PZA Boy Stories

TNNB

The New Neighbor Boy

Chapters 11-14

Chapter Eleven

Mr. Poore lectures about eunuchs in class. Bob comes to fix Ben's AC unit. Mr. Poore finds something in Lois' bathroom that really makes him mad, and shows Ben his college yearbook. Scott comes over to go swimming and have a nap. Guess who's staying for dinner?

I had a lot to think about by Friday, but you know, every time I sat down to think about it, something else came up. If it wasn't the schedule, or guests, it was the doctor. Always something to keep my busy. Then that comment I made about Mom that made Mr. Poore be gone all day in his office. You know, I missed him working out with us, too. What did you think he did, anyway? He worked out too. It's not like he sat around wanking, as Canyon called it, while we exercised! You didn't get a body like his by just sitting around! But Scott was coming on Saturday, and we had a lot to do Friday, it turned out. I didn't know that when I woke up early that morning, laying awake and thinking long thoughts.

I woke up Friday morning early. I could have sworn someone was talking to me, but when I was all the way awake, I knew where I was – strapped into my bed, covered, blindfolded, and unable to hear anything but the music in my headphones. Mick was still singing. Boy, was that song right! I was IN a room painted black!

Then I knew it, when I was staring into the black of my blindfold – I wasn't scared! It was pitch dark, and I wasn't scared!

I was also hard, had to pee, but there wasn't anything I could do about that.

I couldn't move.

I didn't know what that bed or blanket was made of, but it was warm and soft. I just wanted to stay in it, really, it was so much nicer than mine at home. I knew Canyon was about four feet [1.20 m] away from me, but there was no way to know if he was awake or not. Even if I yelled, he'd never be able to hear me. I wondered what he was listening to in his headphones. He had a lot of records.

I laid there thinking.

I'd only known Canyon about a week, and there I was, living with him for two more while Mom was gone. In a week, I'd met a boy who was a nudist, didn't have any balls, seemed like he might be gay, didn't think he was even a boy, and had some really weird habits. I mean, he got enemas every day, but now, so did I. He worked out hard, and so did I. He ate like a horse, but wasn't fat, and that was new for me, too. And he was so affectionate. Maybe since he thought HE wasn't a boy, then it was OK for him to kiss boys? Then again, I was kissing him back. To say nothing of him jacking me off! The more I thought about it, the more I couldn't believe it.

But since he said he wasn't a boy anymore, that didn't mean I was gay.

But there I was, and wondering how and why.

I was strapped down, naked and helpless, with a plug up my butt. I had a locked collar around my neck, I'd been spanked like I'd never dreamed of, and I'd even got my hair cut and liked it! And I was being 'whipped' into shape, too. I wondered if that would go on when Mom got back? Canyon looked good, and I wanted to look like him.

And I also had two people telling me they loved me.

I had a little brother (well, 1 inch [2½ cm] shorter) and a dad (OK, father figure), food ready for me, and my only chores were doing what I was told: exercise, eat, help clean up, study, and stay clean.

Inside and out, Mr. Poore said.

It was some of the other stuff that bugged me, though. For one, I was pretty sure it was illegal for Mr. Poore to touch me like he did. I mean, him being a man, not my dad, and jacking me off? I never had a dad before – was THAT normal? Did dads do stuff like that? No, that had to be child molesting. I know nudism was legal, but still? I was pretty sure, too, that it wasn't legal to keep a boy's butt plugged so he didn't have accidents, or fill his guts up with hot soapy water every night to keep his insides clean. But wasn't that providing medical care? And at first, I'd thought Canyon might be a sleepwalker – but that didn't explain why I got strapped down every night, too. That, and the locked windows and the fence. It was like being in prison.

OK, I know it was all just too weird, and you're thinking, 'Why didn't you run and call the cops, dumbass?'

Well, if candy was suddenly illegal and you found yourself in the Chocolate Factory the next day, would you call the cops?

Besides, I hadn't seen a phone. Just the cordless that Mr. Poore used that one night.

I decided it that Friday morning when I woke up – I liked being there.

I was still scared, yeah. Some. But not so much as before, like when I'd told Scott to call the cops if I didn't call him. I still thought about leaving. Mr. Poore even said I could – but that he'd be very disappointed with me.

I didn't want that.

I felt good every time he told me he was proud of me.

It was crazy, yeah. I know.

But Mom was busy with work and her trips. THAT was why I was there – she was gone again. I figured they had to pay her a lot, but if they did, why was money a big problem? Or did she just SAY it was? She was never proud of me, even when I got that B- on my report card.

My stomach grumbled.

Hell, Mom couldn't even cook.

But if I left, what was there?

Aunt Mabel and her rat? Scott's place?

Old lady or asshole?

Or someone who loved me?

That got me to thinking about the temporary custody papers again, the ones me and mom signed. God, there was a lot of them. It was thick as a dictionary! At least if something happened, I knew the doctor could come and fix it without bugging Mom. That'd piss her off.

But she hadn't even called.

She never did before, on trips, so why did it bug me?

Thinking about those papers got me to thinking about the newspaper, too. I'd had it on me when I'd come over, but now it was gone. So were those clothes, I think. I knew Mr. Poore had trashed my old sneakers in favor of the new sandals. Had he thrown out my old clothes, too? I liked that shirt 3;

I doubted if Canyon ever had a favorite shirt.

For some reason, I laughed. I couldn't hear myself laugh, but I could feel it.

I could feel my dick, too, hard – and that plug in my butt. I found out that if I wiggled just right, and pushed in and out with my butt, I could move it a little. I was doing that, and it felt great! THAT got me to worrying if I really was gay or not.

Hell, didn't gay guys do it like that, like in the porno?

Shit, that HAD to be illegal! You can't show porn to kids!

You can't cut their balls off either, just because they ask you to, I thought. But Canyon had. And they did. No wonder he lied to me. He was right – I would have flipped and ran!

But I'd asked Mr. Poore last night about mine.

I'd asked the doctor, too.

We were supposed to have that talk today.

We were going to talk about me getting castrated.

Or not.

I can't believe I said that!

But I'd said it, too, or something like it: I liked how Canyon looked. I liked how he felt down there, when I touched him, just that little dick and nothing in the way under it. My hair was cut like his now, too, and I really liked that when I thought I'd hate it – when I'd been so scared to have it cut. But now I loved it! Mr. Poore even took my picture. He said he liked it, too. And he took lots of pictures of me.

Other than the cheap school packages, there weren't any pictures of me. Mom didn't have a camera.

And besides, no one could bag-tag Canyon! None of that pukey-sick, curled up in a ball, panting pain when you got your nuts smacked.

I hated that. Seemed like when me and my friends went out, I always came home with sore nuts.

Being a eunuch would have that for a big plus, in my book!

Scott always joked about that – like if my dick went missing or I got a rupture, I wouldn't notice it for a week. Why was it we were the same age, and HE had some hair, a dick twice the size of mine, and could shoot cum?

Hell, he'd shot ME!

"Asshole," I muttered, "Why I ever thought he was my friend. All he does is put me down."

But I kinda missed him.

I wondered how he'd react to Canyon. I know swimming naked didn't bother him. We did that all the time, remember? He was sure proud of his 'stuff', I can tell you. And proud of the fact that he was so much bigger than me. I figured seeing Canyon would freak him out. And if he laughed, well, Canyon would probably kick his ass! His 'arse'. I laughed again.

We'd see what the workout did to him!

If I could make it, and start getting used to it, I knew he would – but he was gonna suffer! Scott was like Mr. Big, you know – he'd never quit if I didn't, and I sure as hell wasn't quitting! I gained two pounds [1 kg] already, and Mr. Poore said it was all muscle!

I laughed again.

I wondered what Scott would have to say if he saw me naked, and without my balls?

Or my sac?

Or 3;

And that was another thing – I'd met Canyon, who didn't have balls. I'd met Jeffie, who was castrated and had the head of his dick cut off. I'd met Kim in the mall, but he'd been dressed up just like Canyon, so I couldn't tell. I wondered about Dr. Kent's boy, Mickey. They said he was 17, and on shots. He was going to be a man and go off to college. Was he missing something, too? He had to be, if he was on shots.

But THAT was what I'd said that made Mr. Poore mad – that I was too dumb for college. Well, I WAS. My best grade ever was a B-, remember? I had more D's than C's, and more than my share of F's.

School was just boring. I wasn't that into it, or figuring stuff out.

But you figured out that Tyrone was Ronnie T., didn't you?

I thought I did. It made sense. Really, it was WHY I'd come back. I wanted to solve the 'Canyon-Mystery.'

But Kim wouldn't talk about his new playmate, Tyrone. I didn't have any proof, and I sure as hell didn't wanna ask! There it was again – the idea that they were kidnappers! The idea Scott had laughed at. "What'cha smokin'?" He'd asked me.

I was thinking about Ronnie when I knew I'd quit moving. I guess I couldn't wiggle and think at the same time? See how smart I was?

One idea after another. Hell, I couldn't keep it all straight.

Now I was Canyon's playmate.

And what was this 'Tyrone', whoever he was, recovering from?

I bet they castrated him, I told myself, and then, There you go again!

I mean, if Mr. Poore was a sicko-criminal who grabbed little boys and cut their bits off, why would he be treating ME so good? He was helping watch our house, he was taking care of me, feeding me, housing me when I had no AC and nowhere else to go, and why? He didn't owe me or Mom anything.

Did he?

Didn't he say he went to school with Mom?

In England?

THAT was hard to believe.

Mom said her folks died when she was a Junior in college, and she did call it 'University,' like Mr. Poore did. So how'd she afford it, then? Did they die and leave her a pile of money? Then again, he said he'd show me the yearbook.

I was thinking about that missing kid, Ronnie, again, when the music stopped. That had to mean it was 8, time to get up.

Someone was touching me.

The headphones came off.

I could hear breathing.

Then the whiskers on my face.

"Good morning, my boy," Mr. Poore said. "You were up early, weren't you?"

"Yes, sir," I sighed, "I'm sorry. I was thinking."

He was kissing me again, touching me all over. It made me shiver.

"Benny, do you have any idea how much Canyon and I love you?"

"I, uhhh 3; ?"

"You're a dream come true, Benny," He told me. "Like I told you, I've never seen Canyon this happy. And the way he stood up for you the other day? It's a marvelous phase in his development!"

"Glad I could help, sir?" I sort of asked, and then was holding me tighter. "I wish we'd found you years sooner," he sighed. "BUT, we can't dawdle. Lots to do! SAY, why don't YOU wake your little brother up this morning?"

"M-me, sir?"

"Yes, you," he told me.

I went over to Canyon's bed. He wasn't moving at all, breathing slow, and I knew he was asleep. Just like Mr. Poore did, I smacked his butt.

He jerked, straining in his straps.

I took his headphones off and touched his ears.

Were those REAL diamonds?

Mr. Poore nodded at me. I don't know why I did it, but I reached down and touched the spot below his little dick where his balls should have been. He squirmed around and smiled.

"Tha's nice," he yawned, trying to stretch.

I kissed him, and he gave it back – and more.

I unstrapped him, but left him blindfolded. He was giggling.

"This isn't a dark day, is it, Father?" He asked.

Mr. Poore shook his head and grinned. He wanted to play. I didn't know what a 'dark day' was, but I thought it might be a day where Canyon had his blindfold on all day? How weird would that be?

Mr. Poore twirled his finger around in the air. I grabbed Canyon's shoulders and spun him around a few times. He took a step, and fell right onto his bed, giggling! He got back up, and I spun him again. He held out his hands, I jumped back, and I knew he was lost!

"Benny!" He grinned, "I know that's YOUR hands! Father put you up to this, didn't he?"

But he didn't reach for his blindfold. This must have been a game they played. I reached in and tickled his ribs, then jumped back. He tried to grab at me, and missed. Just like the blind-man's-bluff game we played in kindergarten. A few more times, since I was really needing to pee, and he caught me.

We kissed again, and then he grabbed my balls!

"Fair's fair," he told me.

Then Mr. Poore broke it up. He pulled Canyon's blindfold off, and we went and got ready for breakfast. Lots to do, after all, no time to play around.

I was disappointed when I found out that Scott wasn't coming until swim time. Lazy ass probably couldn't get up out of bed that early on a weekend!

I got a surprise with the workout. When the dishes were done, Mr. Poore went and got the sack of stuff from the sports store. He put weight cuffs on my ankles and wrists, and they were pretty heavy, for me. "5 pounds [2¼ kg] each," he told me. "You are now 20 pounds [9 kg] heavier, Benny. Have a good workout!" Then he smacked both our butts and sent us to our private little gym.

By the time 10 came and it was time for 'school', I was beat. I was red and panting and sweaty. 20 pounds [9 kg] is lot when you work out hard for a solid hour! He left the weights on me, though. Black padded cuffs. I knew not to touch them, other than to feel at them. They were tight and soft, but they felt sorta 3; nice. Not like wearing clothes, but it was something touching my skin.

I realized I'd got used to the collar and didn't even notice it anymore. You will if it gets wet and you stay out in the sun, though, I thought!

I got ½ a pain pill and ½ a muscle pill, ½ a caffeine pill so I wouldn't pass out, and I was all set.

When we sat down for class, Mr. Poore pulled down a movie screen. I saw the slide projector in the back of the room. 'Oh, no', I thought. 'Not a slideshow?'

He dimmed the lights and the first slide was a naked boy, standing there, arms out, legs spread.

AND IT WAS ME!

When did he take that picture?

I had long hair, no collar, and I swear, he never took that picture!

"Today we're going to study the male sexual organs, and their functions," Mr. Poore told us. "This is a picture of a pre-pubescent boy, with intact genitals."

THINK SO? Hell it was ME!

Now, I KNEW that was illegal!

The next slide was a close-up my stuff, limp, then with an hard-on.

I know I was blushing, but it was dark in there 3; Canyon didn't say a word.

"A boy who has had his testicles, or nuts, bollocks, stones, etc., removed or made useless is called a 'eunuch'," Mr. Poore lectured on, like I wasn't even there! The next slide was a close-up of my genitals again. But wait – what was that extra skin? That wasn't ME. "Before, and after, castration with radical circumcision, healed," Mr. Poore said.

The extra hoodie-skin was gone in the next slide, and so was the sac and balls.

"Note the removal of frenulum," he said, switching slides. Canyon fidgeted. I knew then it was him in the slides. Another close-up, and that little bit of skin right under the pee-slit was there, then gone. One was me, one was Canyon. I had a frenulum – he didn't.

I also had balls.

But our dicks looked the same in his after shot, before it started getting smaller.

I was hard again, so hard it hurt. I wanted to touch it, I wanted to get off, even if I couldn't shoot cum. But I kept my hands on the desk. I knew better.

Mr. Poore was talking about cleanliness, how he disagreed with circumcising babies, and that boys should be old enough to choose it for themselves and appreciate the pain and healing time. I clenched my legs. Cutting off that much of your dick looked like it would hurt, and be sore for weeks!

"With tens of thousands of nerve endings gone," Mr. Poore was saying, "Sensation is reduced very much. Some men and boys claim that they can then last longer during the sex act, since ejaculation is delayed."

WHEN DID HE TAKE MY PICTURES?!

"Or during masturbation," Mr. Poore was still going, and the next slide was me trying to jack off! This was just too damn weird! I didn't REMEMBER it! He could go to jail for that – it was kid-porn! "Note the reddening, since the boy is not using a lotion, and he is circumcised, but not fully." The next slide was shinier, there was lotion on my dick I saw, but it was Canyon's hand on my dick!

"Hmmm," Canyon said.

I almost fell out of my chair with the next one!

It was me, with that plastic trap on my dick!

"Note to self, if a boy is overindulgent, Whacky-Tacky Super glue will dissolve with prolonged urine contact!"

He and Canyon laughed.

"It's OK, Benny!" Canyon assured me, "I just didn't want you to hurt yourself! I tried to tell Father it wouldn't work."

"That he did," Mr. Poore agreed. "You don't remember any of this, do you, Benny?"

"N-no sir?"

Hell NO I didn't! What the fuck was he doing taking pictures of me naked?

Geeez, I looked soft, like an 8 year old. Did I really look like that?

The next few slides showed boys with larger stuff – hard-ons, lower balls, bigger dicks, bigger balls. It was like watching puberty in that speed-up-film or something. He had a whole tray of slides! Who the HELL was it?!

The slides looked kinda old, though. Blue-ish tint, and some spots.

"Those are of me," Mr. Poore put in, "when I was growing up. My balls never were that large, but they worked," He smiled, and I felt him clap me on the back; Canyon, too.

We got to see slides of him as a boy, too. All ages, like a history. He was a good looking boy, strong like Canyon, and he just got bigger and more muscled as the slides went by. His dad must have taken thousands of photos of him. I was jealous.

"Boys with functioning testicles, however, are prone to masturbate, or wank, jack off, etc.," he said, and the next slide got MY attention: It was Mr. Poore-the-boy, he'd just started to grow some pubic hair, not much, but there was something gold and shiny over his dick and balls! "To prevent this, sometimes a chastity device is used. This device covers the genitals fully, making it impossible to become erect, or even for the boy to touch them. This model is held in place by a Prince Albert piercing."

