cm] stood straight up at a slight angle from his belly.
I gave it a light squeeze, and then applied sun screen to his abdomen, working my way bit by bit down to his just-sprouting bush of pubic hair. I worked the lotion into the hair and around the base of his penis, and then massaged his balls. Finally I returned to the penis, so hot now I could feel its heat as soon as I touched it. Running my fingers along its length, I gave it another squeeze, and then started firmly massaging the head, well lubed with lotion. Jason was panting now, squirming under my hands, and beginning involuntary pelvic thrusts against my hand. After very few strokes, he erupted into my hand, shooting strong streams of teenage cum onto his middle.
He sort of collapsed then, leaning against me. I pulled his head against my shoulder and hugged him.
"What happened to me?" he asked.
"You just had an orgasm," I answered. "Was that your first time?"
He just nodded.
"Did you like it?" I asked.
He nodded again, and smiled.
"Would you like to do it again?"
He nodded again, and closed his eyes in post-orgasmic relaxation. Given his youth, I figured he'd need at least five minutes to rest before getting it up again.
I was wrong. He only needed three.
I continued to hold him, gently rubbing the cum over his tummy and up to his chest. The cum wasn't even dry when he started to erect again. He opened his eyes and started stroking his stiffening cock. This time, however, I had different plans.
"This is a real day of firsts for you," I said. "First time in a rowboat, first orgasm, first jerk-off with anyone else
3;"
"First jerk off, period," he said. "I was always afraid to touch it when it got hard. My mom used to tell me it would break off if I touched it when it was hard, so I never did."
"I'll bet she taught you that it was dirty and gross, too, didn't she?" I said.
He nodded.
"Well, Mom's wrong again. Let's do your next first now. I'll show you how."
I moved back from him enough to lean down to his crotch. I took his stiff dick in my mouth briefly and gave it a good lick. He gasped.
"This is how you do a blow job," I told him. "Lick and suck, and keep your teeth out of the way."
I returned to his little head, and he groaned with pleasure.
"Get the idea? Good. Now it's your turn."
I pulled his head into my lap, and he shifted from the seat to the floor of the boat. He unzipped my shorts and took out my stiff cock; I had worn no underwear for just this reason.
He hesitantly took hold of my cock, looking at it closely.
"I've never seen a man's penis stiff like this," he said. "I always figured something was wrong with mine when it got hard."
"Thanks to Mom again," I told him. "Now forget her, and suck." I emphasized the instruction by firmly guiding his head onto my cock. Being the obedient boy he was, he easily complied.
He held my cock for a brief moment more, and then began licking it, gently touching the head, moving down to the very bottom, caressing my balls. He licked it up and down like a melting popsicle and then licked my balls with his delicate tongue. He sucked them into his lips and gave them a wonderful mouth massage and then returned his attention to my stiff rod, working his way from the base back up to the top. When I thought I could stand no more, he took my swollen head into his mouth and sucked and licked and sucked and licked. I grabbed hold of his head and held him steady as I began to fuck his face, finding a rhythm with him that was totally natural but which nearly capsized the small boat.
As my ecstacy mounted, we increased our speed until with a cry of joy I erupted into his mouth. Probably the most intense orgasm of my life flooded into his mouth, more than he could swallow, three, four, five streams of thick creamy cum. Some of it leaked out of his mouth and dribbled down his chin.
I pulled him up to me and kissed him. I wiped the cum off his chin and fed it to him. He eagerly licked it off my fingers, and then sucked on my fingers for a few moments more.
"What do you think Mom would say about this?" I asked him.
"She'd refuse to admit it," he said, "but one time I saw her and Dad in the bedroom through the open door, and I think she was doing the same thing."
"But, we don't need to let her know that you know, do we," I suggested. "We wouldn't want to burst her bubble."
"No, we wouldn't want to do that. I'll let her go on thinking I'm afraid to touch my cock when it's hard. It'll be easier that way."
"Or harder, maybe," I commented, "Given the condition of your cock at the moment." And I reached down to grab his dick, newly erect, and ready for more adolescent action. "Let's see if it really does break when you hold it!"
Just then, the alarm horn sounded from the landing. While we had been enjoying each other, the sky had clouded over, and the wind had picked up. A summer storm was building, and it was time to return to shore.
So we began rowing back, this time together, Jason on one side, me on the other, rowing with strong coordinated strokes that brought us back to the boat landing in short order.
"You boys find any action?" the boat rental guy asked, as we returned our stuff.
"Well, yeah, I guess," Jason answered for both of us. "But we didn't catch any fish."
Chapter 18 The Party's Over
(Arkansas Vacation 11)
This chapter includes descriptions of the dark side of Peckertown. It's not pretty, but it does have a happy ending. The action takes place right after the chapter 16 called Oscar Night. I want to thank Cody, Justin, Arne and Dave for their help and contributions to this chapter.
The high lasted a week and a half. On April 5, 2000 reality struck Peckertown.
While writing about the last eleven months I've mentioned several unsavory episodes. The robberies that Yoshi and Kenny broke up upon arriving. Scott preventing that unnamed little kid from being dragged off. Even Justin's being beaten and robbed during his whoring days. Other boys have been cheated and robbed as well..
But what was discovered late that morning leaves everything else in the dust.
I was in the In-Boy Inn's office with the Inn's manager Kevin for our weekly meeting. We were drinking sodas and leaning back in our chairs as we reviewed staffing, bookings, etc. Even with the Jorgenson Inn open it was still fully booked most nights due to its downtown location.
"HELP! Somebody come quick!" Came a loud shriek followed by a couple more helps.
"Damn Dashby, wonder what shadow he's seen this time?" Kevin groused as he stood.
"New kid?" I said as I rose.
Kevin nodded as he walked out the door. He tilted his head till he heard the near hysterical voice again and turned left to the stairs. "Good kid, sad story I'll tell you later. But he's so damn jumpy."
At the first landing Kevin shouted, "where are you Dashby?"
"Room 306 Mr. Kevin, hurry."
"Shit," Kevin said and started taking the stairs two at a time.
"What?" I said as I managed to keep pace.
"Room had the 'Do Not Disturb' sign up since Sunday. No sign of the guy or his car. I told Dashby to go in and clean up the room. What the hell?" he said as we reached the top.
Room 306 overlooks the center court and there's a four foot [1.20 m] railing to prevent people from falling off. A naked boy with brown hair in a bowl cut was leaning against the fence, a quivering finger pointing into the room.
"Holy mother of God," Kevin said from inside the room.
The tone told me what was in the room was a lot worse than Dashby's condition and I rushed in. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust but they did right before I ran into Kevin.
The mattress had been removed and the fabric removed from the box spring. Tied spreadeagled was a very young boy, maybe twelve. He was tied at his neck, wrists, ankles and waist with wire to the metal springs.
"He's a baby," Kevin whispered.
I turned and saw the twenty-seven-year-old was in as bad shape as the boy outside.
"Kevin, go next door and call the police. Tell them we need an ambulance, a crime scene team and a doctor here now. Make sure Waters gets his butt up here fast."
"Is he alive?"
"I don't know, now move it Kevin. If he is he needs you to make that call." That got him moving and I heard him fumbling his keys next door.
I took a long deep breath and held it for as long as I could before exhaling and walking the last few feet. In the back of my mind I was praying that I'd hear sirens coming and a medic at the door in those few seconds.
No such luck.
Standing next to the bed I scanned his pale, emaciated body. When I reached his crotch I had to look away. Not only had the bastard left this youngster tied and helpless but he had done a crude circumcision, inserted a prince's wand and placed an Elastrator around his balls.
If you're not familiar with an Elastrator it is a cock strap time ten thousand. They are illegal in Peckertown. Only a trained slave master should even think about putting one on anybody. Put on improperly it will castrate the victim, hell it was invented to castrate bulls. Left on too long the results can be the same, or worse. The maximum time is one hour, for some males only minutes. The boy's were distended and an almost black purple. His cock was a reddish color and his bladder was severely distended as well.
