Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Lizard69
Title: Girlfriends
Part: Complete
Summary: Parts one through thirteen combined into a single story.

   This is a work of fiction.  If you have trouble with the boundary
between fact and fantasy, don't read it.  If the story codes following the
title freak you out, don't read it.  If I mis-coded drop me a note through
PM with what you think they should be.  Do not under any circumstances
forward this file to anyone that hasn't specifically requested it.  In case
you haven't figured it out yet this is intended as *adult* entertainment.
Do not allow it to be accessed by minors.  If you have inadvertently
downloaded it in a jurisdiction where such material isn't legal please
delete it immediately.  Do not re-post in whole or in part without this
notice.  Do not repost on any "for profit" site without my specific written
permission.  Copyright 2012 by Lizard69.

   Girlfriends (Mb, reluct, humil)

   Lizard69



   Timmy sat on the park bench bored out of his mind.  Billy, his only real
friend in the neighborhood, was off visiting his uncle.  In two weeks he'd
return with a whole bunch of wild stories about his vacation.  Yeah, they'd
have things to talk about later, but right now summer vacation wasn't even
three weeks old and he had nothing to do.

   The guy in the white cargo van was nervous.  It wasn't that he was new
to this.  He was in his mid twenties and found out he was "different" when
he wasn't much older than the kid in front of him.  Between boy scouts, the
youth group at church, and sitting for his sisters kids he'd always managed
to keep something going and one or two more in the pipeline.  That was
finished now.  Sis wasn't eager to tell the world that she'd walked in on
her passed out boyfriend and caught her son sucking his dick.  She kept on
bugging the kid though, until he told her where he learned how.  Given a
choice of get the fuck out and don't come back, or "will the defendant
please rise", Bob had hit the road.  Now it was way too long since he'd had
any and this kid looked sooo sweet!  Ten, maybe twelve, blue eyes and a
blond bowl cut, it was hard to judge sitting down but he had to be under
five foot and oh so slim.  He couldn't go more than eighty pounds soaking
wet.  The problem was he'd never grabbed a kid off the street and wasn't
sure he had the nerve to do whatever it took to stay out of jail.

   "Hey kid, you live around here?"

   The guy in front of Timmy wasn't anything special.  Medium length brown
hair, mustache, dressed in jeans and teeshirt, he was holding a folded map.

   "I'm supposed to make a delivery at 2021 Maple Lane.  This is Maple
Street, but I can't find Maple Lane and I'm already late.  If you can show
me where to go and give me a hand unloading I'll be glad to pay you for the
help."

   "You have to go the other way.  It turns into Maple Lane a couple blocks
from here but 2021 is out at the edge of town.  I don't have anything else
to do but you have to give me a ride back after.  I don't want to walk that
far."

   "Great!  Get in on the drivers side.  The other door latch is busted and
I never use it so I didn't bother getting it fixed."

   There was a cargo barrier behind the seats but it wasn't until they
didn't stop at the address he gave that Timmy realized he was trapped.  The
only way out was past the driver and that wasn't going to happen.

   "It isn't too much farther kid.  If you do what you're told and don't
give me any trouble everything will be all right."

   "Mister...  I'm a kid, but I'm not retarded.  If you lied about where we
were going why should I believe anything else you say?  My guess is that
you're going to do stuff you don't want anyone to know about.  That means
first you have to take me somewhere private.  Then, when you're done, you
have to make sure I don't tell anyone.  There's only two ways to do that.
One is for me to tell you a secret, something really important.  That way
you'll know I won't tell your secret because if I do you'll tell mine.  The
only other choice is that I don't get to go home."

   "What's your name kid?"

   "Timmy."

   "Well, Timmy, It sounds to me like you're too smart for your own good.
Kids can't get into the kind of deep trouble grownups can.  What secret
could a boy your age have that would make me sure you won't tell?"

   "Uh...  mister?"

   "Call me Bob."

   "OK Bob.  You know that grownups do sex.  It isn't nice to talk about
it, but it's OK for them to do it.  Right?"

   "Yeah, so what?"

   "Most guys like to do it with young, pretty, girls.  Some guys are
perverts who like to do it with *really* young girls, my age or even
younger.  Right?"

   "Uh huh."

   "So you know how sometimes if the pervert is really horny, and the girl
doesn't want to, he'll make her do it anyway?"

   "Yeah."

   "I...  Uh...  Well...  I want to be the girl."

   He almost ran off the road.  When he finally got it parked all he could
do for a minute was stare.  Shit like this doesn't happen in real life!

   "You have *got* to be fuckin' kidding!  Where in the hell did you ever
get the idea to do something like that!?"

   "I guess it started with Debbie, a girl at school.  We found out that
some old guy molested her.  Me and a couple other guys asked her about it
while we were waiting for the bus.  Everybody is always telling us to be
careful and watch out for child molesters but nobody tells us what it is.
So we asked her what he did, exactly, and she told us.

   "They couldn't do regular sex because he was a grown up and she was
still a kid.  His boy parts were too big to fit in her girl parts.  So he
did it in her mouth instead and up her ass.  I was thinking about that, her
doing that, and I got really embarrassed because I started getting stiff. I
didn't want her to think I was some kind of sicko pervert.  Well, one of
the other guys said something about being glad he wasn't a girl and she
laughed at him.  She said her counselor told her that wouldn't matter. 
Boys have mouths and ass holes too.  Most perverts who go after kids don't
really care about anything but age.  If they can't find a girl they'll do
it to a boy instead.  Some even like boys better because it's harder for a
boy to tell.  A lot of the time the boy will get stiff while the pervert is
doing things and he'll be afraid that if he tells everyone will think he's
a queer."