The next slide showed a close up of a not-so-big dick, his, with a gold ring in it. It went in the hole, and out the bottom behind the head. It was closed, then open with a hinge in the next one, to show how it worked. The next slide, and the clear chastity thing was on him. Unlike the one I'd had for a night, his hid ALL of his stuff.

And the next slide showed a tiny little padlock being put in the piercing and closed!

"The only way to escape this device would be to rip it out, thus damaging the penis badly," he explained.

"Wow," Canyon breathed.

"The ring, or PA," he called it, "Is also useful for added sensation in the circumcised male." I could see that as a boy, Mr. Poore didn't have that frenum-thingy either, just like Canyon.

I thought about Jeffie and how he had no dick-head. 'Like father, like son?' But then again, Canyon was castrated. And he wasn't pierced.

I was squirming, and I was so hard it hurt. That plug was making me crazy, and ALL I wanted to do was jack off!

"This can lead to frustration in the intact male, who, unable find sexual relief, may channel his energy into something else. Perhaps physical activity?"

There was a slide of Mr. Poore, about 13, I thought, working out. He looked better than Canyon, even.

"The castrated boy, or eunuch, however, faces challenges that the intact boy does not," Mr. Poore kept talking. "Deprived of testosterone, the main male hormone, he doesn't develop muscles as much, or as fast, as the intact boy. The eunuch has to work out harder, be more careful of his diet and workout, or he may get fat and soft."

The next slide was quite old, black and white, of some fat Asian kid. He even had small boobs, sorta like Margaret's. "This is a slide shot of an old print, from the collections of Chinese eunuchs' images stored in museum," Mr. Poore told us. "Very hard to come by."

I looked closer.

"He's got no dick!" I held up my hand.

"The Chinese believed in removing everything, Benjamin," he warned me. "But a natural reaction from you. A very, very tiny error."

I gulped.

I kept my hand up. He tapped my shoulder with the pointer stick he had.

"But 3; but 3; .? He can't NEVER fuck anyone, or jack off?"

"'Cannot ever'," he corrected me, "Correct you are! Primarily, in antiquity, the penis was removed to prevent the male from being able to have sex with women, which you already know all about. In slaves, this increased their value tremendously, as they were 'safe' – they had no penis, so therefore, they could not penetrate anyone. Castration alone did not always insure impotency. You know Canyon can still get hard, sometimes, but not often?"

Canyon sighed again.

"And, the castrated boy may still WANT to masturbate, or copulate, but given his hit-and-miss impotency, and the small size of his penis, he cannot. Removing the penis as well insures that he WILL not. Also, his development into a man is prevented by removing the testicles. Castrated slave boys were always worth more than intact boys. Also, some cultures considered the eunuch to be neither male nor female. A third sex."

"Whoa!" I said, and I swear, I was about to get off right there just watching it!

"So, now who can tell me the side effects of having his testicles removed?" Mr. Poore quizzed us. "Canyon?"

"Can't get hard, or not often."

"Good," Mr. Poore said. "Benny?"

"You can't have babies."

Then Canyon – "No whiskers."

I started thinking about men and how they looked. "Less muscles."

"No body hair."

"Weight gain and boobs?"

"'Breasts'," Mr. Poore corrected me. "And sometimes, weaker bones in men and boys castrated after puberty. Also, if castrated before puberty, the boy's voice stays high."

"Like the Italians did?" I held up my hand.

"Very good, did you read that somewhere?" He asked.

"Yes, sir. They trained them as singers."

"Very good! I'm impressed that you knew that, Benny! Today, however, castration is performed only in case of accident, or by an infection such as the mumps, which ruins the testicles. Sometimes, in the case of cancer, they are removed. Rare is the boy or man who simply WANTS to be castrated because he likes the look or feel."

I could feel him looking at me.

"It is NOT something to be taken lightly. Once castrated, one will never have testicles again. Boys who have not experienced partner-sex, or even wet orgasms, are best suited to this. Some men castrated after puberty find it difficult, if not impossible, to attain orgasm, or 'cum'. Some become impotent, without shots to correct it, while some do not. And of course, the castrated male will never make a baby of his own."

So there it was. I knew everything that Canyon was facing. No wonder Mr. Poore was so in control of him! He didn't want him to get fat, like that Chinese 'smooth' kid in the photo. I had to say, that poor kid looked miserable.

"At least today, the fatigue and impotency can be aided with hormone shots," Mr. Poore told us. "However, even 50 or so years ago, once a male was castrated, he was a eunuch – forever – come what may. Boys who were castrated could never become men. Never. The medicine did not exist. There is also the risk of his arms and legs bones growing too long," he changed slides, "Which dictates that some boys be put on hormones whether they want it or not."

The slide was very old, and it was a nutless white kid with hands down to his knees, and way long legs! He looked like a stick!

"That's why I took a year to decide, Benny," Canyon told me. "Hey, tha's me!" He laughed, when the slide changed.

I just sat and stared at the slide of Canyon.

It was the last one on the reel.

Trim, smiling little Canyon, with just his tiny little dick and nothing under it 3;

I sat back in my seat, and I was so close to getting off I wanted to scream!

God, he looked nice! I wanted so much to be built like that, not so 'soft' as I was. Heck, I wanted to touch him again, like I had that morning.

"The eunuch who is impotent, but still desires pleasure," Mr. Poore then started up again, "May find it in other ways. Benny?"

"Sir?"

"That plug in you is starting to feel pretty good, isn't it? Since you are not allowed to touch your hard little penis here in class, and you want to so badly?"

"Y-yes, sir!"

He changed slide trays.

The first one was a picture of a fake dick – a dildo. I knew what that was, 'cause Scott's mom had one! He found it looking for her stash of cash one day! But weren't those for women?

"Oh!" Canyon said.

Mr. Poore tapped him with the stick. Then he laughed.

The next slide was of the inside of a guy, showing how he was built inside. I saw the thing marked 'prostate' in the drawing.

"Some eunuchs make use of anal sex," Mr. Poore said, pointing to the prostate, "Or even boys and men who are not cut, but in chastity. Rubbing the prostate can produce an intense orgasm for some, whether with a dildo, finger, or other object. If puberty has begun, the this rubbing will cause the discharge of stored semen. The white stuff," he added.

I remembered Dr. Kent's fingers all too much! Hell, I'd never felt like THAT, and I was wishing my plug was doing a better job on my prostate just then!

The next slides showed a boy I didn't know having a dildo put in him. I remembered the porno, and wondered why someone just didn't fuck him? He was castrated, and in each slide, his little dick never hard. But then again, fucking him was certainly illegal!

But is it if another boy did it, and they wanted to? I wondered.

"We'll have a movie later," Mr. Poore told us, "So you can see the full effect of a boy castrated right at puberty getting off with an anal orgasm."

"Could just demonstrate," Canyon sighed.

Huh? What was he talking about? Demonstrate?!

(OK, OK, it went right by me! Over my head, zing!)

"CANYON!" Mr. Poore snapped.

"Sorry, sir." He sighed.

"Minor error, talking in class. You know better, and to raise your hand!"

I figured we both had a spanking coming then.

But I didn't dread it so much. What would it feel like, if he swatted me with that plug in me? And we were going to watch a movie? A movie of a eunuch-boy having a dildo used on him?

Or a movie of a eunuch-boy like Canyon getting his butt fucked – by a man?

Hell, that HAD to illegal!

It was like rape, or child molesting, or 3; or 3;

And I wanted to see it. But maybe if it was an 'intact' boy, that would be OK?

I didn't know why, but I HAD to see it. I knew Canyon could use his plug to help him jack of, IF he could GET hard – and it took a lot to get him hard, I knew. He got hard when he watched the two guys fucking on that porno.

If that made him gay, though, didn't it make me gay too?

Or if you were castrated, like Canyon, was he right when he said you weren't a boy anymore? Was he that third sex person, then? So if a eunuch did it with a guy, neither one was gay?

I was so confused.

Canyon's watched beeped.

Two hours were GONE fast, and it was time to eat lunch.

The lights came on, and I saw that Mr. Poore was hard, too. There was a big drip of something hanging off his PA ring.

"Punishment, both of you – up against the board, hands on it, lean, spread your legs." I followed Canyon's lead. "Talking in class," Mr. Poore told us, and you could hear the "WHISHHH!" of the pointer stick as he swung it.

'SWITCH!' It sounded like, and Canyon howled as it left a red mark across his butt. I was next. I screamed. It was far worse than the big paddle!

The Mr. Poore hugged us and told he loved us.

I guess we'd just had that long talk about castration, huh?

After we ate, my head was still spinning. I wanted to get off so bad, I could cry! But Mr. Poore had other plans. We were going to go over and check out my house again. Bob was coming with the AC pipe, which he had rushed in early. I had no idea why, but he did. Oh well, Mom could bitch about the fee. I'd just get yelled at, since she thought I'd broke it with the mower.

"Mr. Poore," I had to ask, holding up my hand as we headed for the gate to my yard. I still had my weights on.

"Yes, son?"

"I 3; I wanna know, sir, how much did this pipe cost? I have a piggy bank?"

"Not your worry, Benny," he told me, "I paid for it. I broke it, I bought it."

"Sir?"

Gosh, was he ADMITTING it? Did he know that I knew he set me up, and now he'd make it right?

"How else was I to insure that that awful Auntie of yours and her psychotic dog didn't come to keep my boy for two weeks?" Mr. Poore asked.

"Genius, Father!" Canyon complimented him.

"Yes, son, I know," He said back, and they were playing again.

"Father, can Benny teach me how to mow grass, then?"

"You don't have steel toed boots, son," He told him.

"Then get me some!" Canyon whined.

"You'll regret that after the first time," I told Canyon, "Trust me. You can borrow mine! I think we're the same shoe size."

"Oh, I do trust you, Benny, but it looks like bloody good, hard exercise, out in this heat, what?" Canyon smiled.

"Do you LIKE to suffer?" I asked him, and they both laughed like I'd told a huge joke! I didn't get it. I hated mowing, but the grass was pretty high again 3;

Didn't he not like it, with the one pass he'd made, though? Or did he want to use the gas mower? That manual old thing DID suck. It sucked big wind.

"Hang on! The Smiths will see us, sir!" I spoke up.

Mr. Poore unlocked the gate. "No, they go grocery shopping at 12:30 on Friday," Mr. Poore told me. "Your mother told me."

"Oh, right," I remembered, and they did. Every week, set your watch by it.

Good thing our back yard had a thick hedge of lilacs, so the people on the next street over couldn't see us!

I gasped when someone yelled at us.

"Martin!" A man in work clothes waved at us, raising up from by the AC unit of my house.

"Bob!" Mr. Poore shook his hand. "So good of you to come!"

Then I saw the tall, reedy blond boy that had passed us in the mall. He was tinkering with the valve on the copper line. He had that same haircut like ours, a bit longer, and a collar, too. He was only wearing short pants and sandals. I sighed in relief. I thought some random repair guy had just seen us naked!

"This must be Benny!" Bob greeted me. I shook his hand and imitated Canyon's greeting. "YOU need to be more careful, boy!" He warned me, shaking a wrench at me.

"Yes sir!" I nodded at him.

"Impressive," Bob told Mr. Poore, "Benny, this is my nephew, Bobbie."

The blond boy stood up and we shook hands. He fingers were really long, and he was thin. "Hiya," he smiled at me, and his voice squeaked.

"Bobbie's not had to get the shots, boys," Mr. Poore told us. "He was getting too tall and lanky, and that's dangerous for him, but he's stabilized now. He just needs to work out harder."

Bobbie nodded, and his 'uncle' clapped him on the shoulder. "Hate to see 'em grow up, but you know?"

"They all do, but there's always grandsons," Mr. Poore said.

'Grandsons, not 'grandchildren',' I thought.

"We're just going to check things out, get a few of Benny's things," Mr. Poore then said, and that was news to me.

"I'll have her done shortly," Bob nodded. "Then I got a delivery to Simonson's. That man keeps me in a job!"

"Remind Scottie to come over," Mr. Poore said. "We'll be expecting him at two for swimming, snacks, TV, and dinner later."

"Fun fun!" Bob laughed.

"Oh, yes," Mr. Poore smiled, and I got a chill.

We went on in while Bob and Bobbie went back to work. 'Bob and Bobbie'; it was funny!

"Sir, what are we looking for?" I asked.

"Making sure the trash it emptied, in case your mother forgot," Mr. Poore sneered, sniffing, "Yes, garbage! In a hot house!"

"Ewwww!" Canyon made a face.

So we emptied the fridge, what there was. I took out the stinky trash. Mr. Poore left all the 'frozen shit' he called it. He took the canned stuff. Then I saw he was taking all the school picture of me off the walls.

"I want to copy these, I'm sure Lois won't mind," he said.

I smiled. He wanted pictures, of ME, when I was younger? I thought I was going to cry. I didn't know why.

"Benny, go to your room and clean out all the stuff that you want to keep with you," He told me. "EVERYTHING. Piggy bank, favorite toys, leave the clothes," he added.

Canyon went with me to do that, and Mr. Poore went in Mom's room. I had no idea what he was looking for.

We were just finishing with packing my old toybox when I heard him yell.

Now, I've heard cursing, but hey – Mr. Poore made up new words that I don't dare use to this day!

"BENJAMIN!" He yelled at me, and we froze. "Get in here!"

I went into Mom's room. Hell I never went in there.

He was in her bathroom, and he had a box in his hands, from the medicine chest. He was holding up a needle, like that diabetic kid Kenny at school had to use. (He'd did it for show and tell once. Margaret fainted.)

"My God, Benny, are you diabetic?" He sounded panicked. "Do you get shots every day? Does Lois?"

"You mean like Kenny, at school? No, sir?" I answered him, scared out of my mind. "Why?"

"No, or course not. Wonderful, intelligent boy!" He praised me. Then he grabbed me and bent me over.

"S-sir?"

"Hold still, yes there it is!" He said. "Benny, did you have a bug bite on your butt the other day?"

"Yes, sir! It's been sore, like I sat on a bee!"

"That explains it," he sighed, and then he held me and kissed me again. He just kept doing it, and he had tears on his face! "Stupid, self-righteous BITCH!" He growled. "CANYON!"

"Sir?"

"Go home NOW, and call Dr. Kent! Tell him to get that blood work to me NOW! Tell him it's about Benny, and he needs to look for_____!"

(He said some word I'd never heard before, but I knew it wasn't 'insulin', like Kenny had to take, or he'd die. He had it bad.)

"Sir!" Canyon gasped, and he was gone. Boy, could he move!

"Sir, what's wrong? Am I 3; sick?" I was starting to cry.

"No, no, son," he assured me, holding me tight and then looking at my dick and balls very carefully. "Almost 13, no wonder! You poor boy! She had no right. This wasn't your choice! It HAS to be the boy's choice!"

"What, sir?"

Mr. Poore sighed and sat on the bed. He took me on his lap.

"Benny, this needle is for a very expensive drug. There's a whole box of needles, that's why I thought you were diabetic, and taking insulin."

"No, but we all know about Kenny?" I repeated. I didn't know what to say. Did he think Mom was giving me drugs? Was Mom sick, and I didn't know it?

"Yes? Kenny 3; poor child," Mr. Poore shrugged, "But you're not. Dr. Kent will know, yes! Anyway, Benny, I believe that your mother apparently has access to this drug through work. It's used to prevent boys from starting puberty."

WHAT THE HELL?

"She 3; she was trying to hurt me?" I gasped. I couldn't believe it – she was giving me shots?

"No, Benny," Mr. Poore sighed, "But judging from the look of this box, she's been shooting your little butt full of it while you were asleep. She might have drugged you, too, so you wouldn't wake up and know. That's why you're so small and haven't hit any sign of puberty, like your friends, Benny."

I just sat there. Mom drugging me? I mean, it was weird at Canyon's house, but at least Mr. Poore let us know what to expect! I remembered her reaction when I'd told her that Canyon was castrated. I told Mr. Poore about it, and her anti-man-rants. You'd think mom would have at least been surprised to find out my new friend had had his nuts cut off?

"Bitch," he muttered again. "Let's get your stuff, and the valuables. Everyone knows she's out of town, and we don't a robbery. Bob will have the AC fixed, so let's shut all the windows in case of rain again."

We did that. Boy, was Mr. Poore mad!

I wasn't too happy either. What would you do if YOUR mom was giving you shots of some drug to prevent puberty?

(I wondered if they were giving Michael Jackson that stuff, too?)

When we had the pictures and my stuff out (not the clothes), Mr. Poore ordered us to go lay out in the sun and do a Spanish lesson. He went back to the house, and he was gone until almost time for Scott to come over. He kept bringing boxes and sacks of stuff over, like he was moving me out of my house!

But if Mom was drugging me, I sure as hell didn't wanna go back!

He went back and talked to Bob some, and then Bob went back to work. I thought our AC was electric, but Bob was tinkering with the gas meter?