"You poor boy," I whispered as I put two fingers on his carotid artery. I had to move my hand a bit and hold my breath but finally I felt a faint pulse in his neck. I knew I couldn't touch his crotch but I pulled out my pocket knife and went to work on the wire around his throat. The animal had wrapped the wire around the boy's throat twice before tying both ends to the springs. First one end came lose and then the other. I gently raised his head with my right hand and slowly unwrapped the wire. When it came loose I heard a small but sharp intake of air
I had just started working on his left wrist when I heard heavy footsteps coming through the door. I turned my head and saw Sheriff Whitey Waters enter followed by a youngster carrying a first aid box.
"Let me take a look before you go any further Marc?" the head county lawman said.
I stayed where I was. "This is how we found him except he had the same kind of wire wrapped twice around his neck and tied to the springs. I took that off after I discovered a pulse."
"Billy Jeff, see if you can find that pulse and do some of those readings they taught you in Little Rock."
"Billy Jeff?" I said.
"Yeah, I couldn't keep them in jail so I put him and Albert to work."
"Cool, can I get back to untying him?"
"You take that side, I'll do the other. Where is that damn ambulance?"
"Accident on the highway got both local ones busy. Got one coming over from Hillary, should be here soon," Billy Jeff said as he shined a light into the boy's pupils."
"Anything?" I asked as I finished freeing the wrist.
"He's alive and breathing regular but much too slow. Boss, I'd be too scared to try anything without talking to a doc," Billy Jeff said.
Waters and I finished freeing his limbs and stood. In the silence I heard the approaching sirens and let out breath I didn't know I was holding. We stayed there till the ambulance crew shooed us out. Waters took a long look through the room as we waited, knowing the crime scene was going to be disturbed big time.
When we left the room I saw Kevin standing in the next doorway. "You OK?"
He nodded, "Dashby's in here, I got him to lie down."
"Who's Dashby?" the Sheriff said.
"New maid, found the boy. Is he alive?" Kevin said.
"Yes," I said.
"Thank you God," Dashby screamed from inside.
Kevin poked his head in the door. "Dashby, you up to talking to the Sheriff and Mr. Fogel? "I'll be with you."
"Yes sir, anything to help Chris," Dashby said and we entered the room. Waters and I grabbed the chairs and Kevin sat on the bed next to the boy. Dashby was sitting with a blanket pulled up to his chest but his pale white arms testified to him being a recent arrival.
"Dash, the man by the door is Mr. Fogel, he's the general manager for all the Jorgenson properties and he's a good man. The man with the badge is Sheriff Waters and I've known and trusted him almost all my life and you can too. And talk slowly, they're not used to that thick Boston accent of yours."
He nodded, "Mr. Kevin. Can I have something to drink?"
I got up and went to the small ice box in the room and handed the boy a cola, took a diet for myself and a root beer for Waters. Kevin shook anything off.
"Now son, tell us what you know, take your time," Waters said.
The boy took another drink and carefully put the can on the night table. "I was cleaning the pool area when the man checked in early Sunday afternoon."
"How do you know he was just checking in?" Waters said.
"I saw him carry three, no four suitcases up to the room. Considering most of the guests have one I noticed and remembered it."
"Good, continue."
Dashby smiled at the policeman's complement. "A little later he came down to the pool in a swimsuit, one of those big baggy ones which was good because he didn't have the body for a thong. He took a quick swim and then sat on one of the deck chairs. Like I'm supposed to I brought him two towels and asked him if he wanted anything from the snack bar. He asked for a rum and coke and when I returned he signed for it and added a dollar for a tip. Naturally I thanked him and asked if there was anything else he needed."
Dashby stopped and took a long drink and I watched him closely. Kevin had called his story a bad one and while very few of the boys have good stories to explain why they had to leave home and come here just the usual homophobic parents does not count as a bad story.
When he finished the drink he leaned back against the headboard and sighed.
"He said his name was Charlie and he'd come to Peckertown looking for a boy named Scott and did I know any. The only one I knew was Chris, his full name is Christopher Robin Scott. While I couldn't think this guy with his thick Southern accent could have known Chris who comes from outside of New York City I told him yes and said that if he wanted I could find him after work and bring him over."
"Let's go back for a second. Now you've been here a little bit son?" Waters said.
"Came late February sir."
"So you've met people like Kevin and myself who are from around this part of the state?"
"Yes," Dashby nodded.
"This guy sound anything like us?"
"No, sort of like that guy running for president."
"Which one?" I said.
"Not the vice president, the other guy," Dashby said with a shrug.
"Bush?"
"Yeah, but thicker and not as educated."
"I guess you found him," Waters said.
"Yeah, I knew where he usually cruised. Chris only arrived a week or so ago, day after the party. He was interested so I brought him back and we knocked on the door. The guy came to the door and looked at the boy. He asked Chris if his name was really Scott and he told the man that it really was his last name.
"Guy shrugged and said he wasn't the one he was looking for but maybe he'd work out even better. They settled on the price for the whole night, the guy gave me twenty and I went home. Didn't even think about it again till I saw him," Dashby said and covered his eyes. Kevin pulled him close and let him cry.
Waters pointed to the door and I followed him. We both took deep breaths of the lunch time air. I saw a number of guests, some with boys, eating lunch and relaxing around the pool. I waited by the railing while Waters went into 306 and talked with the crime scene team.
"Anything?" I asked when he emerged.
He shrugged, "too early yet. Lot's of fingerprints along with blood and semen samples. We should be able to get some kind of match when we get the guy. I've been watching you Marc, there's an idea back in your head someplace.
I nodded and pulled my cell phone out and called the office. Margaret answered on the second ring.
"Jorgenson Enterprises, can I help you?"
"Margaret, it's Marc."
"Where are you? I've got a ton of messages for you."
"Later, listen pull both of Scott Davis' files and get it up to the inn five minutes ago. I'm in room," I paused and glanced, "room 308. If nobody's there you trust go over to the restaurant and send someone. When you're finished with that get Scott's schedule and have Zeus track him down, tell him he's needed and then call me."
"What's?"
"Not now Marge, just do it," I said and cut the connection.
"Talk," Waters said.
"You know Scott's past," I said.
"Yeah, but there have to be other Scotts here."
"Yes, but his Uncle Charlie's the one who dragged him to that shrink."
"Picture in those files?"
"From press clippings and other sources. I didn't think he'd be out of jail already but it's Texas and abusing a fag isn't a big deal there."
"I hope you're right about this," Waters said.
"Why? Scott will hold himself responsible for Chris' injuries."
Whitey nodded slightly. "Going to feel that either way. Thing is if Uncle Charlie did this for revenge then he's going to stick close till he knows Scott knows he's to blame."
I turned away from one of my best friends and covered my eyes. He was right, but this might push Scott over the edge mentally. I'd talked to his boyfriend Frank yesterday and while he was better since switching to his new job Frank was still worried about how much he was drinking.
"Marc? Where are you?" I looked over the railing and saw Benjy, the youngest of the Jorgenson boys and his boyfriend Roger. Naturally both of them were in leathers but Roger also had his dog collar on. For some reason I noticed Benjy had a new flattop haircut.
"Benjy, up here. What are you doing here?"
"Got the files from Margaret," he said as they headed toward the nearest steps.
I tossed things over in my mind as he came up the steps.
"Here you go Marc. What's going on?" Benjy said as he handed me a thick manilla envelope.
"Hold on a second," I said as I started going through the files. My phone rang and I handed it to Benjy. I heard him tell Zeus to hold a second.
"Does he have Scott?"
"Yes, where do you want him?"
"The office, and pick Frank up on the way. No questions, no answers."
I continued flipping through the folder and finally found the pictures I wanted.
"Not great, but they'll do," Waters said.
"Can I see?" Benjy asked.
I nodded and Waters passed them over. "Recognize him?"
"Came to the late show a couple of days ago. Asking for a whore named Scott, oh shit."
"Continue son," Waters said.
"There's one slave goes by that name so Jimbo went and got him. Wasn't the 'right one' but took him anyway. Ten minutes later Scott pushed the panic button and it took four guys to throw the bum out. Boy said he had to fight the guy to get to the buzzer. We've got to come up with something else Marc."
"We'll talk about, I promise. Now are you sure it's him?"
"Yeah, Roger, you remember this guy?"
"Yes sir, that's the one."
"I've still got to show them to Dashby, could be coincidence?" Waters said.
"I'm going to take Benjy and Roger into the other room. Maybe they can help the medics."
Waters nodded and turned.
"Benjy, Roger, the man in the picture is Scott Davis' Uncle Charlie."
"The one who sent him to that raping shrink?" Benjy said.
I nodded. "He got here Sunday, got a newbie name of Christopher Scott and did a number on him. The medics are in with him now and I want you to go in and offer them your professional advice."
"Don't got any medical training," Benjy said.
"Love, Marc means as the S&M master of Peckertown," Roger said.
Benjy turned and we followed him into the room. Three medics were huddled around the bed. They had turned the lights on but I wasn't sure if being able to see was a blessing or curse.
"What's the situation?" Benjy snapped.
The medics turned and one seemed pissed but the oldest one put his arm on the first ones shoulder. "Benjy?"
"Yes, Mr. Fogel says you might need my advice."
"Twelve-year-old white male. Was tied to the bedspring coils since Sunday evening. Dehydrated and a bunch of other things we can take care of. Shit, just come look."
"Since Sunday?" Benjy whispered a minute later.
"As far as we know. Could be more recent," the senior medic said.
"Do you have a doctor on the radio?"
"Yes, Dr. Schwartz on speaker," the third medic said. I let out a sigh of relief. Dr. Schwartz is the primary doctor-on-call for all slave injuries.
"Doc, it's Benjy. This is a mess."
"So I gather. What's your impression?"
"Circumcision is a mess but you can fix that. I'm going to examine the prince's wand."
A prince's wand is a thin steel rod that is inserted in a man's piss slit. It will keep him erect but also prevent urination and ejaculation. Like any other foreign object if it's left inside a human body too long it can lead to injury and infection.
"Doc you there?"
"Go ahead Benjy."
"Some signs of inflamation as I'm sure the medics told you. I can get it out now if you want me to. It's your call."
"Let's wait a second, what about the Elastrator?"
Benjy sat on the bed and slowly, gently handled Chris' genitals. He had Roger roll the skin back so he could see the band clearly. I heard him cursing under his breath the whole time.
"How soon we ready to move him?" he asked.
"Done as much as we can here," the oldest one said.
"Doc, let's leave him the way he is to we get there. I don't want to touch that band here. His balls are dead already and I'm afraid that they may burst when the band's removed. If it's all right with you I'll come along and we can look at him together. "
"Let's move it boys, get them here fast. And Benjy, introduce yourself to my nephew Tommy, he's the one who almost jumped down your throat and he's studying to be a doctor."
Benjy looked at the young man and smiled. "Need a hand?"
I returned to room 308 after I saw the ambulance off. Roger was standing outside looking like a lost dog. I had this temptation to say heel. "You drove here?" Is what I did say.
"Yes Sir."
"Know how to get to the hospital?"
"Yes." There was a glint in his eyes.
"So get going and wait for your boyfriend." I took my wallet out and handed him two twenties. "In case you need gas, food or something."
"Thank you Sir. Sir, will that boy live?"
"Yes, thank the Lord, but he'll never be the same."
"How could, how could?" Roger stopped talking and I took him into my arms and let him cry for a few minutes.
After he left I grabbed Waters and we headed over to the offices of Jorgenson Enterprises. We could hear Scott ranting as soon as we entered the front door and I thought Margaret was going to kiss my feet. She pointed toward the conference room instead.
I opened the door and walked in with Sheriff Waters right behind me. Zeus, Frank and Scott all turned.
"What the flying fucking hell is going on? What did I do now?" Scott yelled.
"Man's upset and has a right to be Marc," Zeus said.
"I know," I said and walked over to Scott.
"So?" he snapped.
"I want you to listen Scott and remember, you have done nothing wrong. Nothing that's happened is your fault."
"Oh shit," Zeus whispered.
Anger was replaced by fear in Scott's eyes and he seemed to lose five years in five seconds. I pointed to the chair next to his boyfriend and took the next one myself.
I told them what had happened to Christopher Scott and to the slave Scott without using their names.
"That's horrible, but I don't understand what this has to do with me unless you want me to go undercover?"
"The man first asked for a whore named Scott and then a slave named Scott."
"So I'd be perfect," Scott said.
"Too perfect, the man's name is Charles Davis."
"No!"
I took the pictures out of the folder and put them on the table between us. "He's been identified at both places as the man responsible."
"He asked for me and when another boy turned up he used them to get at me," his voice started to rise, he shook off Frank's hand. "He castrates and almost kills a twelve-year-old baby and you tell me it's not my fault. Then whose fault is it? If I hadn't come here they'd be fine."
"And you'd be dead," Frank said. "You didn't hurt those boys that fucking bastard did and we have to help catch him before he hurts anybody else."
"Son, he did it to hurt you. If you let him get to you he wins," Zeus said.
"We will need your help Scott. Not right away but we'll need it," Waters said.
Scott wiped his eyes and looked at the sheriff. "Is he still in town?"
"Don't know but I think so. See if he's doing this to get at you then he'll stay around till he knows Chris was found and see if you surface."
"Can I kill him?" Scott said.
"No, I'd just have to arrest you. But men in jail don't like men who hurt kids like that. Not even in this state.
"Then what do I do?"
"You and Frank move in with Zeus and stay there until I call for you."
"But
3;"
"No buts or I throw your hide into a cell. As soon as I get back to the office I'll make copies and get them distributed around town and the surrounding area. Marc, I want you and your crew spreading the word about the two Scotts. If there are any more missing."
"Don't say that," Scott gasped.
"Get word to me. Any Scott's out there who want protection tell them to go someplace safe."
"I'll set something up with Kenny and Sergei," I said.
When everybody else had left I told Margaret to get Daniel, Aaron and Elija and his wife Francis over so I could review everything with them. My partner was the first one to arrive and when I saw him I took him into my arms, kissed him gently and started to cry.
When the meeting was over we went home and made slow, gentle love. I fell asleep in my arms and dreamt of Chris.
It was dark when the phone rang. Daniel picked it up and listened for a few minutes before saying thanks and hanging up. I tensed as he turned but he was smiling.
"He'll live, they're not sure how much permanent damage there'll be on top of the sterility but he'll live."
I cried and the teenaged boy who I called lover comforted me until the phone rang again.
"Should I let the machine pick it up?" he asked.
I shook my head, "It may be important."
"You're the only thing important to me right now," Daniel said, but picked the receiver up.
"One second Sheriff, let me put this on speaker," he punched a button and hung up the receiver.
"Repeat that please."
"You there Marc?"
"Yes Whitey, how you doing?"
"Better, I guess you got word from the hospital. Doc says Benjy was a big help."
"Thanks," Daniel said, the pride in his younger brother showing.
"Just to get to you up to date we've got flyers all over town with the pictures and wboy radio and television have been having regular news breaks about both Chris and the wanted poster. All the other stations and channels have picked it up too. If he's in the area he knows."
"Do you think he'll run?" I asked.
"If he's still here then I think not. I talked to Sheriff Nelsbek over in Texas. After he got sent to jail his wife divorced him and got everything, and I mean everything. Even got an order of protection that keeps him a mile from her and a mile from their house."