It was not quite 2 when we got a drink of ice-lemon water. Mr. Poore was sitting at the kitchen table, and he had Mom's jewelry box. I thought that was weird, but then again, he didn't want it stolen. He looked strange.

"She kept them," he sighed. "All these years."

In his hand was a pair of diamond earrings, just like Canyon's.

"I bought these for Lois when I proposed to her, our Sophomore year in University," Mr. Poore sighed, and he had tears in his eyes again. "Of course, she turned me down flat. My father was angry too, but for other reasons."

I saw the yearbook sitting on the table, too. He showed me their pictures, but it was when they graduated: Martin C. Poore, and Lois B. Pence. Mr. Poore had wanted to marry MY mom? And she turned him down? God, was she stupid, or what?

"Benny, I want you to keep these," Mr. Poore told me, and he put them in my hand. Canyon nodded.

"But 3; but she never wears these?" I said. "I've never even seen them, and 3; and I can't wear them, sir?" I looked at Canyon.

Canyon was touching my ear. "Father, let's get a needle and some ice," he said, smiling at me and nodding. "Benny SHOULD have those, if she didn't like them."

I knew what Canyon wanted to do. He wanted to pierce my ears, like his.

And I let him.

I sat there at the table, while they froze my ears with ice. Then Mr. Poore carefully pierced each one and put the earrings in. It was like two bee stings, but I held still.

I got so hard again 3;

Canyon was touching it, too, his moist little hand slowly jacking me off.

"Handsome," Mr. Poore sighed, and he kissed me again. "My beautiful boys," he said, "So proud 3;" he mumbled, as he went down the hall to his office.

I got off pretty fast.

I had just enough time to get a drink and stop panting when the doorbell rang.

Scott was there!

"I'll get it," I told Canyon, my earlobes still throbbing some.

When I opened the door, Scott just stared at me.

"Uhhhh, we not using swimsuits?" He gasped.

"Nope," I smiled at him.

"Cool! Hey, you lost weight?" He looked again. "Did your dick grow?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. Mr. Poore said I gained two pounds [2¼ kg]!"

He looked me over. "Cool necklace, and 3;" He paused. "What the hell? You got your ears pierced? Not just one?" He stepped in. "You ain't gay, are you?"

"Why, Scottie, you lookin' for a piece'o'ass?"

He just stared at me with his mouth open. I mean, I was glad to see him and all, but I wasn't in the mood for his shit.

He laughed.

"C'mon, man, it's hot out! And I wanna meet your new friend. Where is he?"

"Hello, Scottie," Canyon greeted him, as we walked into the kitchen. Then Canyon stood up.

"Wow, Ben wasn't lyin'! You are built! How'd you get muscles like that?" Scott gasped.

"I work out, with Benny now," Canyon shook his hand. "You're welcome to come and join us, if you think you can take it?"

Scott looked Canyon over, felt his biceps, looked at me, looked at Canyon, then shook his head. "You two look like twins," he said. "Earrings and all and 3;" He stopped. He'd just looked down.

I saw that he had a hard-on. One double the size of mine.

"Wh-what happened to your balls?" Scott gasped.

"Oh, I had them taken out when I was 9," Canyon sort of bobbled his head and shrugged.

Scott looked at me. I mouthed the word 'cancer.' He got it.

"I 3; I'm sorry, dude," Scott shook his head.

"I'm not," Canyon just grinned. "Come on, then. We've only got two hours until afternoon nap."

"Nap?" Scott snorted. "You take n- 3; oh, yeah, right! I get it!"

He was buying it. I just hoped he wasn't rude enough to say it to Canyon and blow it, because Canyon would probably tell him that he'd voluntarily been castrated!

We had fun in the pool until 4, and those weights really wore me down fast. I'd had them on all day, remember. Scott looked like he was having a good time, too, but he kept sneaking peeks at Canyon's crotch.

"Try this," Canyon told him, after he'd made our shakes. Mr. Poore was still holed up in his office.

"Pretty good," Scott said. He drank it all. Then his eyes started to droop. Canyon half dragged him over to his mat.

"He does have a rather large cock for his age," Canyon said. Scott just groaned.

"Tired?" He slurred.

"Then have a look at this," Canyon told him. "Benny, shut your eyes," he told me in a flat voice. I did that.

I could hear something clicking, really fast, and see flashes of light through my eyelids. What was Canyon doing? But I didn't care, all of a sudden. If Canyon was doing it, it must be OK.

"Take a nap, you're tired," Canyon told Scott. "Just watch the light, go to sleep, and you'll be really famished when you wake up. Would you like to spend the night, Scott? Perhaps have a wank with us?"

"A whut?" Scott asked.

"Jack off, old boy? I'd love to see what that cock of yours can do."

"Sure!" Scott said happily. Then he rolled over on the mat, I guess, and the clicking stopped. He was asleep when Canyon told me to look.

"Benny, take his clothes to Father," Canyon told me.

"Uh, sure, Canyon, but 3; why? What was that noise I heard? Why'd I have to not look?" I had to ask.

"It's complex, Benny," Canyon told me, "Just do as you're told, please?"

"What did you do to him?" I asked. By then, not much could surprise me.

"Just a small tranquilizer," Canyon said. "Half of one. Knocked him out like it does you! Scottie's just going to spend the night is all, so we should be considerate. Besides, we need a nap and he wouldn't have."

I was on the way out when I heard Canyon on the phone.

Where had HE found it?

"Hello? Yes, this is Ben," Canyon imitated my voice almost perfectly! "Can Scott stay the night, please? Oh, he's talking to Mr. Poore about plasterboard for the new rec room. Yes, I'll tell him. Thanks, Mr. Simonson! Oh, no, we'll drop him off tomorrow, if that's OK? What? Sunday? Well, where's Evan? I'm sure Mr. Poore won't mind at all, no, if Scott didn't wanna go. See you Sunday night, then, and thanks! I missed him! Bye!"

I took the clothes and left them at the door to the office.

Canyon and me shared a mat, and went to sleep snuggled up together.

"The Simonsons are off to see Auntie," Canyon told me, "Scottie didn't want to go, and Evan's sleeping over at his buddy's house."

So Scott (Scottie?) was going to spend the rest of the weekend?

Without his clothes?

Something flashed, and I figured Mr. Poore must have taken a picture.

No big deal.

I was too tired to care.

Chapter Twelve

Scott spends the night and gets disciplined. Ben learns a new trick from Canyon. Mr. Poore debates the risks of allowing Scott to go home or not, and Ben remembers the mystery he's been trying to solve. Mr. Poore reveals a few connections to Scott.

(When I woke up, Canyon was already gone. I saw that it was 10 past 6. A bit off – but why didn't the alarm wake ME up too? I wondered how Scott was going to take the news that he was staying, and that clothing wasn't optional – it was forbidden? Scottie had no clue what HE was in for 3;)

"Where you been?" I asked Canyon when he came in the patio door.

"Father sent me over with the money for Bob, I put Scottie's bike in the garage, and since you weren't up, I let you have a bit more rest, sleepyhead!" He grinned at me. Then kissed me. "Bob was telling me that Scottie stopped by to chat with him before he made it over here," Canyon added, and I didn't know what the look on his face was all about. "Best wake him up!"

"Don't you think 3; ?" I was asking, but Canyon gave Scott a shake. He didn't stir.

Canyon snapped his fingers in Scott's ear twice. "Wake up, Scottie," he repeated.

Scott woke up, stretched, and yawned. "Wow, I haven't done that since I was little!" He said, looking around. "What's with all the pictures?"

I looked around, and in addition to the pictures of Canyon all over the other two walls were all the school portraits of ME! I stared at them. Next to the newest picture of Canyon (shirtless, smiling) was one of me with my new haircut. THAT one I remembered.

"It's just creepy how much you two look like each other, now that you got a haircut, Ben," Scott pointed out.

"Yeah," I had to agree. Now that I wasn't so shaggy like Scott, I did look a LOT like Canyon. We looked like we were really brothers.

"So, uh, should we get dressed now?" Scott asked.

"Why?" Canyon asked. "Didn't Ben tell you that my father and I are nudists?"

"Uhm, NO!" Scott looked really surprised. I liked it.

"Well, if you want, you can leave," Canyon shrugged, "But Benny and I would like it if you stayed." He then put a tape in the VCR.

It was a porno.

"Your dad let's you WATCH this stuff?" Scott said.

"Yep," I told him. "Mr. Poore's very open about stuff."

"Is he 3; gonna be here, naked, too?" Scott asked.

Canyon rolled his eyes. "When he's done in his office, yes. Snacks?"

"Huh?"

"Food?" Canyon repeated. I went to the fridge. The usual snack tray was ready, but I didn't think Scott would like any of the stuff on it. There were those no-bake peanut butter things, though. There was also some punch of some kind, no sugar, I figured, since Canyon (and me) wasn't allowed it.

The porno had Scott's attention, though. It was the straight part. To get right to it, he liked that. Canyon suggested he not touch himself, though – "wait and make it better."

Scott really got into the lesbians, but he wasn't too sure about watching two guys.

"That's just 3; weird," he said.

But he also stayed hard. In fact, I think he was harder and his heart was pounding. You could see his dick pulsing in time to his heartbeat.

"So what do you think, Scottie?" Mr. Poore then asked, when he showed up in the doorway. He wasn't hard (yet), but he looked like, I dunno? A detective? Looking for clues 3; something?

Scott turned a million shades of red, and Mr. Poore laughed at him.

"Benny had the same problem at first," he assured him. "You get used to it. By the way, you're staying until Sunday night, did you know?"

I paused the tape.

"I don't have to go to my Aunt's place?" Scott asked. "Cool!"

"And you're not bothered by this?" Mr. Poore asked him.

"Oh, no! Heck, you're built like an athlete! Not like it's my dad's potbelly or something! Now that'll bother you!" He laughed. We all did.

I figured the dirty-minded kid wouldn't mind. After all, if it had to do with sex or something you shouldn't do, Scott was all for it. I mean, 'I' wasn't the one stalking Margaret with binoculars.

Mr. Poore sat down in his usual chair. He resumed the tape. I could tell Scott was somewhere between grossed out and fascinated.

"Have you ever seen two boys do this, Scottie?" He asked.

"It's Scott, and no, I haven't," Scott replied.

I thought, 'major error there,' but kept quiet. Canyon winked at me.

"But you're still watching?" Mr. Poore pressed him.

"Scottie's been hard the whole time, sir," Canyon spoke up.

Scott got red again. "You watchin' me, or what?" He asked, putting his hands over his privates.

Hell, I was hard, too.

"What's the point in sexual education, if you don't look at ALL the proverbial books?" Mr. Poore asked.

"I don't like this gay stuff," Scott told him. "It's gross!"

"Just because you've never seen it before, right?" Mr. Poore pressed him.

"Boys are supposed to do it with girls!" Scott declared, but he was still watching the smaller guy getting his butt fucked – but good. His dick was leaking, and he'd never even touched it.

"Is that why you're about to cream yourself?" I had to ask Scott.

For once, I had the advantage. And I knew it. Mr. Poore nodded, just enough for me to see it.

"But that's just 3; GAY!" Scott pointed at the TV.

"So why you so hard, about to drip on the rug, and still watching it?" I asked him.

The look on his face was just – great!

"I think he likes it," Canyon added, grinning.

Scott was speechless. I was loving it.

"What? Do you LIKE this shit, Ben?" He asked me.

"I'm hard, ain't I?" I told him. "And so are you?" I added. "Why?"

"What, are you tellin' me YOU'RE gay?" Scott asked me.

"If I am, you are too," I told him, "We're both watching it, we're both hard, and you know what a STOP button is, right?"

"You've never seen a boy get his arse fucked before?" Canyon asked.

"Have YOU?" Scott gasped at him.

Canyon shrugged. "Yes." He waited a second. Scott looked like he was about to run, but knew he didn't have clothes! "Right there on the TV," Canyon added. He had me for a minute – I thought he'd actually 3; never mind 3;

Scott grinned. "That was a good one! You almost had me!"

Oh, I think I do have you, Scottie, I was thinking. Unless you wanna run home naked, that's IF you can get out of the house or yard!

"Scottie," Mr. Poore winked at me, "Benny tells me you've been jacking off together, and that you can shoot? Is that true?"

HOW DID HE KNOW THAT? I never told him we did that! Maybe he guessed?

Scott was red in the face again. "D-don't all boys do it?" He said, good as admitting it.

"If they CAN," Mr. Poore nodded. "It's a natural thing. I allow Benny and Canyon to do it anytime they want. Of course, being a eunuch, it's harder for Canyon."

"A what?" Scott asked.

Mr. Poore nodded slightly at me.

"Since he doesn't have balls anymore, it's harder for him to get it up and get off," I explained it.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Scott got even redder. "I didn't realize 3; I didn't mean to 3;"

"It's all right, Scottie," Mr. Poore told him, "Canyon didn't take any offense, I'm sure."

"No, sir!" Canyon spoke up.

"Are you like, in the army or something?" Scott laughed. "'sir'?"

"I respect MY father," Canyon said, and he was all business again.

"Thank you, son," Mr. Poore smiled at him, then he turned back to Scott. "Respect is a very good thing, Scottie," he said in a low voice, "But back to the topic – you're bothered by the fact that some males may need anal stimulation to be able to achieve what intact males take for granted?"

Scott was squirming. He didn't have a clue what Mr. Poore had just said, and he had to think about.

"Can you repeat the question, please?" He asked, just like in school.

That little nod again.

"It bugs you that someone like Canyon needs to have something stuck up his butt to help him get off?" I explained it.

"Well, if you wanna talk dirty about it," Mr. Poore rolled his eyes.

"Sorry, sir," I added.

"See, Scottie, I CAN'T jack off like you can, even if I CAN get hard," Canyon nodded. "I like to get off, I want to get off, but most times, I can't. I have to have a lot of help, since I'm castrated."

I could tell that this was really messing Scott up. He kept sneaking glances at the TV, and his brain (such as it was) was trying hard to put it all together.

"I 3; I guess it's not fair, is it?" He finally said.

THIS, from SCOTT?

What HAD Canyon put in his drink? I had to laugh.

"Scott, did you know that Benny's mother was giving him a drug to keep him starting puberty? That's why he's so far behind the rest of your little gang – you, Fred, Denny, and the rest of them?"

Now HOW did he know about my friends? I had to wonder. This was getting weird again, as if us sitting around naked watching porn wasn't already 3;

"You've never even put a finger up your butt when you jack off?" Canyon asked Scott, and he turned so red I thought I'd have to throw cold water on him!

"D-Doctor Kent gave me an emena once, last summer, when I was constipated," Scott admitted, and THAT got my attention at once! Or course I remembered it. Scott hadn't pooped in four days, and his mother was going to take action! It was one of those rare times we could laugh at HIM.

"That's 'eNeMa,' and he is an old-fashioned pediatrician, Scottie," Mr. Poore put in, winking at me. "Then again, some kids aren't lucky enough to have medical care."

"I didn't like it," Scott growled. "He put a tube up my butt!"

Now why did that not surprise me? I guess a lot of boys in town saw Dr. Kent. I just wondered how many got 'extra treatment'?

"He checked me out the other day," I added, "And it felt pretty good. You know, the finger?" I winked at him.

Everyone knew the finger joke about prostate checks, even if we didn't fully get it, like I did now! Denny's dad had to have a prostate test, and we thought it was just gross! That was, until I had one. I was hard just thinking about it. Right then, I realized, I'd like to see Scott yelling if someone shoved a plug up HIS ass!

"Kids don't get prostate checks, only old men do!" Scott 'bout yelled.

I shrugged. "I liked it."

I couldn't believe I was saying that, but it was true. I figured that Canyon and his dad there were giving me the nerve to stand up to Scott, finally.

"Some intact boys can get off, just like THAT," Mr. Poore then snapped his fingers, and I saw the battery light flashing on the smoke alarm again. It was blinking on and off, fast, and I thought, 'Didn't he fix that YET?'

"I 3; I dunno," Scott fudged. "It's weird."

"Try it," I said.

HUH? WHAT did I just say, out loud?! To Scott? That wasn't like me at all – I was usually too scared he'd laugh at me.

Mr. Poore tossed a Kleenix at Scott. "Use that, before your cock leaks on my carpet, please?" He said.

Scott just about died! He was so keyed up he didn't know what the hell to think!

"Oh, bother!" Canyon sighed, "Just watch the bloody tube, Scottie!" He then got some lotion on his hand, and I couldn't believe it – he as going to jack Scott off!

"Wh-what'r you doin'?" Scott gasped. "I 3; I don' wanna do no gay shit!"

"You're a boy, I'm not, so it's not gay," Canyon told him.

Scott was looking at Canyon again, and he just nodded.

OK, I don't know WHY Scott let him do it. I was so surprised, all I could do was stare. Canyon not only jacked him off, he also slid a finger up his butt. He did that first, really, and did it for a couple minutes before he even touched Scott's dick. Scott kept trying to say no, but he didn't move, either. Canyon just snapped his fingers in his face and told him it was gonna be the best cum he'd ever had.