"Makes him even more dangerous," I said.
"Especially since they just found her and the kids murdered this morning. They're sending a Ranger in a private jet," Waters growled.
Silence filled both rooms as we considered the implications.
"Any Scotts missing?" Daniel asked.
"Not sure, we've got a dozen at Kenny's but can't tell if that's all or if we got the word out in time."
Through the speaker we heard a knock on the Sheriff's door and he told the person to come in.
"What is it Rodney?"
"Got a sighting at the Jorgenson Inn. Boy just came on at the desk and says he remembers the guy checking in yesterday with a boy."
"Hear that?" Waters shouted.
"We're on the way. Meet you in Zeus' office.
The phone went dead and as we pulled clothes on I hit the speed dial for Zeus' house.
"Talk," the big black man said.
"Zeus it's Marc. He may be at the hotel. One of the boys ID'd him when he came on duty. I want the three of you in your office in five minutes. Waters is meeting us there. Is Sargent Ryan on duty?"
"No, but I'll call and get his butt up there."
I hit the disconnect, tucked my shirt in and followed Daniel out the door.
We ended up in the conference room with the Sheriff at one end and me at the other. Benjy was there and the two brothers had hugged and talked in the corner until Rodney came in with the last person, the desk clerk who'd recognized the picture. Tad.
"You sure about this? Scott asked.
"Yeah, even thought he sounded a little like you. I mean his accent," Tad added seeing Scott's glare.
"Yeah, I know, sorry Tad, things got me uptight," Scott said.
"We all are," I said, "how you doing Dr. Benjy?"
"Better now that I'm back, thanks for sending Roger. From the time I walked into the hotel room to I walked out of the operating room I was fine. Once I walked out, man it hit me hard." He squeezed his boyfriend's hand.
"Dr. Schwartz called and said you did a good job," Daniel said.
"Everybody's done their jobs so far. Hopefully we've only got one more to do," Waters said.
"What room are they in?" Zeus asked.
"422, at the end of the right corridor," Tad said.
The elevator shaft runs up the center of the building and there are two corridors to running off it.
"Anybody in the adjoining or opposite rooms?" Waters said.
"I checked Sir, the whole wing's booked," Tad said.
I glanced around the table and saw Scott had his head back and eyes closed. He was pursing his lips back and forth.
"Got an idea Scott?" I said.
"Sargent, did you bring the floor plans and building drawings?" Scott said in reply.
"Yes, which one do you want first?"
"Building cutaway. We should be able to hook it up to the chalkboard. Tad, where's Worm?"
"Room service phone, you want me to get him?"
Scott shook his head as he and his successor as head of hotel security started putting the blueprint up. Scott pointed some things out to Sargent, and that is his given name, and they whispered back and forth for several minutes.
Scott turned to Sheriff Waters, "May I?"
"I'm not saying I'm going to say yes but let's hear your idea."
"We may have caught a break here. As you can see on the blueprint one of the heating ducts for that side of the building runs between four and five and there are ceiling vents in each of the rooms. There's an access hatch here," he pointed to a spot on the fifth floor, "at this point I could get in but it's narrowed considerably by the time it reaches the outside vent. What I suggest is that we ask Worm if he'd crawl down and take a look through the vent and tell us what's going on."
Waters got up and walked around to the print. Scott showed him the vent and route. Answered some questions and got a nod in response.
"Who's this Worm?" Waters asked.
"Smallest boy here. From Little Rock actually. His parents dropped him off on his tenth birthday with his birth certificate and notarized statements from both authorizing him to whore as much as he wanted. He didn't want to, but that was right after we opened so we put him to work in the back room. He's barely four feet [1.20 m] tall and if he weighs sixty pounds [27 kg] I'd be surprised. He's your man if he'll do it," Zeus said.
"What about me? I'm not that much bigger than he is," Tad said.
"Sorry Tad, his nickname's Worm not just because of his size but because he can move silently along like one," Scott said.
"Tad can you get Worm and bring him to Zeus' office? Scott, Sargent and I will talk to him there," Waters said, got up and stretched.
"Yes Sir," Tad said and moved.
I still love looking at that hot butt of his when he moves. My shin got kicked and I looked at Daniel who was smirking at me.
"Zeus, can you make sure the nearest rooms are empty or get them empty. I don't know what kind of fight this guy'll put up when we move in," Waters said.
Waters never failed to amaze me when I watched him in action. In lots of ways he looked and sounded like a stereotypical red neck Southern sheriff but he sure wasn't a red neck and had easily made the transition from a sleepy little county to a bustling tourist area. Yes there were guys who tried robbing the boys and/or mistreating them, but very few got away with it.
"I'll take care of it myself. Too much of the Marine in me to sit this one out," Zeus said. "Besides, nothing like a big black man asking people to move their butts to get it done." He laughed and headed out the door.
"I'm glad he said it," Waters mumbled and followed him out the door.
OK, maybe a little red neck. But even a northerner like me knew Zeus was right.
Daniel picked up the phone and dialed. When the call was answered he asked for Kenney and hit the speaker-phone.
"Hi, it's Sergei, Kenney busy Lion. What is up?" His Russian accent was bearable when he spoke slowly.
"How many boys you have there now?"
"At least twenty-five. Not all named Scott, some just scared. But Yoshi and Jeff brought some of their top students along with ours and they are guarding outside. Everything fine."
"Need anything?" Daniel said.
"Food and drink, no liquor."
"I'll take care of it. We may have a lead but figure on everybody staying at least overnight."
"Thank you. I will tell Kenney and Yoshi," Sergei said.
"Good luck, I'll talk to you later," Daniel said, hung up the phone and looked at me.
"Call your father and have them deliver. Anything coming out of here or the Inn might look suspicious if Uncle Charles is on the loose."
Daniel nodded and made the call. I just wondered what budget line I would put this under.
Scott walked back in and sat next to his boyfriend, Frank. "Mr. Fogel," Scott said.
"Who?," I said.
He smiled, and it looked good. "Marc, I know this isn't my fault but I do feel some responsibility, at least to his victims. I got the money from my parent's estate finally. It's not a fortune like the twins but I want to pay the medical bills for Chris and whoever's upstairs."
"It could add up to a lot of money."
"We've both got good jobs, not a big clothes budget, and I really want to do this."
"OK, we'll settle it up when everything's done. You can start by sending Chris a stuffed animal in the morning."
"A Pooh Bear, he always made me feel good," Frank said.
"Done," Scott said and gave his boyfriend a kiss.
Waters, Sargent and a boy who was probably smaller than Zeus claimed walked back in followed by Zeus.
"Wing's empty and two bellhops stationed to make sure it stays that way."
"They're not to interfere with the suspect," Waters said.
"They know. Instructions are to ignore him, let him pass and once he's out of sight to call me here. They're smart boys Sir."
Waters nodded. "Marc, Daniel, Benjy," Waters said as he pointed us out. "This is Worm. I asked him his real name and he said only the tax man knows that."
I wanted to ask this tyke why his parents had abandoned him here but it wasn't the time or place. He seemed to have accepted his new life. His brown hair was cut in a short, bowl cut like Dashby's, and he was in good shape for someone that small and light. He was wearing a Jorgenson Inn tank top that reached his knees and was barefoot.
"Worm, my name is Daniel Jorgenson and my family owns this hotel. I know this isn't part of your usual job but you understand how important this is."
"Yes Sir," Worm said.
"Call me Daniel please. I'm not that much older than you."
Worm smiled and there was a glint in his eyes. "I'm willing to help. I heard what happened to that boy. Uncalled for, even if he was a slave it was uncalled for. No offense Benjy."
"None taken, you're right. I'd love to get my hands on this guy, and my chains, whips, and all my other toys," Benjy said with a smile, but I knew he meant every threat.
Waters walked to the blueprint. "OK, this is how it'll work. Scott, get Tad then you, Tad and Benjy take Worm up to that opening and get it open. Worm, look here. You'll crawl through the vent to the end. Tad will be about ten feet [3 meter] behind you in case you run into a problem. There are two vents into the end room. Go there and take good looks around. This is the room next to it. I'll be there with Marc and one of my men. If Mr. Davis is in the room crawl all the way out. We'll see you and meet you back here. If the room is empty or all you see is a boy stop at one of the vents for this room, rap three times and keep going. Any questions?"
"Is there a vent in the bathroom?"
"Yes, but that's a narrow path with a tight turn. If you can do it fine, but don't risk getting stuck or anything."
"Let's do it," Worm said.
There was a knock on the door and Roger walked in with a bag. "Smallest we got Master," he said as he handed it to Benjy.
Benjy pulled out a footed rubber jumpsuit, looked at it and tossed it to Worm. "Put this on, it may be hot but it'll stop you from being nicked or anything and calling out."
"Do I have to?"
"Please Worm," Scott said and we watched as the boy stripped and got the suit on with a bit of help from Benjy and Roger." I saw Daniel staring at his uncut cock, it had an extra-long foreskin that might give a second source for his nickname. I kicked Daniel in the shins.
"Man, can you imagine him at the club dressed like that," Roger said.
"No," Worm snapped.
"No sweat guy, take it as a compliment."
"Let's do it now before I sweat to death."
We put a long t-shirt on over him so nobody could see the suit and took over an elevator. Rodney, Waters and I got off at the fourth and the others headed up. We'd left Zeus in the lobby in case Davis got past us. And I do believe the ex-Marine wanted us to fail.
We didn't try to be quiet going into the room but we just sat on the beds looking at the vents once we were inside.
About ten minutes later Rodney raised a hand and then I heard it too. Any noise would have covered the sound but there was a slight rumble from the vent and then I spotted the tiny boy slither past.
Time stopped, I know that's not possible, but not any less possible than the feeling that time was flying by and that it was sixty minutes since he'd passed us and not sixty seconds. I watched my clock and two minutes after he passed he was back, rapped three times and kept going.
"Marc Fogel, as general manager of Jorgenson Enterprises do we have your permission to enter room 422 of the Jorgenson Inn?" Waters said.
"Be my guest, but if you don't mind could you use the master key instead of your feet?"
"Stay here till I call for you. I don't want to explain to Daniel how you got hurt."
Waters handed Rodney the key and they walked out. From just inside the door I heard the key turn in the lock.
"Police," Waters shouted and I heard the door bang open. I stayed put, I hated it but I was unarmed and I didn't want to get in the way. I turned so I was facing away in case I had to tackle somebody though.
"Marc," Waters called and I ran in.
Rodney was on his radio calling for the paramedic team to come up as I approached. It wasn't as bad as the first one. For one the boy was conscious, panicked, in bad pain but conscious. He was naked, tied spreadeagled to the bed and there were knife cuts all over his body. Nothing life threatening, but some would require stitches.
Then there was the Elastrator. I examined it and had to bite back my disgust. The only comfort were that his balls weren't as distended or dark as Chris' had been.
"Is your name Scott?" I said.
He nodded.
"How long has this band been on your cock?"
"Not that long, he only put it on before he left," he croaked.
"Whitey, I've got to get it off now," I said.
"Let me."
I turned toward the voice and saw Tommy, the young paramedic who had challenged Benjy that morning.
"Hi, glad to see you again. He's all yours, says it's only been on a little while. Don't know how long that really is, but."
Tommy nodded grimly, "Good." He knelt and gently touched the boy's cock and balls with his right hand as he took the scalpel in his left. "Son, can you hear me?"
The boy nodded.
"Now when I cut this thing off the blood's going to rush back in and that'll hurt almost as much as it does now. If you feel like fainting then just do it, we'll be here to help with that too."
Scott nodded and the paramedic waited till we'd finished untying him from the bed and his limbs were on the mattress. The scalpel gently cut through the fucking band. I heard the cut and then the scream. The boy's hands reflexively went to his crotch and he curled into the fetal position. He kept on screaming, didn't seem to be stop even when he fainted.
The paramedics checked his vitals as I watched his balls slowly return to their normal color. Didn't reach it but a lot better. Dr. Schwartz had mentioned that he was working with eunuchs and maybe he'd be able to help this victim.
"He's ready to be moved," the paramedic said.
"Fine. Rodney stay with him and have the crime team ready when you go. Come on Marc," Waters said.
Waters radio squawked while we were in the elevator but he couldn't get through until we were in the lobby.
"Waters."
"Davis sighted at the Big Lick. Two reports, three cars on the way blind."
"Have them set up a perimeter, no action unless he tries to leave. Get somebody in plainclothes inside to confirm. Waters out."
Benjy and Roger stayed behind to help Worm out of his suit and help him with what he'd seen. The rest of us poured out of the hotel and into waiting cars and sped off toward downtown Peckertown. We had to park a couple of blocks away and as we approached some police officers across from the ice cream parlor Scott pointed and screamed. "There he goes."
Before we could react Scott was running after him and we all took chase. Even in the poor light it was clear Scott had identified his uncle correctly.
Scott followed his Uncle Charles down the darkened street and into an ally. Anger and hate burned hot deep inside him. He wanted to catch him and make him pay for what he'd done.
He saw Charles dive through a door, surprising the person at the door. Scott followed him in the place, quickly realizing it was the Big Lick, and the Olsen Triplets were on stage in the middle of their act. Grabbing a heavy sundae glass, Scott threw it at the running man, hitting him in the head and knocking him down. Charles crashed through a table and Scott, breathing hard jumped on top of him.
Charles Davis pulled a knife but Scott hit him on the side of the head with an ashtray and then on the wrist and the knife dropped. Scott picked it up and lay it on the man's throat.
"Scott, not this way. Please. Let him go. He's nothing anymore," Zeus said softly, coming up behind Scott.
"You barely know what he's done to me. What I've told you is just the tip of the iceberg, just the beginning of it all. It was more than just the acts themselves, it was the mental abuse he committed as well. Every time he'd start doing me, I'd beg, scream, plead, and cry for him to stop. He wouldn't, did you!" Scott screamed out his rage.
"Please nephew, mercy. Please?" the man on the floor pleaded.
"I asked you for mercy, and you didn't show it. Now you ask me for it? What makes you think you'll get it from me? Dad was your brother. You're right, I am your nephew. At least I was before you started hurting me. What makes you think playing on our family ties is going to save you? Won't work Uncle. How many of my younger cousins have you started with? None of them is thirteen yet. Say bye-bye Uncle Charlie," Scott snarled
"Scott, the moment you cut his throat you become him. He will have won, completely and totally. Not much of a victory," another voice said.
Scott glanced in the direction of the voice quickly. He saw a man walking towards them. He wore a Stetson, boots, jeans, and a faded blue shirt with a sport coat over that. Pinned to the left side of the jacket was a star.
"Remember me Scott? Tom Branford, Texas Rangers, thought we got along during your troubles. Tad at the Jorgenson Inn told me where to find you folks," he said, stopping next to Frank. "Hello, Charles. Kinda nice to see you in that spot for a change. Wish I had a camera for that."
"Get a good look," Scott said. "Be the last time anyone sees him like this."
"Let me save you the trouble of killing him Scott. See all Sheriff Waters has him on is two counts of attempted murder if I've heard everything right."
"That's true," Waters said.
The Ranger pulled a paper out of his coat pocket and waved it. "This is an arrest warrant. Mr. Charles Davis you are under arrest for the first degree murder of your wife and two children."
"You bastard?" Scott screamed and blood began to flow from his Uncles' throat."
Zeus grabbed the knife arm up, squeezed it until Scott screamed and dropped the knife. If the old saying if looks could kill was true then Zeus would have dropped on the spot.