I guess he believed him?

Judging from the look of it, the mess he made, and how he was yelling, I guess it was, then?

"That's just absolutely disgusting," Canyon declared, when Scott was done. He was crashed on the mat, panting and sweating. "Do all boys with big nasty balls like that make such a mess, Father?"

Mr. Poore nodded.

Canyon glared at me, then!

"I am so glad I'm a eunuch!" He snorted, as he went to wash his hands. "FOR THE LOVE OF 3;" he was yelling, "Someone isn't very CLEAN!"

Mr. Poore was laughing so hard that he was coughing.

Scott was just out of it, staring at the ceiling with this stupid (or stupid-er) look on his face.

All in all, I could relate to it.

And it was worth every second, so see the look on Scott's face!

We watched a movie when Scott was recovered. He didn't talk about it, but I could tell he'd liked it. Of course, there was no WAY in hell he was going to tell Fred or Denny! I was laughing to myself at that, too. How would everyone take it if they knew Scott had had something up the butt?

Then again, how was HE was going to take it if he knew that I did, all the time?

It just didn't make a whole of sense, OK? But it felt damn good.

But Scott was embarrassed, and he knew that I knew it, too. Probably too embarrassed to tell his folks too. I could see it: "That eunuch kid down the street raped me!" – Like THAT was gonna happen.

"Dude, I won't tell if you don't," he whispered to me as we went to have dinner, "But that was just – mind blowing!"

"I know," I reminded him, and it was great to finally have HIM where he usually had ME all the time.

"Have you guys been 3; you know 3; ? Like, 3; all week?" He whispered to me.

"Yeah," I said, "Why?"

"This is too weird," he shook his head.

Then Mr. Poore poured him a glass of wine.

"For real?" Scott gasped.

"For real," Mr. Poore said in that warning voice.

"This is illegal!" Scott said.

"I know," Mr. Poore grinned at him, and I got a chill again.

Scott had two glasses. Me and Canyon knew better than to ask. By the time we had our fruit dessert, Scott had a buzz and was giggling!

We were cleaning up from dinner, and I was wondering what was going to happen with bedtime. Scott needed a bath, that much I could smell! We could all fit in the tub downstairs, no problem, but what about the enema thing? How was he gonna take that? I KNEW his folks hadn't signed any papers. Still, he'd not run screaming after being jacked off by Canyon.

I asked Canyon about it while Mr. Poore was giving Scott a condensed 'sex ed talk'. Scott was still redder than red, but he WAS sitting there listening. I loved it! He was so embarrassed!

"The prostate is extremely sensitive, Scottie," Mr. Poore was telling him.

"Well, it didn't bother YOU, now, did it?" Canyon asked me.

"YEAH, it did! I was freaked out!" I told him. "And if he tells, his folks'll call the cops!" I thought about. "But I don't think he will."

"Joe can intercept any of that crap," Canyon shrugged. "Remember? Benny," he then got quiet and serious, "What you don't understand is that Father is very well connected. He has friends everywhere. We never would have moved here if his connections couldn't have made more connections for us, you know."

"Connections for WHAT?" I had to ask.

Canyon shrugged. "This," he looked around. "You worry too much, Benny. Before Monday morning, Scottie will be begging to stay here."

"But?"

"Benny, don't ask too many questions, please?" Canyon asked me, and he was so sincere.

THAT made me shiver again. I'd been scared, too, even had a plan with Scott to call the cops, but this wasn't like with me! His parents wouldn't have agreed to any of what 3; what they'd done to me! I mean, Scott could always go home, but if he told 3; ?

What if he TOLD?

I was beginning to wonder, too.

I hadn't thought about the whole thing that had got me into this mess – Ronnie T. King. I was too busy. I had some ideas, yeah, but I still didn't have any proof. And more and more, I was beginning to think I was crazy. After all, it was just an anagram, they called it.

Would a kidnapper do everything for me that Mr. Poore had? Even tell me I could leave? Hell, he was even taking care of my house until Mom got back. Besides, everyone knew I was there, and he wanted to marry my Mom back when! Scott had told everyone I was staying there too.

Then again, Mr. Poore was taking care of me.

Better care than Mom took of me, too.

And he loved me.

And he showed it.

But I had to ask myself this: Even a week ago, would you have let someone see you naked, let a boy with no balls kiss you, even jack you off, give you an enema, and put a plug up your butt – much less strap you into bed, helpless, at night? Would you have let a new neighbor act like 3; your own dad? Or more than a dad?

But 3; I wanted to stay there?

Every time I thought about going home, it made me sad.

I was thinking about calling Mom for the first time ever, despite the fact that she was giving me some kind of anti-puberty drug, when Mr. Poore said, "Bath time!"

'Oh, shit!' I thought.

"So who goes first?" Scott asked.

"We can all fit the tub at once," Canyon told him.

"I ain't took a bath with my little brother since I was like 7!" Scott said.

I shrugged. "Me and Canyon take a bath together all the time. Cuts the water bill."

Did I just say that?

So we went downstairs.

Scott was blown away by the bathroom. I guess being into hardware and all?

"What's the hoses for- oh shit!" He changed course fast, when he recognized the white hoses. "NO! No way am I getting an enema!" He said, hands out, "I'll just go home, OK?"

One problem was that he was loaded on strong white wine!

The other was:

"There's no one home, Scottie," Mr. Poore said, "And I was verbally authorized to care for you until tomorrow night. I told your parents I would treat you no differently than I do Canyon, so you have to stay here."

"Like hell!" Scott protested.

"You're gonna run home naked?" I asked him. "Scott, you'll feel so much better in the morning, trust me. It feels good."

Well, it did.

Mr. Poore snapped his fingers. "Scottie, on the bench, NOW!" He ordered him.

"But 3; but 3;" Scott cried 3;

OK, to make it quick – he cried, he argued, he tried to bolt. He even yelled. In short, he made a lot of errors.

Big errors.

And in the end, he wound up manhandled and strapped to the bench with a nozzle in his butt.

"Please, NO!" Scott was yelling.

"Benny, would you like to do this?" Mr. Poore asked me.

I didn't know what to say.

"Sir?"

"I'LL CALL THE COPS!" Scott was screaming – but he was hard as a rock, too. That scared me, though.

"Didn't he always make fun of you, Benny?" Mr. Poore asked me, kissing my cheek and putting his hand on my butt. "Make fun of you, because you couldn't shoot cum yet, or stay hard? Because your dick is so little?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you want to get even?" Mr. Poore asked. "Even if it hurts him?"

I thought about it.

"I can't believe he's your friend," Canyon shook his head. "He doesn't even have any respect for anyone."

Scott was going wild trying to get loose, but the straps held him.

"How many times he hurt you, just screwin' around, or play fighting?" Canyon asked me. "This it was all accidents?"

'No,' I realized. Scott was bigger, and always took advantage of it.

I grabbed the little bottle and connected it to the nozzle and squeezed. Then I plugged the hose in and turned the water on.

It didn't take long for Scott to start blowing up like a water balloon.

"AAIIGGHH!" He was screaming, "It hurts! Turn it off! Please, I'll do anything!"

"Anything?" Mr. Poore asked.

"ANYTHING!"

"Shut it off at 1.0, Benny," Mr. Poore told me, "Then you and Canyon go and get yours. Try to get up to 1.6, won't you?"

We did that.

Scott was sweating, but he wasn't struggling anymore. Mr. Poore rubbed his tummy, trying to get the water up in him further. "Your parents were told that you'd be treated the same as the boys here," Mr. Poore told him, "And they gave verbal consent. I have a recording."

Scott gave up.

OK, so in the end, it was gross. Scott needed it bad, and he got four sessions before he was let loose for a bath. When he was, he was so out of it that we had to bath him. Mr. Poore carried him up to the bedroom. I guess the wine had hit bottom?

But there were only two beds.

"Where's he gonna sleep, sir?" I asked.

"In Canyon's bed," Mr. Poore said, "Canyon can sleep in Daddy's bed tonight."

Canyon's eyes brightened, and I'd never heard him call himself 'Daddy' before.

Scott was groaning, and he collapsed on Canyon's bed.

"I have to peeeeee," he moaned.

Mr. Poore wasn't done, though. He was angry.

"We bring a boy into our home with parental consent, feed him, risk everything, and what do we get? Disrespect, and threats," he told me. "Benjamin," he said, and I knew he meant business then. "Put a diaper on Scottie, and strap him in. Get him ready for bed, I don't want any accidents."

"D-diaper?" Scott moaned, and his eyes were crossed.

"Yes 3; sir 3;" I said slowly, and I'll tell you, I liked putting him in diaper. He'd humiliated me enough, Scott had, I'd been humiliated with a diaper, and now it was his turn. Think he'd tell, did he? I'd have Canyon kick the shit out of him first!

"B-Ben, whut 3; whu's goin' on?" Scott slurred, as I strapped him in. I put the blindfold on him.

"You're fuckin' drunk," I told him. "Go to sleep!"

"He 3; he got me drunk!" Scott whined. "He gave me booze! I'll tell!"

"No one made you drink it, lightweight," Canyon said, grinning.

"No blindfold for him, Benny," Mr. Poore said, then he put me to bed. He kissed me, told me was SO proud of me, that I couldn't have done better, and that I was in for a huge reward. He touched me, down there, and I got hard. He rubbed me a little, but left me hard and frustrated when he blindfolded me. "So proud you're not afraid of the dark anymore, son," He kissed me again, hard, with his tongue. Then he put the headphones on, and that was that.

Darkness and music for ten hours.

(Of course, there was no way I could have known that Canyon turned the red overhead light on, and that Scott wasn't blindfolded. I'm sure he howled his voice raw until he passed out, but I never heard him.)

Scott was still sleeping when I was woke up Sunday morning, in the usual way. Mr. Poore was the same as every morning, but he was LOT more serious after Canyon and me had cleaned up. Canyon was really perky, too. All he would tell me was that he hadn't slept 'in Father's bed' in a while, and that he wished he could do it every night. What was that? I noticed that he had a silly grin on his face, and that he was walking – like he was when I'd first seen him when he'd moved in? He didn't put his feet flat on the floor, and there was a spring to his step. He was really happy, though, and that made me smile.

"Benjamin, we have a problem," Mr. Poore told me, when we went in to get Scott up. "You adapted rather quickly, and to be frank, I was surprised. Scottie, however, may not be so tractable. They're expecting him home tonight, after dinner, and I am not sure he can be trusted. What do you think?"

"He's a weasel, sir," I nodded. "But I don't think he'll tell. It would be too embarrassing for him!"

Mr. Poore shook his head. "I don't want to take that chance. I may have to violate my own rule, Benny," he rubbed my back. "Then again, we've had to deviate some, since you showed up, haven't we?"

I froze.

"No, no," he laughed, "It's quite all right! That's called 'compromise' – you had needs, I supplied them." Then he got serious again. "Tell me, do you REALLY like Scottie?"

"I 3; I 3; well, he's my friend, but," I kinda hesitated.

My friend? The mooch who always put me down? Made fun of me? HUNG ME OUT TO DRY OVER THAT FUCKING WINDOW?!

(OK, I know, let it go 3; but I couldn't.)

"Benny, listen to me. If Scott tells his parents, and they believe him, Joe may not be able to clean up this mess. We can't take that chance. Scottie's pretty pigheaded, you know, and I'm not sure we can convince him that there's really nothing wrong here."

But was there? I couldn't help but still think that there was. It was just nagging at me, the 3; weirdness 3; of it all, even though I was pretty happy. I remembered how freaked out Scott's mom had been over us being five minutes late getting back from the The Shack, and she'd called the cops. If Scott told her this story 3; oh hell!

Would she even believe him, though?

I mean, Scott didn't have the best track record in that department. Like when he'd convinced that old Mr. Smith was growing weed in his garden – and it was lemon verbenas!

"Let's see by the end of today, sir," I nodded. "If not, then 3; then, we can punish him."

"We?" Mr. Poore smiled. "Do I have a mouse in my pocket, boy?"

"Sir!" I said, and it fell to me to get Scott up.

"THE HELL?" He yelled, when I smacked his butt and woke him up. "OH, God, my head!" He squirmed. "MY BUTT!" He yelled. "You 3; dammit! Take it out! Take it outta me!"

I looked, and saw the little ring. Scott had been put to bed plugged. That, and his diaper was wet. I pulled it off and tossed it to Mr. Poore, who trashed it.

I yanked the headphones off and thought of something. He had a morning hard-on, and I touched it.

"No! Don't! Not that gay shit! I don't wanna 3; ah, damn!" He groaned, "Canyon? Ben?" He gasped, "SHIT! This is child molesting!"

I got him off, fast.

"Not if a child did it," Canyon laughed.

"Just wait 'til I tell Denny and Fred that you passed out, so drunk, you pissed in your diaper, and liked it when we jacked you off!" I threatened him. "You got a plug up your butt, too, and it looks like you like it, too!" I teased him.

"Ben, I'll 3; .I'll kick your 3;" he started, but I smacked his butt again. Helpless, he couldn't move or see me.

"I got a picture of it," I lied, "You, in a diaper. Besides, Canyon could break you in half!"

"You son of a bitch!"

"Yep," I agreed, and well 3; maybe I was? I wasn't too happy with Mom right then either.

"I'm gonna tell what kinda 3; what kinda 3; what the hell is goin' on here?" He demanded. "You can't DO this shit!"

"I think I just jacked you off, and you liked it," I reminded him. "That, and you got drunk last night." I was thinking fast. "When Mr. Poore finds out you sneaked his wine, he'll tell your mom. I bet she'll be pissed! You'll be grounded all summer! Dr. Kent can find alcohol in your blood, you know!"

Which reminded me, had he called? Mr. Poore hadn't told me.

"I 3; I 3; oh my head!" He whined. "How come I can't move?"

I unstrapped him. "To prevent bedspins or wandering off, when you're drunk, you know? What if you fell down the stairs? Good thing you had a diaper, asshole, you soaked it!"

"My butt feels funny!" Scott whined.

"You had an enema, for the second time in your life," I told him. "Want me to tell Fred?"

"NO!"

"Then come and clean up, have some breakfast with us. It'll help. We have to work out at 9, you know, unless you're too big of a pussy!"

It was working.

"If you can do it, I fucking can!" Scott told me, and I took the blindfold off. He winced at the light. He had a hangover.

"You're in over your head, Scottie-boy," I told him. "I can't figure this all out if you blow it, asshole!" I told him. "And I like it here! Don't mess it up for me, or it'll be bad! Do you get me?"

There – I'd said it out loud.

And it was true.

Scott nodded. He was almost panicked.

But then again, was I in over my head? I didn't think about. I was having fun. I liked where Scott was. For a change, and I liked where I was.

In control of HIM for once.

"You have no idea how bad, Scottie," Mr. Poore told him, and Scott just froze. After all, Mr. Poore could be scary if he had to. He put his arm around me. "Canyon's gone getting breakfast ready, so you two come down and eat. Oh and Scottie?"

"Yeah?"

Another error. He just wasn't learning.

"I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to Benny before his mom gets back, now, would you? Or even to Evan?"

"Eh-Evan?" Scott gasped.

"Your little brother?" Mr. Poore told him, "Staying with Auntie? I called her last night, you see. I'd hate to see anything happen to him." But if he had called, we didn't see it. He'd been with us.

Scott was pale.

"C'mon," I told him, "It's time to eat and work out."

Scott went on to the bathroom. On the way down, I looked at Mr. Poore. Would he really hurt me, if he had to? Or Evan? I didn't think so, as he kissed my neck under my ear. He had to be just making a threat. "Sir, did you really call about Evan?" I had to ask.

"Benny, I don't even know his Aunt's name!" He laughed. "If Canyon hadn't told me he was 3; wherever he was 3; I wouldn't even know Scottie had a brother!"

We got a good laugh out of that.

But didn't he know everything else? I wondered, still 3;

Canyon had everything ready but the eggs, in the microwave, and after we ate, it was workout time. I was still weighted down, but I was ready.

Scott wasn't.

He was sniffling like a baby ten minutes in.

He tried to quit, and found himself strapped onto the weight bench! Face down. And he got his ass smacked with the school pointer stick if he slacked off! I was getting sore again, but not so bad. I kept going. When 10 rolled around, it was all Scott could do to stay awake in class. It was clear he didn't like sitting anymore, either.

We had a lecture on sexuality. Scott's jaw just hung open most of the time.

The slides on various positions and the idea of oral sex (gay or straight) just messed him up more. It kinda blew my mind, too. Wonder what it felt like to get a blowjob?

Lunch, and then it was the short workout. This was mowing the lawn. With a manual mower. I think the boots nearly killed Scott while we raked and trimmed. He collapsed at 1, and I don't think he learned any Spanish, either! He also didn't get oiled, and I was thinking, 'sunburn'!