Frank put his arms around Scott. "My love, let the law punish him. You've done your part."
"He killed my family, for all I know he killed my parents. I feel so alone."
"Aren't you and I family? Isn't everybody who's been with you today part of your new family? Damn it Scott I love you!"
Scott looked at the bleeding man, spat. "There's your mercy. Let me know when you're going to fry him so I can come pull the switch."
Scott jumped up and ran out the door before anybody could stop him. By the time Frank got there he was gone. He turned to us. "What do I do?"
"He'll be back. Go home and he'll come back to you," Daniel said.
"Come with me. I don't want to be alone."
Daniel gave me a kiss and they left. Ten minutes later Waters and Branford had a cuffed and bleeding Davis in the car and on the way to hell.
A few days later this is what Scott told me happened after he ran out:
He walked the streets for a long time, stopping at a liquor store, buying a bottle of cheap scotch and guzzling as he walked. Eventually he sat on a park bench, drank and cried for a long time, slowly getting drunk. He didn't recall passing out, but the nightmare scared him. It was Uncle Charles laughing at him.
"I'll still torture you through your dreams, no matter how much booze you drink to try and make me go away. I still win!" he cried triumphantly. Scott snapped to, his breathing hard and fast. He reached for the bottle of scotch, then stared at it as he raised it.
"No," he whispered, jumping to his feet.
"No!" he screamed, throwing the bottle as far from him as he could. He turned and stumbled out of the park. Not really knowing where he was going, he stumbled along the sidewalk. This was not what he had planned. This wasn't living. He had wanted to leave all that behind when he came here. It still stayed with him. Despite his work with Zeus and love of Frank his bitter hatred still controlled him.
He thought about finding the bottle or buying another one.
He bumped into a sign, nearly knocking it over. He focused in on it. It pointed into a building, a sign for an Alcoholics Anonymous. Something drew him inside the place. He followed signs pointing to a bare room. Scott saw teens and younger boys sitting there in a circle. They all looked up and saw Scott there. When the group leader saw Scott, his expression changed to genuine concern. He stood up and walked over.
"My name is Scott. I'm an alcoholic. I need help." He broke down and started to cry. The boys quickly surrounded him and hugged him.
He's been going to the meetings regularly and he found a new psychiatrist that seems to be helping. Frank's started to go to the AlAnon meetings to help cope with living with a recovering alcoholic and dealing with all those issues. I've got to give that kid a hell of a lot of credit for sticking with Scott.
***
A week after the events everything was returning to normal when Margaret showed a couple into my office.
"Hello, I'm Marc Fogel, general manager of Jorgenson Enterprises. How can I help you?"
"We're looking for our son and everybody seems to think you're the one to talk to. Most seem to recognize his name but we can't get anything out of them," the man said.
"Don't take offense, most of these boys are here because they couldn't live with their parents. Many don't trust or like parents. So what's your son's name and do you have a picture?"
He took a snapshot out of his pocket and handed it to me. "His name is Christopher Robin Scott, he's just turned twelve. Do you know him?"
I excused myself and ran for the bathroom. I didn't throw up but came close. I put cold water on my face, dried it and tried to compose myself.
"Sorry, but my stomach's been upset all day. Now why have you come to Peckertown looking for him?"
"I think you know where my son is," the man said.
"I may, I may not. Even if I do I may not choose to tell you. As I said many of these boys have good reason to hate their parents. Answer my question please."
"Mr. Fogel, excuse my husband, he's used to getting his way automatically. We've come here because we love our son and want him to come home with us."
"Why did he leave home?"
Mrs. Scott pulled a note from her purse. "Here read this."
"Mom, Dad;
I know you'll find this when you return from this business trip. I left shortly after you did, but instead of London I'm off to Peckertown, AR.
Why? Because I'm gay and I know that won't work here. I cannot lie and hide, because you have told me not to. So I'm making it easier on all of us.
Love,
Chris.
"Is he right?" I asked after reading it twice.
"I'm afraid he's right. We live in a rather conservative, upper class area, Catholic, and the last person who came out was beaten, severely," Mr. Scott said.
"But we've put the house up for sale and moving someplace nearby that's a lot more tolerant. Signing him up to go Longston Academy which has a gay student organization. Please Mr. Fogel, do you know anything about our son?" Mrs. Scott pleaded.
I told them. Everything. Including the fact that their son was a eunuch and would remain that way.
"Do you still want to take him home with you?"
"Yes," Mr. Scott said. This doesn't really change anything. In fact this whole episode may bring us closer together."
I looked at Mrs. Scott. "He's my baby, I want him home with me. We'll do whatever it takes to give him his life back." She buried her face in her husbands shoulder and started to cry. At first he was embarrassed but then his tears flowed as well. I left them and called Dr. Schwartz.
I drove them over to Pecker Memorial Hospital and directed them to Dr. Schwartz's office. I stayed with them while he explained in detail the physical damage done to their son and the known long term consequences.
"Thank you doctor, I guess if my son's gay I guess I wasn't going to have grandchildren anyway," Mr. Scott said. "But as long as he adjusts to his limitations he can have as much of a sex life as he wants."
"Yes, unfortunately as of now there is no way to restore his sex organs to the point that hormone replacement therapy will work sufficiently for him to achieve ejaculation. If he is fortunate he may experience some orgasmic reactions but they will always be those of a prepubescent boy."
"The big question though is how will he come out of this emotionally?" Mr. Scott said.
"I'm not a psychiatrist and our staff psychiatrist has only made visual observations. What I can tell you now is that he is very depressed, possibly suicidal. Seeing you may be the best or worst thing at the moment but I'm willing to take the chance it's the best if you are. But both of you have to steel yourself not to show disgust at his physical condition or anything else," Dr. Schwartz finished and sat back in his chair.
Mrs. Scott rose. "I only have one more question before we go see our son. How soon can we take him home?"
"If he's willing?" Dr. Schwartz said.
"Of course, and if he's not willing now I'll stay here until I convince him we mean what we say."
"We'll stay," Mr. Scott said standing.
"Another few days, a week at most."
The four of us took the elevator up to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit and I saw Dashby sitting on a chair as we got off.
"Hi Dashby? Here again?"
"Yes Mr. Fogel, I mean Marc," he grinned as I started to wiggle a finger at him. "Are these more doctors for Chris? He's sleeping now and the nurses told me to wait here till he wakes up."
Mrs. Scott took the chair next to the boy. Except for the tank-top that covered his entire body he looked pretty much the way he had that morning. He had become our official representative at the hospital. He spent time with Chris and had revealed a talent for sketching that was phenomenal.
"Your name's Dashby?" She said and he nodded. His eye's closed halfway. "Are you Chris' friend?"
He nodded again and looked at me.
"It's OK," I said.
"I'm beginning to see what you meant," Mr. Scott whispered.
"We aren't doctors Dashby, we're Chris' parents. We just got back from our trip and found the note he left us. We didn't even know he was injured until Mr. Fogel told us."
"He's very hurt. Won't ever cum. He's a nice boy," Dashby said.
"Dash, quit it," I said.
He stuck his tongue out at me and smiled a smile that was slowly growing every day. Then he turned toward Mr. Scott.
"Why did you come? He must have had a reason to leave you."
"Because we love him son, and he really didn't give us a chance to solve the problem before he came here. Did your parents give you a reason Dashby?" Mr. Scott said.
Dash looked at me. I hadn't heard his story yet, and wanted to, but it wasn't my decision and I told him so.
"I sort of presented the reason to them," Dash said finally.
"What do you mean?" Mrs. Scott said.
"I'm fourteen and I guess I figured out I was gay when I was ten or eleven. Talked the girl game with my classmates but couldn't wait for gym and the chance to see all my classmates naked in the showers. Even though it wasn't my best sport, that's water polo, the 8th grade basketball coach recruited me for the team. It didn't take me long to find out that it was for more than my ability as a rebounder."
"You played power forward?" Mr. Scott said.
Dashby pulled the shirt up enough to show his legs.
"As I said I played water polo which really strengthens the leg muscles so I could jump over most other players and a basketball is a lot easier to catch. I was averaging 11.6 boards a game when everything fell apart. You see the reason I'd been recruited was because coach was gay and seen me cruising the other boys. He'd ask me to help him clean up after practice and then we'd shower together. I couldn't help but stare at his naked body. He had a light coating of curly black hair all over his body, a classic Italian face and a cock that would," he stopped and blushed. "Sorry Mrs. Scott."
"No problem, continue," she said and squeezed his hand.
He smiled shyly at her and then turned away. "After a couple of weeks he 'caught' me at it and seduced me."
"You mean raped you," Mr. Scott said.
"No, I don't! He constantly told me I didn't have to, that I could walk anytime I wanted. But I enjoyed it. I won't say he was my lover but he was my first sex partner and he taught me a lot.
"Sorry, it's just the idea of a teacher and a student isn't right. And being your coach on top of that he had so much power over you."
"I know the arguments Sir. Maybe they're right, maybe not. Don't know and doesn't matter anymore anyway. This happened in late January. As you can tell I'm from the Boston area and it was snowing bad outside after practice but he wanted to have sex anyway. I had my shirt off and uniform pants down around my knees and he was blowing me when my father walked in looking for me."
"Oh shit," Mr. Scott said.
"Dad went ballistic, thought my cock was going to get bit off when he tackled coach. They fought and coach finally knocked my father out. When he came around coach and I were dressed. Coach tried talking to my father but it wasn't any use. Dad started yelling at both of us, the names, the curses," Dashby stopped, sniffled and when Mrs. Scott took him into her arms bawled.
I took the opportunity to get everybody colas and checked to see that Chris was still sleeping. When I got back I found them sitting together with Dashby in the middle. I sighed and handed them their sodas.
"Thanks Mr. Fogel, we were waiting for you," Mr. Scott said.
"Make it Marc. Do you want to continue Dash? You don't have to."
"I want to. You see even though I'd known for four years I was gay I hadn't told anybody because I knew how my father felt about those 'flaming faggot queers' and where we all would end up sooner rather than later.
"Dad turned to me and said, 'so you're one of those faggot cock suckers.' I said, 'yes dad' and he said 'I'm not your father, no son of mine is queer. You have one hour to get anything you want out of my house and then I never want to see you're damned soul again.' He stood, spit on me and coach and walked out the door.
"Coach drove me home, I packed a duffle bag and my backpack with everything I wanted and walked out of the house."
"What about your mother?" Mrs. Scott said.
"What Dad says goes. I can't ever remember hearing her say no to him. By the time we got to coach's apartment there was a call from the superintendent accepting his resignation for personal reasons. He took me into his bedroom and we made love the rest of the night.
"The next morning he told me about here and as soon as he settled his affairs up there we drove to Peckertown."
"Where is he now?" I asked.
"Don't know. Despite having me around he seemed intent on having every whore in town. He went through all our money inside of two weeks. Then he sent me out to whore. One day I got home and there was a note on the door. It said there were men after him and he and his lover were moving to another part of the state. I walked in and the place was emptier than when we'd moved in. He didn't even leave me my clothes."
"Are you still a prostitute?" Mr. Scott said.
"No, I work at the In-Boy Inn as a maid and bellhop. That's how I got a look at the guy who did it."
"Are you happy here?" Mrs. Scott asked.
"Getting there. Me and two of the other maids share an apartment. I've got a couple of boyfriends. Enough money for what I want," he finished with a shrug.
We sipped our drinks in silence and Mr. Scott and Dash started going Red Socks vs Yankees and he seemed like a regular boy.
"Excuse me," came a voice from the door and we turned and saw a nurse. "Chris is awake now Dash if you want to go in."
"These are his parents, let them go in first."
I sat next to Dash on the bench and he stretched out with his head in my lap. "You still whoring?"
"A little, maids don't make that much and the tips aren't that great. But I know the rules and don't solicit guests."
"How would you like to stop being a maid and start being the house artist. You'd set up shop at the two hotels and draw guests or whomever they want for a fee and we'd split the charge."
"You serious Marc?"
"Damn serious. I've seen your work and it's good.
We talked while we waited. And waited.
After an hour Dr. Schwartz came back out alone and we stood.
"How's it going?" I asked as Dashby took my hand.
"Better than I hoped now. It was rough at the beginning, but Chris believes his parents are serious about taking him home and taking care of him. Help him put his body and life back together."
"Parents who really care about one of us that much. I guess there's hope for all of us," Dashby said.
"There's always hope my friend. You'll end up fine with someone you love."
"The Scott's said they'd stay at a local hotel and find a way there. They said to thank you."
"Fine, I'll arrange for their car to be brought over tomorrow. You want a ride home Dashby?"
"Yes, but I want to say good-bye first. If that's OK doctor."
"Go ahead."
"What about the other boy? Is Scott his real name?"
"Scott Peterson is his name. He's fifteen and been here almost since the beginning from what he's told me. Except for one thing he's physically fine."
"He's sterile," I said.
"Yes, but he's in a different class than Chris. While sterile because of that fucking Elastrator he's a perfect candidate for hormone replacement therapy."
"You mean he'll be able to have a normal sex life?"
"95% probable and at the least he'll grow and mature like a normal male. Something Chris may never be able to do."
"You going to take him in Doc?" I said.
"He's willing to give it a shot, at least until the shots have taken affect. Then he's got to understand he needs to take them weekly."
Both Chris and Scott were discharged from the hospital on April 19th. Chris and his parents moved into the Governor's Suite at the Jorgenson Inn for a couple of days before heading home. That Friday they insisted on a thank-you dinner for everyone involved.
Dashby presented them with a family portrait and they made him promise to stay in touch. When Mrs. Scott told him he could come visit whenever he wanted he started crying. I felt tears on my own cheeks at that.
I kept an eye on Scott Davis, he came in sober and never touched a drop of alcohol, though I saw him looking at the bottles an awful lot. Couldn't blame him really, without him saying it I knew he still felt somewhat responsible for his Uncle's rampage. After dessert he rose and everybody quieted.
"Mr. & Mrs. Scott, Chris. I want to thank you for inviting me and Frank tonight. Chris, I'm glad to see you're getting better, and especially that you're going home with your folks. I pray that everything works out for you and that one day you'll find a lover like Frank who'll stick with you despite everything you put him through."
"It's called love," Franks said.
Scott wiped a tear from his eyes, "Scott, I hope that Dr. Schwartz can do what he says."
He took a deep breath and continued, "Chris and Scott, on behalf of whatever's left of the Davis family I'd like to extend our deepest, sincerest apologies for what happened to you. If there's anything I can do now or later to help please call."
Chris struggled to stand, grabbed his crutches and walked over to Scott. "I forgive you. I wish he'd never done what he did to you, me or Scott but it's not your fault. But there is one thing you can do for me."
"Anything."
"I hear you're going to AA meetings?"
"Haven't touched a drop since that night," Scott said with a touch of pride.
"I want you to keep it up and succeed. You hear me?"
Slowly Scott wrapped his arms around the smaller boy and he started crying. Frank rose and took his boyfriend from the injured boy's arms.
Chris turned to Dashby. "Take me upstairs to bed."
"That's not necessary dear. I'll take you," his mother said and began to rise.
Chris turned toward his father and they rolled their eyes together. Mr. Scott put his hand on his wife's shoulder, seated her and whispered in her ear. Her face turned scarlet as understanding dawned.
Dashby and Chris walked out of the room together.
When I arrived at the office the next morning I found an hotel envelope waiting for me. I opened it and saw it was from Dashby. After reading it several times Daniel and I decided to share it with you.