He tried slacking off in the pool, but that didn't work. Mr. Poore joined us and made him swim and dive. My legs were getting rubbery again, but not so bad. The weights were helping my resistance, and so were the pain pills. And I could see I was starting to tone up already. No way was I giving this up! It sure beat screwing off all summer, I thought. I was gonna be ripped like Canyon when school started again. Then we'd see who was on the bottom of the picking list!

After our shakes at 4, I got a surprise.

Scott was really suffering when he staggered in and drank his. He had no idea what to think, I could tell.

We had three mats to nap on now, but when we went in, the light on the smoke alarm started blinking really fast. I mean, fast. I was staring into it when Canyon pulled me back. "Don't look at it, Benny," he told me. "Not this time."

"Why?"

"You don't need it," Canyon told me. "HE does!"

Scott was just sitting there, staring into the strobe light. I knew then that it wasn't a smoke alarm. He was being hypnotized! I got another chill. Did they ever do that to me?

Canyon seemed to know it, too. "Yes, at first, Benny. I was so scared you'd flip and not come back, or tell! But I wanted a friend so bad!" He was almost in tears, too. Of course I forgave him at once.

"It's not like you made me believe I was a chicken or something!" I laughed, as Mr. Poore kept telling a nodding Scott that it was OK, everything was fine, and that he needed our help. He'd feel better when he woke up, and that he should try new things, keep his mind open, like me.

I started to wonder just how much of that they'd told me? How much of what I was thinking was really ME, or what THEY told me to think? But right then and there, I was rock hard and liking it that it was Scott all messed up.

"Scottie, you go to sleep now, and when you wake up, you can have a nice wank, OK?" Mr. Poore told him. "We don't punish boys for having a good time here, unlike some parents."

"Thank you," Scott nodded, drooling, and he fell over and went to sleep.

We did too, but because we were tired.

When we woke up, all at once, Scott sat there blinking like he was lost.

"Man, I hurt all over," He groaned and squirmed. "Can I get up now?"

"Well, yeah, it's two hour free time," Canyon told him. "What do you wanna do?"

"Can we 3;" he whispered it, "Can we watch porn?"

"Gay or not?" I asked him.

"I dunno," Scott said, "I 3; I'm not gay, but 3; ?"

"You get hard watching it? It's a statistical fact that a lot of males do," Canyon told him. Good grief, was there anything he DIDN'T know? I felt so dumb. But it made ME feel better, too.

Canyon put a video in. "How do you feel about watching boys do eunuchs?" He asked.

"What?"

"Boys like me?" Canyon repeated, pointing at his crotch.

"Oh, I 3; I dunno?" Scott asked. "I guess it's fair, though? Since you can't 3; ?"

"Fuck?"

"Right!"

"Scottie, you just need to learn that not everyone has it so good as you," Canyon told him, and I could feel him laying it on thick. It was like, 'put your boots on, it's getting deep in here'! "I bet with 4 inches [10 cm], you could just about fuck someone."

"Margaret said hell no," Scott sighed.

"Did you really feel her tits?" I asked.

"No," Scott admitted it. I didn't think so, either 3;

The video started up, and I was surprised, too. I recognized Kim from the mall! But he was younger, maybe? About our age? He was sure taller than us, I remembered. He was naked, of course, and he was also castrated. He looked a lot like Canyon. It was a good filming job, too. Not jerky or blurry.

There was an older boy talking to him, and Kim looked kinda sad. The older boy, who was intact, asked him what was the matter. Kim said, "I wanna get off, but I can't get hard anymore," he said. "Not since I was castrated."

That even got Canyon hard!

Then the older boy and him started making out! Kim gave him a blowjob, but stopped before the other boy got off. Then he gave Kim one, but that didn't get him hard either. It wasn't long before Kim was taking the other boy's dick up his butt, and he was looking like he just loved it.

OK, so it wasn't Oscar material 3;

Scott was just stunned. Hard, but stunned. You could have sneezed and he'd have fell over.

"That's just 3; not right," he finally said.

"But what about Kim?" Canyon asked him, "It isn't fair, remember? So he has to do it like that. And he likes it."

Scott's dick was drooling by then, and Canyon gave him some lotion. I looked and saw that he had a little sunburn, too.

"It'll be different, if you get off with that plug in you," I told him, and I put some burn gel on his back. He sighed, relieved. It must have been hurting.

"I know, I don't like this thing," Scott whined, but he kept watching the video. I mean, he didn't HAVE to, did he?

It didn't take him long, though, and well 3; it was a mess. Mr. Poore looked in from cooking dinner and laughed. Then he made Scott clean it up with a wet rag.

"Benny, do you want to try something new, for you?" Canyon asked me.

"OK?" I wondered what it was.

Canyon then pulled a small dildo out of the pouch on the armchair. It wasn't that big, but maybe a bit bigger than Scott's dick. I just looked at it.

"Don't touch yourself. I want to see if you can get off just by getting fucked with this," Canyon told me, "Like I can."

"I 3; uh, OK?" I said. I mean, if the plug was OK, that would be better, right? And Canyon used one? When? It didn't surprise, me, not really, too much.

"Scottie, you can come and help me make dinner?" Mr. Poore offered, winking at me.

I couldn't believe it when Scott agreed!

"I 3; I just don't wanna watch you, OK, Ben?" He said. It sounded like he was afraid of me? The hell?! I liked that, OK? He was scared!

"Remember, Scottie," Mr. Poore was telling him, "Benny doesn't have the advantages that you do. It's not fair to him. Isn't he entitled to feel good, too?"

"Yes, sir, he is," Scott answered him, and he finally said 'sir'.

Canyon shook his head as he lubed me up, after sliding my plug out. It was clean, too. "He's not a quick study, is he?"

"No."

Canyon got the thing into me slow, and when he did, it was like the doctor feeling me in there – only better! He moved it in and out slow, then faster. That's all he did. Never touched my hard little dick. In fact, it got half soft and I got off in about ten minutes. Up until that, it was just like – each time he moved it, I thought I would, but didn't. It was like, 'next time, next time, next time 3; '

Until 3;

"OHHHH!" I yelled. I think I yelled. It was all kinda blurry.

"Excellent," Canyon told me. "My turn," he then said.

So, yeah, I returned the favor.

He got off, but it took a hell of a lot longer and my arm was tired.

It got kinda stupid after that, him telling how glad he was that I was there, how much he loved me, and hugging me, and finally crying! I didn't know what to do.

"Benny, promise me you won't leave," He was whispering in my ear.

"Canyon, I live next door?"

"I know," he sighed, but by then, dinner was ready.

We'd been too busy to notice it, but when we sat down to eat, me and Canyon just froze:

Scott had got a haircut!

"Y-you like it?" He asked, sounding kinda like a little kid and fidgeting in his chair. Mr. Poore was rubbing at his elbow, too.

Scott's eyes were red, too.

He'd been crying.

The phone rang around 845. Scott's folks were back.

Mr. Poore was all business. He unplugged Scott, gave him a little bottle of the burn gel, and got his clothes and shoes back. He then gave him a VCR tape. "That's for you, Scottie," he told him. "It's SLP, six hours of straight porn and lesbians. You didn't get it here, got me?"

Scott nodded and then looked at his watch. It was a cheap wind-up one, but Mr. Poore had put a new band on it for him, since his was about to break.

"Now, you have a choice, my boy. You can go home and tell, I'll probably go to jail, and the boys will go into care somewhere. But I won't be gone for life, and I have a very long memory. So does Canyon." I glared at Scott and mouthed the word "Ronnie." Mr. Poore wasn't done though.

"You've experienced something new, Scottie, and I'd hope you appreciate it. Then again, your parents may not believe you. I also don't want to see my good friend, Bob, suffer a loss of income. And it would be shame if my friend, Joe, the cop? Yes, it would be bad if he were to find out about the deals that Bob has been giving your father on, shall we say, 'missing' hardware?"

Scott gulped.

I could tell that he knew. There was no way his dad could have paid for all the new crap he had in that garage. I wondered, too, but now I knew. Bob!

God, Mr. Poore was slick!

"And Benny has to stay here for another week, as well, recall," He went on. "He's very happy here, Scottie, and his mother told me he's been very depressed lately. Did you know she was thinking of putting him in The Blanken Center?"

Scott's jaw dropped.

The Blanken Center was where they sent kids that like, tried to kill themselves, hurt other kids, or were just a huge pain in the ass.

Shit, DID she say that?

Or was Mr. Poore just laying it on?

"I 3; I won't tell ANYONE, sir!" Scott said, looking at the tape in his hot little hand. He rubbed at his head and nape. "My mom's gonna love you, though," he admitted.

That was it, hit 'em where they live. I figured he'd watch it tonight. And I could only imagine what his mom would say about his hair! She'd probably bring Mr. Poore a cake, or something for it!

"Off with you then, and feel free to come over and work out at 9, or swim at 2? It won't be summer forever, you know?"

Scott just nodded and went into the garage for his bike.

"HOLY HELL!" He yelled.

"I think he just saw the car," Canyon nodded.

"Would you like to go for a ride sometime?" Mr. Poore called after him. "We may take in a movie this week – that awful new thing about some lunatic in a mask with a chainsaw?"

"Yes, sir!" Scott called back.

And then he was gone.

The garage door went down.

"Bathtime, boys," Mr. Poore smiled at us.

"Sir!" We both said, and off we went.

Chapter Thirteen
Houseguest

Jeffie comes to spend the week. Scott and the boys are taken to the movies. Benny thinks Jeffie is really weird, until Mr. Poore tells him the story – and his own boyhood story. Benny says something 'wrong' at bedtime.

(So, you're probably thinking – he sent Scott home? What the hell was he thinking? Well, if you paid attention, you'd find that Mr. Poore had Scott (metaphorically speaking) by the balls: he knew about the 'hot' hardware from Bob, which I had to think was a setup. After all, Mr. Poore and Bob were friends. He also had him on a guilt trip over me and Canyon, and the sex thing. He gave him a porno, after all, and invited him to that slasher movie we all wanted to see; to say nothing of riding in the Ferrari. He was giving him everything that Scott would like, you know.

Then he'd mentioned Evan.

Now THAT bothered me. Would Mr. Poore hurt Evan? I didn't think so, but then again, would I have ever believed how he'd treat me for those two weeks? And I still wasn't sure what was up with the flashing lights and how Canyon had said that they'd 'kinda' hypnotized me and Scott, when I'd seen that light that time it was used on him. Canyon just left it with something like "It's to help relax you."

And something was still nagging me about the Tyrone connection to the missing Ronnie T. King. Hell, talk about getting blindsided. I can't believe I didn't see it coming. Then again, maybe I did and just looked the other way?)

We went back to our routine on Monday. The only difference now was that Canyon seemed happier, more open, since he'd got me off with the dildo. We didn't do that every evening in free time, but we did it a few more times that week. We'd have probably done it more, but our schedule got messed up a couple more times.

Fortunately, Mr. Poore approved of it. It was even his idea.

We'd watched a porno Tuesday night, and this one involved a lot more oral sex between boys and eunuchs. The surprise at the end of it was when a young man, probably college age, I think, got in on it. I didn't know any of these boys in the films, though. Kim wasn't in them, just that first one. Then, at the very end of that one, the young man asked the castrated boy if he'd ever been fucked!

I had a drink at the time, and blew it all out my nose and choked!

Mr. Poore was pounding me on the back, telling me to cough it up, when the actors (actors?) just 3; DID IT! I didn't move for the rest of the film. Sure, I'd seen the gay parts of the other videos. But that was men and men, or boys and boys. I'd never seen a grown man do a boy, or eunuch, before! I was spluttering when it was over.

"But 3; but? He can't DO that! That's illegal, sir!"

"Yes, it is," Mr. Poore sighed, "But so are the videos you've been watching. So are some of the things that you two do every day, did you know that?"

I didn't know what to say.

"Benny, did it look like that man hurt the boy on the show?"

"No, sir."

"Didn't he ask him first, to do it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did the boy seem to like it?"

"Yes, sir," I had to say.

Well, he did!

"So where's the difference in you liking to use a dildo, or that boy preferring to have a real man use his penis?" Mr. Poore asked. "The ancient Greeks practiced man/boy love for a long time, you know. It's nothing new, and so long as it isn't forced 3; ?" He left it for me to decide.

"But that's 3; that was real SEX!" I said.

"So maybe we should try it?" Canyon suggested with a smile.

I looked at Mr. Poore, we got the nod, but I was really afraid he was going to ask to 3; do what the man did on the film.

He didn't, though.

That was the first night I got a blowjob.

From Canyon.

Of course, it was a safe bet HE couldn't fuck me – or anyone.

"But isn't what we do real sex?" Canyon asked me. "We both like it. Is it wrong?"

"No, but 3;" I said.

I saw a flash of light, and thought Mr. Poore might have taken a picture! Great, that would be just what we needed – pictures of Canyon blowing me! But he was just watching, like he was considering buying something expensive? I swear, he was writing notes on something! But I was distracted. It must have been that damn 'relax' signal, and I wondered – if you're hypnotized, and you know it, and know the signs, would it work?

I didn't think so.

"Benny, you wanna try what those boys did in the movie? You ever had your dick sucked?" He asked me again. He stopped with the dildo for a minute.

"I don't know," I told him, but the more he looked at me with that sad face of his, the more I wanted to try it. I was hard and so was he.

"It's not like you'll make a big mess like Scott," Mr. Poore commented. "Neither one of you shoots, you know."

So we did it.

I don't know what Mr. Poore was up to then. All I knew was that Canyon had his warm little mouth on my dick, and he was working on it like he'd done it before. I just laid there on the mat, and let him do it. I wanted to stop him, tell him it wasn't right, but it was so damn good 3;

And it was.

When he was done, he told me I was still 'dry.' Not surprised, seeing as how Mom had made sure I couldn't hit puberty. I wondered if I was going to have a 2" [5 cm] hard-on for the rest of my life, if she'd ruined me? And Mr. Poore still hadn't told me anything, if Dr. Kent had ever called him back.

I also gave Canyon the favor back. It took longer, too. He got hard, but he didn't get off exactly like he did with the dildo. I figured next time, he'd wanna do both at once. I thought I might want to, too.

But I couldn't stop thinking about that boy in the movie. He'd let a man fuck him! Granted, the boy was castrated, like Canyon, and it took a lot to get him off, but 3; a dildo was one thing. A plug was one thing. What the doctor did was a medical thing – but a real MAN?

Didn't it hurt that kid to have a dick that big put up his butt?

I asked at dinner that night about Dr. Kent.

"Sir, did the doctor ever call you back about me?" I asked. I was getting used to wine by then, too. That one glass didn't make me nearly as dizzy.

"Yes, he did, Benny, and it slipped my mind!" Mr. Poore said. "You're perfectly healthy, but you have almost no testosterone in your body. Those shots did just what they were intended to do, but the good news is, they DO wear off!"

I almost fell out of my chair in relief.

I'd eventually hit puberty then, if 3;

' 3; if you keep your balls,' I reminded myself.

Mr. Poore answered that next question before I could answer it. "Dr. Kent said that it could be a few more years, though, the dose was so high, and it's been going on for quite some time now. And even then, you might have some impairment and need booster hormone shots. You may even be sterile."

I felt like I'd been kicked.

Puberty, at 15? IF then?

"Well at least you won't make a mess like Scottie did," Canyon said, "That's was just 3; uncalled for!"

We had to laugh at that. True, it was a sticky, smelly mess when he got off and shot. I know – I'd been a target lately! That, and Scott was always griping about trying to hide the evidence from his mom.

I went to bed Tuesday night thinking about my balls. And Canyon. I might not see puberty on my own for almost two years, and the thought of getting shots like that kid at school, Kenny, did for diabetes freaked me out.

Then again, if I was sterile, which Mr. Poore and the doctor thought, what was the point? If I could get puberty out of a needle, what DID I need my balls for?

I had weird dreams that night about Canyon chasing me with a butcher knife and cutting my balls off. Then he didn't – my balls were still there. Then Jeffie was telling me to 'shorten up my dick' a little. It was shorter, then it wasn't, in the dream. Then Scott was there, telling me, "You're never gonna catch up, Benny! You'll be short and dry all your life!" He was laughing at me. "You'll never be able to shoot, or make babies!" Then Scott was getting off, making a mess. "No girl is ever gonna want you!"

"I WILL catch up!" I was yelling at him, but he was telling me that my balls weren't worth having. I tried to tell him that someone was coming after him – some man, but he was too busy jacking off.

"It's all your fault, Benny," he then told me, as some man I didn't know hit him over the head and dragged him off.

I guess I woke up yelling, because Mr. Poore was there, the lights were on, and he was holding me.

Canyon, blind and deaf to the room of course, didn't know.

But I didn't have a panic button like Canyon did.

So HOW did Mr. Poore know I was having a nightmare? And not just a nightmare-one of those 'scared out of your mind' nightmares!

Just like he knew we were at The Shack, or that I watched Scott jack off that one night?

He just held me, rubbed my back, told me I was OK, and let me cry. I was shaking, that much I remember, and he was carrying me out of the room.