Dear Marc;
I want to thank you, Mr. Kevin and the Jorgenson family for everything you've done for me.
I guess the only way I know how to explain things is to start with when Chris and I left the party. There was a wheelchair waiting and I made him sit in it.
"I used to help Pop Pop with his and I want you to save your energy for upstairs," I said when he balked.
"OK, OK," he grumbled.
Once upstairs we took two beers from the mini-bar, the 'Do Not Disturb' sign from the door and put it on the outside of his door before locking ourselves inside. Chris got himself from the chair to his bed and pulled me down next to him.
We kissed. It started off simple but I started feeling him come alive and I started to feel things I hadn't since coach deserted me.
When he finally broke he looked me in the eyes. "Undress me, make love to me Dash."
Every part of me wanted to do it. My cock was growing to its max without being touched. "Are you sure you're up to it?"
Chris took my hand and kissed it gently. He kept hold of it. "I want it. I need it. I need to know that I can please someone sexually. I want you to make love to me my friend."
I stripped and then slowly, carefully undressed him. I was a little, a lot scared when I lowered his boxers since I hadn't seen him since that day. They'd always been covered in the hospital.
Now I knew why. His beautiful was still there, but his balls and scrotum were gone.
"They had to amputate. They were so damaged they," Chris just waved his hand.
"Don't matter," I said and lay him on his back and we kissed again. This time I kept on kissing him as I moved from his lips to his throat, to his nipples and down his chest. Beneath me I felt his cock trying to rise. I finally kissed my way to a beautiful cut cock head.
"If this hurts too much," I said and a thrust fille my mouth before I finished. For the next who knows how long I sucked, licked and bathed his cock. Chris moaned, sighed, rubbed my head and enjoyed it but his cock remained soft.
"Enough," he finally said.
"I'm sorry," I said as I lay down next to him.
"Don't be. You gave me more pleasure than I hoped for."
"I loved doing it too. If you can't cum it don't bother me."
"Fuck me," he said.
I kissed him first.
"Make love to me Dash."
"That I'll do. Can you stay on your back so I can look at your gorgeous face?"
"And I want to watch the joy on yours."
I gently lifted his legs and started rimming his soft rosebud. I wanted to ask if that bastard had raped him but then I decided that not only didn't I want to know, but that it didn't matter. I pressed my tongue as far in as I could. After a while I took the lube from the night stand, lubed up my fuck finger and slowly worked it inside of him. Then two and I felt his prostate beneath my fingers and massaged it as well as spreading his chute open.
"Please, fuck me now," Chris said and I could feel shaking in his legs.
I lowered them and lubed my cock up.
"Ready?"
He nodded.
I put my cock head to his entrance and slowly pushed in. Chris might not have been down here long but he quickly let me in and my bush was brushing his ass almost at once. He gasped and I started to pull out but he shook his head. Then nodded. Part of me wanted to make this a long act of love but I felt he couldn't take that position too long so I set up a steady rhythm of medium paced long strokes.
I watched his face and all I saw was bliss and that got my cock even harder and moving faster inside of him.
"Fill me with your love," Chris said.
I couldn't answer. Between his face, his ass muscles working my cock and the rising sexual ecstasy I was feeling I knew it wouldn't be long. I nodded.
Somehow I lasted about another five minutes of pounding his tight, hot ass before I screamed and filled it to overflowing.
With the noises we were both making I was sure his Dad was going to kick down the door, but it didn't happen.
I pulled out, gently lowered his legs and again lay down next to him. When we'd caught our breaths we kissed for as long as we could.
"Dash."
"Yes Chris?"
"Come home with me."
I sat up and looked down at him. I was speechless and unsure how to react. "I don't know," was what I finally sputtered out.
"You want to grow up here?"
"It's not so bad. Friends, new job as an artist which if it goes well means I won't have to whore."
"Look, I know how lucky, how rare the opportunity I have. I want to share it with my best friend."
"What about your parents?"
"Right now their poor baby boy can get anything he wants from them."
"Chris, that's not how I want it."
"Sorry, it's true but we won't use that. I'm not asking you to come as my lover or sex partner but as my friend. We'd go to school together, you could take art lessons if you want. I'm willing to share my luck with you. Please come home with me."
I got out of bed and opened one beer and drank half of it down before I even offered Chris the other. He turned it down. I finished mine, looked at the second and opened it.
"If you're going to be like Scott."
"No," I said and put it on the dresser.
"How do you feel about my setting you up with him?"
"You thought you were doing me a favor. I can't hold that against you and I don't want you to."
"I don't come from a rich family like you. My father's a shipping supervisor."
"Mine's a divisional president for a conglomerate. So your life will be easier and he'll make sure I get the medical treatment I need. Dr. Schwartz gave him a name of a specialist in New York City. There's a chance I can go on the hormone treatments and grow normally. I'll never have an erection but at least I'll, I'll
3;" He stopped and turned his head away. "I won't beg you. You're my friend and I'm giving you, no, that's not right. I want you to come home with me and be my friend and whatever else develops."
I turned him over, nodded. We kissed.
So Marc, you're going to have to get yourself another artist. Give my love to everybody, especially Mr. Kevin.
Love, Dashby
Chapter 19 The Boy with the Tattoo
By Arne and Cody
You walk down the street and you see a cute boy with blond hair cut in a flat top. You guess his age to be about 13 or 14 years old. The boy is wearing hunter green gym shorts and white and blue Nike gym shoes, because it's so hot the boy's body is covered in a light coating of sweat. His nipples are a nice pink, and very perky. As you get closer the boy pulls down his shorts a bit, until his very large ball and HUGE uncut dick is showing. The boy has only a few small pubic hairs. The boy's dick is very long. It is still soft and you guess it to be about 7 or 8 inches long. But what really surprises you is the boy has a tattoo of a string of barbed wire that starts at the tip of his uncut foreskin and ends as a band and knot around the base of his scrotum.
You stop to look and the blond boy starts to rub his dick and asks if you like what you see.
You are speechless as you watch that tool get hard, and all you can do is nod your head. He pushes his shorts down to his knees, and now you can see all of the boy's equipment.
The boy's hairless balls are large and heavy. They hang so low, that you guess that they hang about a fully 1/3rd of the way down to the boys thighs. The boy's dick gets harder, and unlike many big dicked boys, this boy's cock gets super hard. It sticks straight out and is almost perfectly horizontal. The boy pulls back his extra foreskin so you can see that where you thought the tattoo ended was wrong. It goes inside the foreskin and wraps itself around the boys pink gland. You know the boy must have been in a ton of pain when he got the tattoo, but it's so erotic you think what the boy went through was worth the effort.
The boy tells you to go ahead, and you reach foreword and grab the now almost 12-inch [30 cm] teen meat. You start to slowly jack that hard cock, and then you lean foreword and run your tongue and trace the tattoo from the crown down around the scrotum and then back up to the head again.
The boy lets out a moan and tells you he can't last long since it had been so long since his last cum.
That reminds you that you are also in a hurry, so you take the boy's cockhead into your mouth and really start to work on it. You then use one hand to hold onto the boy's butt to help him to keep standing, and you use your other hand to rub and squeeze the boy's low hanging mega balls.
Then the boy starts panting and tells you he's going to blow. You feel the hard cock get just a bit harder, and you pull off and start to jack off the boy, so you can watch the boy shoot. The first blast is so strong you can feel the large gob traveling up through the cock and shoot out the boy's piss slit. It shoots so hard and strong, that it is almost going the speed of light as it makes its exit. If you had blinked you would have missed it You count the shots that come out. You count seven hard blasts, five spurts, and three dribbles before the boy gave his final little drip that was so small and weak; it just stays clinging to the cockhead.
The boy is so weak that you help him sit down onto the pavement. You thank the boy and hand him some money.
Then you look at your watch and take off running before you miss your bus home.
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