"C'mon, son, I think you should sleep in my bed for the rest of the night," he told me. The last thing I remembered about that was him giving me a half of a very small tranquilizer, and that was it until 8.

I didn't get the usual wake-up Wednesday morning. I woke up blindfolded, but that was it. I could tell from the feel of the bed that I wasn't in mine. I guess it was a little late, because he carried me out, asking me if I was OK, and touching me here and there 3;

He put me down in the hall, the door closed, and he took the blindfold off and told me to go wash up for the day.

"You got to sleep in Father's bed, ALREADY?" Canyon exclaimed when I came down to breakfast.

"Benny had a bad nightmare, son," Mr. Poore told him, "That was all."

Canyon looked surprised. "Oh, OK," he said in that voice, you know, that says, 'I was thinking something else!' You know that voice, that face people make?

Thing was, I had no idea what he might have been thinking.

I was surprised when Scott came over on Wednesday afternoon to swim. He hung around, too, and that really surprised me. Then I remembered the promise of the movie. There was a show at 7, and it was 1½ hours or so, so Mr. Poore decided that 8:30 was close enough and we'd just eat out. He even let me and Canyon have a small popcorn and a small diet soda. Scott was all excited about getting to go in the Ferrari, too, and he never shut up the whole way there or back!

We got home around 9:30, which was late for bedtime, but Mr. Poore just said it was fine, that he wasn't that fond of Thursday anyway. No clue what that meant? Scott had told his mom he'd be home no later than 10, so I guess that got him off the hook for being invited to stay? After all, she WAS liable to call the cops if he was two minutes late.

Scott didn't seem as jumpy, either. I wondered if he'd just decided to trust Mr. Poore and keep his mouth shut? I couldn't help but think about the nightmare again, too. It had been so damn real.

I did get a little surprise after our bath, though.

As usual, when we were drying off, the plugs went back in. I thought mine was different, though. It felt bigger, made me feel 3; fuller.

"This is the next size up, Benny," Mr. Poore told me. "Do you like it?"

I was hard again, since my dick had had the day off, and the plug was touching my prostate a lot harder than the one I'd got used to.

"This one's going to keep you in a more stimulated state," he told me. "Maybe even get your systems down there working better?"

"I 3; I hope so," I said, finding that walking felt different. It rubbed more than the other one did, and the burn inside was more. I wanted to get off right then and there, but it was time for bed. No chance of it until free time on Friday night.

On Friday morning, I got another surprise. My weights were increased by two pounds [2¼ kg] each, so now I was carrying an extra 28 lbs [12½ kg] of weight. I got weighed while Mr. Poore was filling them, too, and I'd gained another 2 lbs [2¼ kg]. But I didn't look like it?

"Muscle, Benny," Canyon told me, and he kissed me, then flexed his biceps at me. "It weighs more!"

OK, Canyon wasn't the Incredulous Hulk or anything. I mean, he was a eunuch. He'd never be like a WWF star, or built like his dad, but he was built for a kid. He was lean and hard, and that was what I wanted, too. I wanted to look just like him.

JUST like him?

I'd been thinking about it more since Mr. Poore had told me that I wouldn't hit puberty for another two years. I was almost 13. Hell, by 15, every other boy in school would have a bigger dick and hair and muscles.

But not me.

I could only imagine the teasing in the showers after gym class.

'If you think that'd be teasing, what would they say if you DIDN'T have balls?' I had to keep asking myself. 'Maybe I can do school with Canyon instead, until then,' I answered myself. Good grief, I was talking to myself!

I was so keyed up by free time on Friday, thanks to that bigger plug and the more intense porno we watched, that I thought I'd explode by the time me and Canyon got around to doing anything! He'd just suggested I blow him first, while he was playing with a larger dildo than I'd used ,when I heard a phone ring somewhere.

"GET THAT, CANYON!" Mr. Poore yelled, and Canyon stuck his hand up under the desk by the kitchen door, where the voice message machine was, and touched something. It clicked, the drawer came open, and there was the phone!

"Hello? – He's in his office, I think on the other line, sir. Why? It did? Well that royally sucks, doesn't it, then? No, Joe, I'm sure it'll be just smashing – bring him right over. I mean, it was our week next week anyway? Right-o! No, I'm sure Benny will just adore him! They'll have a lot to talk about. Yes, he does. No, not yet. All right, then, Joe, we'll see you and Jeffie in a bit, sir? Smashing!"

Then he hung up.

"Joe's got called in on an accident on the freeway, and he doesn't want to leave Jeffie alone that long. He could be out all night, and Jeffie can't take care of himself yet, like we can. Joe's going to bring him here, since it was our week to babysit him anyhow, next week."

"Babysit?" I asked.

"Joe's schedule rotates. He's a second shift cop for a bit, and it's too hard on Jeffie to rotate his schedule. So while Joe's at work, Jeffie will stay here with us. I had to spend a week with Bob once when Father was out of town, did you know?"

I shook my head.

"Very little structure," Canyon said, like he didn't like it. "Bobbie gets spanked a lot, I'll wager. I can't believe Bob leaves him alone all morning, most days. I think I'd lock him in the basement, wouldn't you?"

I didn't know what to say.

"Bobbie's lazy," Canyon explained. "That's why he gets punished a lot and can't have shots, even though he's almost ready for college."

"I see!"

So even though Bobbie probably still had a dick, they weren't going to have him develop it? Didn't trust him at college? I thought of him locked in a chastity thing – on shots, horny, and not able to touch his growing dick. It made me hard.

"Now, what were we doing?" He looked at me, with my bobbing little dick. "Oh, right, wanting to get you off! Shouldn't we wait so Jeffie can play too?"

"WHAT?"

"Benny, just because he only has a little stub doesn't mean that he doesn't like to have fun, too." He looked at the dildo he'd picked out for me. "I think he'll like this one, too!"

OK 3; I guess I should have expected it. I mean, the nudism thing? The castration thing? I figured all of Mr. Poore's friends had pretty much the same lifestyle, but, it was still a surprise to think of kid like Jeffie using a dildo or getting a blowjob. I still wasn't used to Canyon's other friends having got some 3; stuff 3; cut off – and because they wanted to?

Hell, what KID at our age KNEW he did? And how could his dad, or whoever, just let him? I was thinking about it, yeah, but Canyon took a year to decide? And where'd he get the idea anyway? Mr. Poore had balls, after all?

I decided to ask him.

"Canyon, how'd you find out about castration?"

"Oh, Father knew a few castrated boys when he was our age, you see," Canyon explained it to me, "Always liked the way they looked, but his father always said 'no' to him. Wouldn't even consider it. I guess Grandfather was even more strict than he is, he says."

"What happened to him?

"To Grandfather? He died when Father was at University. I think Father proposing to that woman made him have a heart failure or something?" Canyon said.

"That 'woman' was my mom," I reminded him.

"Yes, well, bad call, what?" Canyon grinned. "Benny, did you think that me and my friends were the only little gaggle of eunuch boys in the world?" He was almost laughing, "Boys have been made into eunuchs since ancient Babylon, I read. It's nothing new!"

"You just don't see a lot of them around here, I guess," I told him, and I could just see it – Mr. Poore being raised like Canyon, only stricter? What kind of person had his Grandpa been, then? And how had HE raised his son – Mr. Poore? Like Canyon was being raised? But he hadn't let him get castrated, and Mr. Poore had wanted to back then, when he was a boy?

That was a hard one to figure out.

"You look like you're about to burst a vein, Benny," Canyon told me, "Honestly! It's just that now, it's very rare to have a boy castrated so he can be a slave, or sold, against his will. It's not like they're being shipped to Arabia to guard harems or something! That's all books, like '1001 Nights', you know?"

"What do you think happened to that missing kid, Canyon?" I asked. "You think someone grabbed him, and sold him?"

"Knowing the news about him, and his drug dealing parents? Wouldn't surprise me if THEY sold him for more cocaine," Canyon shook his head. "Unfit. I don't know how some people are allowed to have children!" He sounded upset. "We're lucky, you and me, you know. Father takes good care of us, and we'll be all set to do the same someday for some boys who need us. Just like he was."

I shivered.

'Us'? He'd said?

About then, the doorbell rang.

Canyon gave me a lift up to look in the peephole. It was Joe. In uniform.

Then Mr. Poore was there, and Jeffie nearly jumped on him!

"I'm sorry to impose, Martin," Joe said, and he turned back around, "What a mess! Semi overturned, pile up, about a dozen idiots slammed into him. I'll try and get back Saturday night for the party, OK?"

"Very good, Joe, no problem!" Mr. Poore waved to him, as he put Jeffie down. The bald boy pulled his oversize T-shirt off at once, and that was all he'd been wearing. His little stub looked rock hard, too, and he greeted us with hugs and kisses. He was very excited to be there. "Jeffie, is Uncle going to have to gag you?" Mr. Poore then asked him.

Jeffie went rigid. "No, sir!" He grinned.

Mr. Poore looked him over. "You're looking very, very fine, Jeffie," he told him, rubbing his bald head. "I've never seen a boy heal so quickly!"

Canyon moved closer to me and made a face. "Anything to get a catheter out faster, what?" He whispered.

"Thank you, Uncle Martin!" Jeffie said.

'Uncle Martin'? Or was that just how Jeffie called him?

Mr. Poore kissed his head then told us to run along and play. It wasn't near 8 yet, and since Jeffie didn't have a pool, he wanted to go swimming. I sighed, knowing that even if it was free time, and I asked, I doubted if I could get myself off. Canyon didn't seem bothered at all, though. I guess not having balls, even ones that weren't making him go into puberty, limited his 'want to' for sex?

We were wrestling around in the shallow end of the pool when Jeffie asked me, "You don't make a mess, like other boys with balls, do you, Benny?"

"No?" I told him, "Why?"

"Benny's balls aren't making that stuff yet, Jeffie," Canyon told him.

"Are you gonna get castrated, like us?" Jeffie asked me, and I didn't know what to say to him. He was such a happy little shit, I just didn't know?

"I 3; I have to think about it," I told him. "Canyon took a year, you know." Then I remembered something. "Jeffie, what party was your daddy talking about?"

Jeffie looked at Canyon like he was suddenly scared.

"It's a surprise," Canyon told me, "All we know is that there is one, sometime, for someone. Everyone's coming, here I think, but not sure. You know Father?"

A party? I wondered what THAT would do to our schedule? And yes, I knew 'Father' and his secrets.

"Benny, t'row me!" Jeffie was asking, and we did that for a while, tossing the smaller boy into the deeper end off our shoulders. He was a very good swimmer, too, so he must come over a lot, I thought?

I was heisting him up again to toss him, when he accidentally hit me in the balls with his heel. The pain was worse than I ever had when I got 'nutted' by Scott or someone, and I was thought I was going to puke. I couldn't uncurl, and Canyon had to pull me out of the water. Jeffie was all over me, apologizing and crying.

"C'mon, mate, walk if off," Canyon was encouraging me, "If you didn't have those bloody things, you'd not have this problem, now would you?"

"G-good p-point!" I gasped out.

If there was one word to describe Jeffie, it was 'weird'. OK, more like 'perverted.' Granted, he'd been found abandoned in a dumpster when he was like 5, so Joe said. How long he'd been living in it, on his own, I didn't know. But the kid was just flat-out 3; bizarre!

For one, he was always happy. He was always smiling and chattering unless Mr. Poore told him to shut up or threatened to gag him, or Canyon elbowed him in warning. He loved to talk, and he never stayed on one subject too long.

He also liked having his head shaved. Turned out, he'd had lice (and fleas) when Joe had found him, and that was the easiest way to get rid of them. He said he loved how it felt, and his daddy really liked it. I wondered if this had something to do with him getting the head of his dick cut off, too? Because daddy liked it? I didn't ask.

I was just shocked to find out he'd thought Canyon was the coolest person in the world when he'd met him, and since Canyon was castrated 3; well, you see where that went? How could a 5-6 year old make that decision? I was almost 13 and it scared the hell outta me!? Still, Canyon looked good 3;

Next, Jeffie was into bondage. I mean, his collar was a real collar. It was leather, thick, tall on his neck, and it had metal studs in it. I figured it weighed a ton, and you couldn't budge it, either. It could probably hold a mad pit bull. He'd also mentioned 'leg irons' when Joe and me had played that one night, and he'd handcuffed me. Jeffie asked me if I'd ever been 'wrapped up', and I didn't know what to say, so I said 'no'. Of course, he explained it between bites of food, and he ate fast.

"Like a mummy!" Jeffie laughed, "And you have to try and get loose!"

"Do you ever get loose?" I asked him.

"Once," he nodded, and Canyon nudged him. Jeffie squealed. He was extremely ticklish, too, and like it, it seemed. "This one time, I was wrapped up, and daddy tickled my feet until I peed!"

What do SAY to a kid like that?

"I 3; I had an accident once, and I had to wear a diaper," I told him, my face hot.

"I don't mind diapers," Jeffie told me.

One kid's punishment was another kid's reward?

"Sometimes you just gotta be punished," Jeffie added, and that was that. Yep, he was into it.

I didn't know what to say, but bathtime was sure different. Jeffie got strapped down to a bench, and Mr. Poore put a red ball gag in his mouth! "I think you could probably make 1.2 tonight, Jeffie," he told him, and the boy was struggling – but giggling, too. Then Mr. Poore started tickling him! He made him hold it for five minutes, then he made him stand there and try to hold his rinse, without a plug in him!

Jeffie struggled with it, but after two minutes, he leaked. When we were all cleaned out (inside), Jeffie got a swat across the butt with the paddle. His cheeks turned red at once, he sniffled and then looked at me.

The little shit was smiling!

OK, I was pretty used to having my butt washed out every night by then, but that was just – strange – to me. Did the kid like being tortured? He'd looked like he'd pull a muscle trying to get loose, and now he was grinning from pierced ear to ear about being spanked?

"One boy's torment is another boy's delight," Canyon told me, when Jeffie was taken to the barber chair after we were all cleaned out.

I was right, I guessed.

Mr. Poore neatly lathered Jeffie's head, and shaved him with a wicked looking straight razor. Of course, Jeffie was strapped in tight, and he loved it. Then it was time for our 'outside' bath.

"And no fooling around, get clean, and off to bed," Mr. Poore told us. It looked like I was going to stay frustrated until 6 tomorrow. "Canyon, you sleep in my bed tonight," he added, and Canyon was thrilled.

"Awww," Jeffie whined, which got him a good slap to the butt by hand. "OW!"

But he was grinning.

"No whining, and don't try to make me hit you again!" Mr. Poore teased him. So we bathed, got replugged, and put to bed. I was freaking out to see that Jeffie's plug was the same size as mine, and he was smaller than me!

I got my own panic button that night. It was brand new, and built into a small black leather glove, so all I had to do was push the button with my thumb. Jeffie was thrilled that I got to put him in Canyon's bed, and once he was immobilized, Canyon tickled his bare feet. Jeffie squealed and struggled.

"Don't you dare pee my bed, either!" He warned him. Then it was the blindfold, headphones, and even the ball gag again. But Jeffie got Canyon's panic button, too.

It was my turn next, and after all the hugs and goodnight kisses, Mr. Poore told me, "You have to excuse Jeffie. He's had a very hard life, and he's just now starting to learn how to enjoy things. There's nothing wrong with feeling good, Benny, even if someone else thinks it's strange. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, sir!" I said.

"You're bothered that Jeffie seems to like being punished?"

"Yes, sir."

He then sent Canyon on up to his room, and told him to get ready for bed.

Canyon scampered after giving me one more goodnight kiss, and he was really smiling. He must have loved being allowed to sleep with his father.

"Jeffie needs lots of love and attention, Benny. Remember that. Just like you did when you got here. He may have been at this longer than you, but he's also younger and much more traumatized. You saw him eating so fast? He's scared that what he's got will be taken away from him someday."

"Sir?"

Mr. Poore sighed. "Jeffery was pretty much a wild animal when Joe found him," he explained, in his 'teacher voice'. "He coaxed him out of the dumpster with food, and it took weeks to get him to trust him. When he gained more control of language, beyond one-word answers, he told Joe he'd been eating out of the food court dumpsters all summer long. We don't know how long he'd been hiding in there, and Joe never was able to trace his parents' identities. Probably off the books, because they were into drugs, or something worse." He sighed, "We don't even know who Jeffie really is, or if that's his name. He just used to respond to 'boy'."

That made me want to cry. I didn't want to know how he'd survived the winter.

"I hope that missing kid in Leavitstown is OK," I said, and I don't know why I said it. Maybe it was the drug-addict parents thing, or how upset I was over Jeffie's backstory? I don't know, but I'd said it out loud. "What kinda life that kid musta had? Did you read it, sir? In the paper?"

"Yes, son, I saw it when you came over. You had it on you, remember? You're really upset over that, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir. I bet they didn't take care of him too good."

"They did not," Mr. Poore nodded, and I wondered how he could be so sure. "Not like we take care of our boys," he kissed me again, putting his hand on my stomach. "Benny, keep in mind that not every child who goes missing in the world ends up dead in a ditch somewhere, or found in a grave in the woods years later. Some of them vanish without a trace, and find themselves in a much, much better life."

"I hope so," I sighed, and yawned. I was always so sleepy after bathtime. I never fell asleep so fast as I did there. Usually I was awake half the night, up and down 3; mom never noticed. She had her 'mother's little helper' at night, like the song called it. I wondered what music I'd get tonight?

"I was lucky, you know. Benny, you should know, I was adopted. I think you need to know this. It was some years after the war, and my mother had died having me. My father was killed in an accident at the mine where he worked, and I was on my own – much like you were before we found you. I was lucky enough to be able to go to school and not have to work, you see, I was very young, younger than Jeffie there, and the teacher looked after me sometimes." He reached over and tickled Jeffie's ribs. "He wasn't asleep yet!" Mr.Poore laughed. "Where was I?"

"Little, and an orphan?" I said.

"Yes, yes! So you know what I did?" I shook my head. "I just started walking. I didn't want to be put in an institution, you see. Monstrous places, beastly, really. The war had taken a toll on everyone, though, and not everyone and everything had recovered yet, even though it had been years. Remote areas like ours were hit the worst, I think. I was only lucky in the fact that a wonderful man took me in when he saw me hitching along the road to London."

"He took you in, sir?"

Mr. Poore nodded, and there were tears in his eyes. I wondered how he must have felt, if Canyon had said that his Grandfather – he'd never met – was even stricter than Mr. Poore was?

"He took me in, a boy no one else wanted, hardly into primary school even! And he raised me and loved me like a son. I made a vow that if I ever had sons, I would raise them with all the love and care that I was given. Every boy should be so lucky. One can only pray that those who are never seen again are so fortunate as I was."

"Maybe someone like your dad found Ronnie," I guessed. I hoped.

Mr. Poore was crying by then, and I wanted to hug him.

But I was strapped in for the night.

"I 3; I'd hug you, sir, but?"

"Oh, Benny!" He wiped his face on my blanket, "What a beautiful thing to say! Do you have ANY comprehension of how proud of you I am? How much we love you?"

I'd never seen Mom get like that before, and I didn't know what to do. Usually, she was just out of it, or pissed off. And even though I was being 'abused', looking back, I know I was dreading going home. More than anything, I wanted to hug him and tell him it was OK, just like he'd done me the night before when I'd had the nightmare.

I guessed my life hadn't been so bad so far after all 3; even if Mom WAS trying to zap my balls with drugs and hated men. At least we didn't live in a dumpster and I wasn't named 'Boy.' At least I wasn't dirty and neglected over my folks abusing drugs.

"I love you, too, sir," I told him, and that was all I could do. "I 3; I don't wanna go home Monday! PLEASE, can I come back, just a couple hours to see you?"

THERE, it was out. I'd said it to him.

He leaned down and kissed me again, held me, and I was suddenly so jealous of Canyon for having had twelve years of that already.

Twelve years of hugs, kissed, touches, being close, feeling a warm body next to yours, having plenty of good food, and someone who knew you were there. More than that – someone who took CARE of you? Even he did punish you sometimes?

And I only got two weeks.

I was sniffling by then.

It didn't matter that I'd never seen any of my other friends' folks act like Mr. Poore. I'd never seen Mr. Simonson hug Scott, even. But you just figure, you know, that kids with parents are being loved and taken care of? At least I did.

But the proof that I was wrong was right in the bed next to me.

And out there, somewhere – just a photo in the newspaper.

Ronnie 3; Tyrone?

An anagram.

Nothing more.

I wished it was more, though.

For HIS sake.

I was hoping that that Ronnie kid at least had a warm, dry bed.

Mr. Poore held me, touched me, kissed me for a while. I was still sleepy, but I was also still hard and frustrated. He never touched my dick, though. He did get a Kleenix and make me blow my nose!

When he put the blindfold on me, it didn't bother me a bit. He covered me up, tucked me, and I knew I was warm and safe. Then his hands were gone.

"Dad, wait!" I said, when he went to put the headphones on me, "C-can I listen to that piano and organ stuff you were playing in your office the other day?"

"What did you just SAY?!" He asked me, and he sounded 3; sharp. Like I was in trouble. After all, I never got to pick my night music.

"The classical, yeah, that's the name of it, sir! The record you bought for YOU last week? Can I listen to that, sir?" I thought I was in bad trouble.

"No, before that, what did you call me?" Mr. Poore repeated, softer this time. "When you asked me to wait, Benny?"

I gasped.

I'd called him 'Dad.'

Not 'Father,' like Canyon did -

"Dad."

I didn't correct myself.

It was a word I'd never said to anyone before. I'd never had one.

And I liked the sound of it.

I liked it too much to take it back and say 'sir' again.

"I said, 'Dad, can I listen to YOUR record, sir'?"

"Yes, son," He then said, and before the world went quiet for a minute, I thought I heard him cry.

His hands moved over me again, head to toes, one more time.

One more goodnight kiss, rough whiskers on my smooth face.

Then the music started.

I felt so all alone, and almost squeezed the panic button.

Chapter Fourteen

There's a big crisis Saturday night before the planned party. Ben finds out the truth – or some of it. Most of it. He thinks. But what about the Scott-problem?

OK, so Jeffie was weird.

But after Mr. Poore's talk, I understood him a lot more. I didn't really understand the thing about liking to be punished, since being punished embarrassed me and made me feel like I failed. I also didn't understand how or why I was doing what I was. I guess it was because I had permission, it was something very dangerous, and it just felt so damn good. But aren't all boys that age interested in 'dirty stuff'?

Besides, I was getting attention. And love.

And I only had two days of it left.

I figured I could always come over and visit, though.

I got woke up Saturday morning, same as always – a slap across the butt. I was awake at once and waiting to be let loose. But instead of being freed from the bed like usual, I felt hands on me. Then whiskers. Hot breath, all around my neck and moving down until those whiskers tickled just under my belly button. The last kiss couldn't have been far from my dick; I felt those whiskers brush it. I was hard as hell, but nothing happened. Nothing other than hugs and kisses and just being held. It was such a relief, and I was glad I'd slept all night without waking up. I know I'd have pushed the panic button.

He only said one word: "Son," whispered in my ear.

"Dad?" I whispered back.

And there was no correction of that error.

If it was an error.

It didn't feel like one to me.

I had all I needed right there. I was fine again. I could have sat there all day like that.

But I had to pee.

So did Jeffie. Once free, he was up and dancing and holding his little stub. Canyon looked very relieved to see that his bed was dry. He also had that dumb grin on his face again.

"Uncle! I gotta PEE!" Jeffie was whining, and I had no idea if they were playing or not.

"Perhaps we should see how long you can hold it?" Mr. Poore suggested.

Jeffie's eyes bugged out, but he didn't move.

"Father, please, make him stand in the bathroom?" Canyon asked.

Mr. Poore laughed and made Jeffie go stand in the bathtub. I could tell they were playing then.

"Hands behind your back, turn around," Mr. Poore told Jeffie. Canyon jerked a finger at me to come watch.

Mr. Poore then put some padded cuffs on Jeffie's wrists, not unlike my weight cuffs. These were snug, though, thinner, and taller. They also locked, so that Jeffie's hands were held behind his back by cuffs at least 6" [15 cm] tall. They weren't at his waist either – a small strap was on the cuffs, hooked to his collar, pulling them up the middle of his back so his elbows stuck out. "Ow, ow, ow," he was whining, and Mr. Poore let his hands down a bit. "Good!"

"Jeffie, if you lose control of your bladder before the boys are done getting ready to come and eat, you will wear those cuffs until naptime. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Uncle, sir," he grinned.

We'd just got done combing our hair when Jeffie said, "Oh, damn!"

He hadn't made it.

Canyon laughed and sprayed him off with hot water, then patted him dry. At least Jeffie didn't have to comb his hair.

When we came down to breakfast, Mr. Poore just shook his head. "He did that on purpose, you know," he told us.

"I'm not sure, Father," Canyon shook his head. "He was trying very hard."

I didn't know what to say.

"Dad, how's he gonna eat?" I had to ask.

I said it without thinking.

I could have raped a sheep on the table and got a similar reaction.

Mr. Poore put his hand on the side of my head. "He'll manage," he smiled at me.

"Just excellent, Benny!" Canyon kissed me.

"Wow, new playmate!" Jeffie smiled. I mean, it was about all he could do, but fidget with his cuffs. He wasn't having much luck getting out of them. Houdini he wasn't.

He managed to eat, all right. He had to eat off his plate like a dog, and I got a nod to wipe his face off when he was done. And even though it was Saturday and we had company, we still had to work out.

Jeffie got to do sit-ups, leg presses, and the treadmill, since he couldn't use his arms. With my extra weights, I was kinda tired when it was time for class and got a half a muscle pill.

I figured we'd talk about sex again, but it was back to studying Spanish stuff. I wondered if we were going to try and make adobe bricks before too long? It wouldn't surprise me. Canyon knew how to do everything else, I thought. Jeffie asked a lot of questions, and he only got the stick once in class. I think he was trying to when he started arguing about where Columbus had landed here. He thought it was Plymouth Rock, not the Indies, and had him mixed up with the Pilgrims.

"That was so wet," Canyon sighed on the way to lunch. "Couldn't you think of something better, Jeffery?"

Jeffie just grinned when I told him about the red streak across his butt.

We had sub sandwiches for lunch, which was surprising that we were given so much bread. I decided to save time and offered to hold Jeffie's for him. I mean, how was he supposed to eat it with no hands? Our next workout turned out to be cleaning up my yard, since mom was due home Monday morning and the utilities would come back on. I saw that Bob had rigged the AC to run off an extension cord to Mr. Poore's house. If not, it would have been so hot in there it probably would have caught fire on its own.

I also got to teach Canyon how to use the power mower. He didn't like the steel-toed boots, but he did like running over things to chop them up. "Bloody brilliant!" He just crowed, as he went right through a clump of that stupid ornamental grass. I didn't bother to stop him. Now if he could only get that stupid bush mowed down 3;

Of course Jeffie couldn't do much, and since the Smiths were home, we had to wear shorts. Jeffie's job mainly was sitting on Mr. Poore's lap, in the shade, and studying a book of some kind. It looked painful, and he kept making funny faces. Mr. Poore yelled at Mr. Smith once, and asked him to keep his cat in. He said he'd heard of a new loose dog in the area. I wondered what the heck he was talking about? Mr. Smith ran right in at once.

I didn't like the idea of a dog getting Kitty. Original, huh? Yeah 3; but Kitty always stopped to see me on those nights I couldn't sleep and would sit out on the patio. Of course, we couldn't have a cat.

Once we were safely back in Canyon's yard, I de-pants'd Jeffie. "Dad, his shorts are torn?" I said. There was a slit in the back seam of them.

Canyon and Jeffie both just laughed. Mr. Poore took the shorts, and ours, and just shook his head.

It was clouding up, so sunning was pretty much out. You could see the rain coming.

'Great,' I thought, 'Last day is gonna be a rainout.' We did our Spanish lessons, as usual, and just laid around until swim time. I wondered when Jeffie was supposed to get his fighting lessons?

Swimming was no problem for Jeffie, though. He did it like a fish, and he could hold his breath, too. I kept an eye on the rope, just in case we had to pull him out.

When it was time to go in and have the shakes and naps, we were all ready for it. Mr. Poore seemed very busy. He was on the phone with someone, telling them to bring all sorts of stuff. I guess that it was for the party Joe had mentioned on his way out? Catering? Must be.

"Boys, our friends will be arriving around five, so it's going to be a short nap. Get to it."

We did that.

I got woke up around 5 by Mr. Poore's voice. He was on the phone again, and he was pissed.

"Oh, he DID, did HE?" Mr. Poore was saying. "Left a message at the office for you? I suppose that's a first for you, isn't it, Lois?"

It was Mom!

But she never called if she was gone on a work trip?

"Trust me, Lois, you don't want to play this game with me! What? I did NOTHING to YOUR son that I wouldn't have allowed Canyon! He told you that? Well, yes, but Benny wanted it. Now you just 3; I'll have you know he LIKES the haircut!

"Oh, Lois, he's been swimming naked and having a wank with that detestable Scott boy for months! Well, I wasn't the one loading him up on Depo, now was I? I wonder what your boss would think of you embezzling drugs? What ELSE have you given him?"

I couldn't believe it! He was arguing with my mom!

Scott had called her.

I didn't move or open my eyes. I hoped Canyon and Jeffie wouldn't, either. I had to hear this.

"Go ahead and call the police, darling," he said in that 'smooth it over voice'. "You'll find that it's a load of paperwork, and you'll be home and back on the job, ignoring your son, before anyone even shows up! What? Oh bloody hell, woman, you don't even FEED him! I'm conditioning him, is what I'm doing, before YOU turn him into a fat, lazy eunuch!"

What the hell?

Scott had told Mom something. God, what had he told her!?

"If it's money you want, Lois, money I've got! You're out of your league here! I can't believe I ever agreed to let you keep one of 3;"

I just laid there, wondering what Scott had done.

He's ruined it, I thought, I just knew he'd told her everything. The cops would be coming for us any minute!

And if I found out he had, so help me, I was gonna get him for it! I'd make him sorry he ever made fun of me!

"Then rent a car to get home! Fine. Your utilities will come on Monday morning, and we're cooling the house down now. I'll have Bob put your system back on your house's controls, yes. Yes, the yard is lovely, Lois! God's sake, aren't you going to ask to talk to Benjamin? If it's so bad here, then why don't you want to ask HIM?"

I knew he was mad then, but not at me.

"Of course you do. Right. He'll be home when we see you pull in Monday morning, then. Sunday night? Well that's just as good, Lois. I can send him home then, but you won't have lights. Oh, you have an oil lamp? How quaint. What? How DARE you? It'll break Canyon's little heart, you know!"

The only thing I could think of that would make him say that was if I was grounded from coming back over.

She didn't want me seeing Canyon anymore?

DAMN YOU, SCOTT, WHAT DID YOU SAY?

"Fine, Sunday night. Be here before 9, Lois, it's his bedtime. Well at least I offer STRUCTURE!" Mr. Poore yelled, and threw the phone.

He came into the room.

"I'm sorry, boys," He said in a low voice. "Benny, you're going home tomorrow night, but we're not going to let that ruin the party. Everyone is off tomorrow, so all of Canyon's friends are coming over. It was sort of planned for everyone to get know you, Benny."

"And 3; and now 3; this is the only time they'll s-see me?" I was almost crying.

Mr. Poore nodded, then sort of bobbed his head. "Perhaps. Your mother has no idea what she's doing. Benny, I want you to call Scott. Tell him to meet you at The Shack." He handed me back my shorts. "Play dumb, don't let him know that you know that she's called."

"Dad, he c-called her, didn't he, sir?" I mumbled.

"Yes."

"Wh-what did he tell her?"

"Too much," Mr. Poore said.

"I'll kill him myself," Canyon said in a flat voice, and I was sure he could do it. You know how they talk about seeing it wrote on your face? Well, Canyon's was. It was scary.

Jeffie was just sitting there sniffling. Mr. Poore freed his hands and hugged him. "I don' wan' Benny to go!" He whined.

"He won't, if I have MY way," Mr. Poore told him. "And Martin Poore has yet to NOT get his way! Benjamin," he changed tones, "Call Scott and tell him you've run away. Have him meet you at The Shack. Then tell him you have to get something from your house, but don't go in! Just get him in the yard. Make something up, tell him you need somewhere to hide, something!"

"Then what, sir?"

"Then leave it to me," Mr. Poore said, and I got the worst chills ever. I'd never seen THAT look on his face. "We may yet be able to salvage this mess!"

Scott had to sneak out, since he was grounded for something again. He met me at The Shack, about ten minutes after I got there. As mad as I was, I did like I was told. Turned out, he'd called my mom and told her about the nudity thing, the earrings, the haircut, and the pornos, and the enema. He also mentioned the sex between us boys, and thought that Mr. Poore might be molesting me, too.

What he hadn't done was tell HIS parents.

"Your mom said to keep quiet until she gets back and gets the police!" Scott said, "Seriously!"

"Good, because I know where Ronnie is," I told Scott, as I bought us a sack of junk that I had no plans to eat.

"Where?"

"In the basement," I whispered to him. "They're gonna put him in a box and take him to the airport tomorrow! Some guy in Abu Dhabi bought him!"

Scott turned whiter than a ghost. I had no fuckin' clue where that place was, but it sure sounded good! He bought it.

"I knew it! He grabs boys and sells 'em! I bet he cut Canyon's balls off, so he could sell him for MORE money!" Scott gasped. He was letting his imagination go, and I let him.

"Man, we gotta get Ronnie out, though! By the time Mom gets back, they'll be gone!" I said, pouring it on thick.

"We can call the cops!" Scott said.

"You forgot about Joe, the mall cop?" I told him. "He'll catch the calls and hide it. HIS kid is there now, at Canyon's place."

"HE has a kid?" Scott gasped.

"Nabbed him from the mall," I said. Well, it wasn't a lie, was it?

"Holy shit, Ben, you were right all along! And I didn't believe you! You stayed there to figure all this out?"

I nodded.

"That's heavy, dude. I swear, I'll never make fun of you again! You'll get a medal for this, or something!"

"Something," I nodded. "Listen, I'm gonna hide in the garage at my house. He'll NEVER look there! I need you come help me block the back door up, then you sneak out the window. Go home, and DON'T tell your mom until mine gets back with real State cops!"

He bought it – all of it.

That was Scott for you.

"Lemme go pee first," I told him, and when I went in the bathroom, I got the biggest surprise yet.

"BENNY?" Mr. Poore's voice whispered.

It was coming from my collar.

And I knew.

I knew how he'd known every move we'd made, where we were, and what we'd said.

And I did not care.

"Sir?" I whispered. "The c-collar, it's a bug?"

"Very good, son, and I'm so sorry! But I had to be able to follow you! I had to know what you were saying to whom, and now it's clear that Scott knows too much. You see now what can happen if word of 3; us 3; gets out?"

"Sir!" I said.

"Just get him in the garage, Benny, we'll do the rest," he told me.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"And I love YOU, son."

It was too much right then.

I had to stay in there and cry for a while, until Scott came to get me. It wasn't fake either. I had no clue about Ronnie, and right then, I couldn't have cared less. All I cared about was that I was never going to see Canyon again, I was going back home, probably be in therapy for a year, if not sent to The Blanken Center or rehab or something, and that the closest thing I had to a dad – the only man who loved me – was going to jail. Canyon would be put in foster care somewhere. I almost couldn't stand it.

I wanted to hit Scott so bad then, for running his damn mouth! Why couldn't HE just go along with it? Why did he have to ruin EVERYTHING for me? Just because he COULD?

We ditched our bikes and some of the food behind The Shack and walked home, cutting through the woods and other peoples' yards. We came across the road through the big drainpipe on the other side of Smiths', and sneaked around the hedges into my garage. It was open.

Of course it was. Mr. Poore had the keys.

I went in first, talking.

"C'mon, Scott, we're clear!"

"Kinda dark?" Scott whispered.

"Breakers are off, power's out until Monday morning," I told him.

I got in a ways, and Scott closed the door behind him. Something moved in the corner, and the next thing I knew, Mr. Poore had Scott in a choke hold. Sleeper hold. Some wrestling move I was no good at. He had a white rag over Scott's face, and it took like two seconds for Scott to pass out.

"Help me strip him," Mr. Poore told me.

We left his clothes by mom's car. All he had on was his watch.

"I KNEW he'd do this, the lying little shit!" Mr. Poore said.

Mr. Poore put him a big black garbage bag and slung him over his shoulder. Even if the Smiths saw, what would they see? Laundry? Trash?

"You hide in here, Benny, and wait for Bob. No one must see you come back over to our house!"

"Yes, sir!" I said.

Bob showed up a few minutes later. I heard his truck pull in, and then him making a show of servicing the AC unit. Perfect cover! Then Bobbie came in. He put me in a wheelbarrow, covered me with an old blanket they used to lay on for working, and wheeled me back over to Mr. Poore's.

"Where is he?" I asked, once I was back inside.

"Where is who?" Mr. Poore grinned at me.

Sitting at the table were Dr. Kent, his boy Mickey, Mr. Poore, Joe, Sam from the wedding store, and two other guys I didn't know. They were all dressed, too.

"Benny, I need your shorts," Bobbie told me.

I pulled them off without thinking about it. I didn't care if everyone saw me naked. I was just glad to be back. I knew Mr. Poore had a plan, and I didn't really care what it was.

Maybe we'd take off to Spain? Was that why we'd studied it?

(Mickey was about Bobbie's age, remember, and about to head to college, too?)

"Coming along nicely, isn't he?" Dr. Kent said. He handed a vial of blood to Bobbie, who left with it and my shorts to go back and help Bob.

What did he need with blood? Least, I thought it was blood. It looked like one of those things he filled up when he'd took some of mine.

"Benny, sit down. There are some truths that it is time for you to know," Mr. Poore told me.

He shoved his old college yearbook at me.

"I'll go see to the kids," Joe offered, and left. He was still in uniform, and had scared me for just a minute.

"I have work to prepare, come along, Mickey," Dr. Kent nodded, and he left with Joe.

That left just the two of us.

"Benny, you knew I was in college, in England, with your mother?" Mr. Poore said.

I nodded. It was hard to believe, but I knew it. I'd seen the pictures.

"And you know I wanted to marry her?"

"And she said no," I sighed. "Dumb."

"Yes. Very."

I nodded again, and he took me on his lap. It was odd, sitting there with him dressed.

"Benny, it's time you knew the whole story. Did you ever hear your mother say she had a year off, between her Junior and Senior years?"

I nodded. Sometimes, when she was half-lit or just pissed, she'd say things. That was one of them.

"We had a relationship," Mr. Poore said, holding me tight. "You see, I told you my father was strict? My adopted father? He wanted me to experience the world, but he never thought I'd fall in love and ask a girl to marry me. The shock of it did him in, I suppose?"

"Sir?"

"Benny, sometimes a man can like both men and women. It's called being 'bisexual'. You see, I'd never been with a woman before. Your mother was my first crush, my first date, and after two years, I knew I wanted her." He sighed again. "She wanted more, though."

"You 3; you grew up like Canyon, sir?" I asked.

He nodded.

"But unlike Canyon, as you can see, I was left intact. I believe he told you a little about our, shall we say, circle of friends?"

Of course he knew. My collar was a bug. He knew every word I'd said since he'd put it on me. I should have been mad, or scared, but I wasn't. It made me feel safer – like he cared that much.

"I was raised somewhat chaste," Mr. Poore went on, "I never even got to touch my penis, after I was adopted, until I was in college. Father always said the chastity device would come off when I was on my way to taking care of myself, and I could be trusted. Well, when I was finally let loose, the first thing I did was, erm, DO IT with your mother!"

That didn't really surprise me. After all, he'd wanted to marry her?

"I suppose I didn't know what I was doing, really, Benny. Just because I thought I was in love with a girl. I wanted her to marry me, of course. Then I figured, since I was 'out and about freely', and I LIKED sex, of course!" He laughed, "It was something new and exciting, sex with a woman! We'd have sex, and if she got pregnant, so much the better! Then she'd HAVE to marry me!"

I started thinking, trying to remember things I'd heard.

I turned around and looked at the pictures of me and Canyon on the wall. Why did he hang up my pictures from school if he only wanted to copy them? He didn't want to copy them: He planned to keep them.

He planned to keep ME.

I thought I knew why.

"But when you got Mom pregnant, she turned down your proposal? She never wore the earrings." I touched my ears.

"She never wore this either, I thought she'd have sold it," Mr. Poore said, as he pulled a ring from his pocket. It had the biggest rock in it I'd ever seen! "I'm going to have Sam call up one of his friends and have this stone set in a man's ring for you," he told me. "But there's more."

"I 3; I thought there was, Dad 3; sir," I said.

"No, don't correct yourself, Benny. I like it when you say that."

He got us some tea, with a lemon in it. I guess I had this look on my face that said I had something to say, because he nodded at me.

"You said there was money. I guess your dad was doing OK, and Mom was already on her own?" He nodded again. "So you were both in college, you were in love, and she got pregnant?"

"I think I said that?"

"Yes, sir, but you said you couldn't believe you 'let her keep one'." I looked at the pictures of us again. Me and Canyon. Same haircuts. Same eyes. Same skin tone. "She was pregnant with twins, wasn't she? She was pregnant with me and Canyon?"

Silence.

"You're a brilliant boy, Benny," Mr. Poore smiled at me, and his face was sad. It made me hurt inside. "But what ended our relationship for good and all was when she told me she wanted an abortion. I was devastated, you see, and in that moment, all of my love for HER died. She was carrying my children, the doctor had guessed, and she wanted to abort them! Abort YOU! Dangerous, of course, back then, but we had the money: I from my Father, she from her parents' estate. I begged her, I offered her anything, not to murder the two of you before you could be born! I offered to take you both, pay all the bills, pay her tuition. I'd take you both and go away, so she'd never have to deal with children. In the end, I did all of that. But she wanted more, once she saw you both."

"She wanted to keep one of us?" I asked.

Mr. Poore nodded.

"You're not identical, Benny, although then it was hard to tell. You looked alike as babies, and I was so very proud. It was just random chance that the nurse handed one of you to me."

"Canyon." I said.

"Canyon," He agreed. "Papers were signed. He became Canyon Poore, mother deceased – not my original name, you see, but by then, it was my identity. The surname I'd had, the boy I'd been, was long gone. You became Benjamin Pence, father unknown, with her real name, and she took you. Ironic, isn't it? 'Pence' is a British penny, and I was 'Poore'?"

I didn't know what to do.

I'd been right.

It was no wonder Canyon called me his brother, and why it made Mr. Poore cry when I called him 'dad'. They'd known all along.

He was my real father.

"Sir, how did you find me?" I had to know. I just sat there, too stunned to move.

"Benny, do you remember when you saw the tan marks around Kim's neck, at the mall? And he saw yours? That's how you knew each other. I had the same marks as a boy, you see. I had a finely woven necklace, like yours, until I was a college Sophomore. The weave causes the tan marks to look like the Chinese characters for the words 'slave, boy, control, and eunuch.'

"Wow," I looked down at my feet. "I thought there was something to it, sir."

"It's just a mark, Benny," he told me, "I'm sure there are others out there in our little 'society' that DO make slaves of their boys, but Canyon is no slave, as you can see. And you won't be, either."

"How 3; how many are there?" I had to know.

"No one knows, Benny. It's all very deeply underground, this culture I was adopted into by my new father.

"I was very unhappy after college, though. I hired nannies, and I could – Father was very well off." I thought of the Ferrari in the garage. Yep, very 'well off'. "We both graduated, but my love for your mother was dead. I wanted very much to be a part of your life, but then one day, no one answered the phone. The flat was deserted, the bank account where I'd put money to save your lives – empty. And she was gone. Gone with you.

"I was wandering a shopping center one day with Canyon. I think he might have been just one year old 3;"

I was just staring at him. It was some story!

"Then I saw this young boy watching us. He might have been all of 7 or 8 years old. He had your haircut, you see? But he was so cute, you see, and then I noticed the tan marks on his neck."

"Like you had, when you were little?"

Mr. Poore – Dad – nodded.

"I asked him to fetch his father, and I told him I'd had marks like that once myself. That was when I met Frederick."

"Of Thomas & Fredericks Law Firm, sir?"

"Frederick Fredericks, yes," Mr. Poore smiled.

OK, any parent who does that go a kid needs to be shot, OK? How many Thomas Thomas's are there out there? Or William Williams's? That's just sick!

"You're very good, Benny, did you know that? Of course, I know all about all the spying you were doing since we met up, you know?" He touched my collar. "Tell me, were you really trying to set me up? Did you really think I'd kidnapped a boy?"

I just stared at him.

"Didn't we just do that to Scott?" I had to ask.

He laughed. "'WE'! Of course WE did! Why, Benny, my boy, you're a criminal! You're an accessory!"

He sounded proud of me. Then he went back to the story.

"Father had acquaintances, you see. Just like I do. As I told you, I was raised very much like I am raising Canyon."

I kinda held up my hand. He nodded at me.

"Did you 3; did you have sex with other boys? Or c-castrated boys?" I had to ask.

"Yes, I did, Benny. As I said, I was bisexual. When I was your age, coming into my own sexuality, I couldn't have sex with girls, you see. I wasn't allowed access to my own genitals, remember? I learned to find pleasure with other boys, eunuchs, or other men. Just like MY adoptive father had. Just as his had. Some of them had wives, too, you see. So I knew all about women and what they liked – I just was never able to DO IT with them."

"So you learned it all, but weren't allowed to do THAT, sir?"

He nodded. "Pleasure is pleasure, Benny, and it is not the boy's place to question his father's methods. There was only one aspect of sex that I had yet to try, and well, we know how that turned out, don't we?"

I had to ask the next question. I just had to know.

"Did you let MEN do it to you?"

He nodded.

"But it wasn't what you're thinking, Benny. I can see it on your face. No one raped me, Benny. I was trained like Canyon has been, like you've been these last two weeks. All of your little playmates are similarly trained, even though not all of you share the same 3; interests."

I thought about Jeffie. That was true! Then I thought about Canyon. It was the first time I realized that he might be having sex, like the boys in the films, with men.

"You like what you and Canyon do?" Mr. Poore asked me. "You were scared at first, I know. So was I. But it feels good?"

"Yes, sir."

"So if it feels good, and you want to do it, why can't you do it? Because someone else 'out there' says it's wrong? If a boy likes to do it with girls, he should! If he likes to do it with other boys, he should! He just needs to be guided along the way, to see what he likes. For instance, Benny, you like having Canyon use a dildo on you? An artificial penis up your little bum? You liked what the doctor did to you?"

I felt my face getting hot.

"Yes, sir."

"And someday, you may find you like doing it with girls, too. If you don't, that's fine too!" Mr. Poore told me. "It's just unfortunate that we live in a world where everyone else who thinks he is 'normal' wants YOU to be just like them."

"So it's OK to like 3; both?" I had to ask.

He nodded again.

"Many more 'primitive' cultures, some to this day, even believe that a boy should NOT have anything to do with girls until he is of marriageable age, did you know?" I didn't know. "Those cultures know that the boy has sexual needs, though, and he is often provided with another boy – perhaps a slave – to fulfill those needs."

"Or a eunuch?" I asked.

Mr. Poore sighed. "That in itself is another long story, Benny, and one we can study in class further. You're wondering why Canyon decided to be castrated? Or why Jeffie has had the modifications that he has?"

"Yes, sir. Is it true that Canyon isn't really a boy anymore?"

"In some cultures, he would be viewed as non-male, a third sex, something unique. Some children are born that way, as well. The Hijra of India are a cult of eunuchs, Benny. They see them as another gender – not male."

"So it's not like I'm gay if I like it with a eunuch?"

"What IF you are gay, Benny?" He then turned more serious. "Who cares? If you find out later that you want to be a male, and you like sex with other males, what difference does it make, if it makes YOU happy?"

"But 3; but, dad," I said, trying to understand him, and I didn't. "Canyon's my BROTHER! Isn't that WRONG?"

"It's not like you can make an inbred baby, Benny," he smiled at me. "Now THAT would be wrong, if he were your sister! But then again, since your mother 3;" He shook his head. "This is probably all my fault, son, with what she did to you. I'm probably the reason she hates men in general." He sat down and put his head down on the table like we did in school sometimes. "I sold my son for a half-million pieces of silver," he mumbled, "Judas would have been proud."

"If she didn't wanna get knocked up, she should have been more careful 3; sir!" I said. Then I stopped. "You gave her ½ a million bucks back then to 3; keep me?"

He smiled at me again. "I paid her to NOT abort you. BUT, I did get Canyon out of the deal."

"Wonder where the money went?" I asked. Then I thought damn, how much money does he HAVE?

"Benny, a great deal has happened today," Mr. Poore changed the subject, "But for now, you're here. We're all going to have a little celebration tonight, have a good time, and we're not going to worry about what might come. You don't need to worry about Canyon and me, Benny. I always have a contingency plan. All you have to do is realize that when the party starts, bedtime is later, and it's all free time for you boys."

That made me wonder. If he was throwing out the schedule, what were we going to do? Would there be 3; sex? I mean, it was 'free time,' and me and Canyon were allowed to do that stuff.

I knew I wanted to get off, that was for sure!

I also wanted to beat the shit out of Scott.

"One more thing, sir?"

"Yes?"

"Why'd you leave England?" I had to ask.

"I wanted to travel, and I wanted Canyon to see more of the world. He was about six when we left. We went here and there, always meeting new people. One connection leading to another, you see. We visited America with Frederick, but Canyon was too small to remember it. Frederick had friends, they had friends, and I began developing my own network outside of the folks that I'd grown up with." He sighed. "I haven't seen some of them in ages."

"You had Mr. Fred start looking for me, didn't you, dad?" I asked.

Mr. Poore nodded. "And it took him almost six years to track you down. I'm not sure your mother recognized me at first, Benny. But when Fred told me that Leon had a house for sale, and right next to YOU! Why, it was just the wildest stroke of luck! I wanted so badly to see you, if even just that, should I not be able to know you."

He got up then and hugged me.

"Run along now, and go clean up. You'll find clothes in the bathroom. Everyone is going to be dressed, at first, until we get the caterers out of here!" He laughed.

I laughed too.

In spite of the 'Scott-problem', which I really didn't care about right then, I was happy. For all I cared, they could really ship Scott to Abu Dhabi and I wouldn't miss him. I'd send his ass 'postage due!'

Yep, that Saturday night, I was happy.

I'd found my dad.

Or he'd found me.

It didn't matter.

What did matter was that he was there, so was I, and he loved me – and I wasn't going to let anyone mess that up.

Not even Mom.

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