   "I had to leave then.  The bus was there but I would have had to leave
anyway.  I was so stiff it hurt and I didn't want anyone to see the bulge
in my pants.  It went down after a while but got stiff again any time I
thought of a pervert wanting to do that to me."

   "So you want to do it with me?"

   "Not exactly."

   "Then what do you want?"

   "I told you.  I want you to make me do it."

   "You mean like tear your clothes off and slap you around until you do
what I want"?

   "More like that prison movie they showed us in school.  Like all these
big guys want to do stuff to me and you'll keep them away but only if I do
it with you any time you want."

   "You're already thinking of this as a regular thing?"

   "Only if we find a way to keep it secret.  Maybe you can be like one of
those big brothers in the TV commercials.  I'd tell my mom that we go
places and do stuff.  You know, play catch, go fishing, hang out and talk
about guy stuff.  We could even do some of that if you want.  Until my
friend Billy gets back from vacation I don't have anything to do or anyone
to do it with."

   "That might work.  I can't be part of the regular program.  They screen
those guys pretty carefully.  See if you can talk your mom into letting you
help out at the kennel.  Nobody looks at a job offer too close."

   "Way cool!  It'll be like having a secret identity.  Everybody will
think you're this great guy for letting me hang out with you.  I'll be that
nice boy who volunteered to help out at the kennel.  Only, when you can't
find a date or your girlfriend won't do it, I'm your other girl.  There's
no WAY I'd tell anyone.  How would I explain *asking* to be some creeps
girlfriend?  But you have to promise that as long as I never tell anybody,
you won't either.  OK?"

   "We have a deal."

   "Then prove it!  Let me get out and far enough away I could take off if
I wanted.  You haven't actually done anything yet so you can't get in
trouble."

   "No kid, you haven't done anything.  If a cop knew about this
conversation I'd already be in deep shit."

   "OK, You're taking a chance, but sooner or later you have to take a
chance anyway.  If you let me go after you do it you're taking a chance I
won't tell.  If you don't let me go you're taking a bigger chance that
nobody will figure out what happened.  If you let me out now and I go with
you anyway it's sort of like I'm coming back for more even if it's only the
first time."

   Bob thought it over and the kid had a point.  He was taking chances
regardless.  Besides, the idea of this sweet kid climbing into his van
knowing that a creepy stranger was going to take his cherry was just too
hot.  He'd done a couple of kids often enough they started showing up as a
regular thing but he'd never even fantasized about something like this. 
Without another word He climbed out leaving the door open and popped the
hood.

   While pretending to fiddle with the engine Bob peered past the curb side
of the van watching Timmy walk away in the direction they came from.  There
was a woman doing yard work half way up the block but the kid didn't go
very far before turning around and getting back in the van.  He sat there
staring out the side window while Bob started up and pulled out into
traffic.

   "My mom told me to be there by six for supper.  It's not even one
o'clock yet.  You have the whole afternoon so, like, don't be in a hurry,
OK?  Where are you taking me?"

   "I'm house sitting for the guy who owns the kennel just outside town. 
It's closed for the rest of the month.  Only his own dogs are there now. 
We'll stay out of the office part of the building.  There aren't any
windows in the storage area and with the dogs barking and whining out back,
even if somebody stops they won't hear anything going on inside."

   It didn't take long for Bob to feed and water the dogs in the kennel. 
He had Timmy wait inside just in case somebody stopped.  When he finished
with the dogs he found the boy leaning back against a wall, hugging himself
as if he was cold, and staring at the toes of his sneakers.  Before he
could ask, the kid started to speak.

   "What you said before, about tearing my clothes off and slapping me
around, would you really do that?"

   "If it's the only way to get you to do it.  You can start by taking your
clothes off."

   His hands kind of fluttered around as he made a couple of false starts.

   "Don't get mad, OK?  I've thought about it...  a lot...  but there's a
humongous difference between thinking about it and actually doing
something. Besides, you're not just gonna make me do stuff kids don't do,
it's stuff I wouldn't do even if I was a grown up.  I've never been a
pervert before."

   "You think you're a pervert?  What about me?"

   "For sure!  The thing is, sick weirdo perverts don't pop up out of
nowhere all grown up.  You didn't go to sleep one night normal and wake up
the next day a pervert.  My friend Billy has a really creepy uncle.  His
uncle says he was always a pervert but he didn't know it until he got old
enough to start getting horny.  That's when he found out that he got horny
over different stuff than his friends."

   He straightened up and peeled his teeshirt off tossing it into a corner.
There were a couple rows of pallets piled with kennel supplies.  Bob
watched while the kid sat on one to take off his sneakers.  When he stood
up he unfastened his jeans, pushed them down and kicked them over to join
his shirt.  Bob could hardly believe what he was seeing.  The tight white
briefs weren't doing much to hide a nice little erection, there was even a
wet spot where a drop of pre-cum had soaked through the cotton.  Hooking
his thumbs in the waistband of his underpants, the kid pushed them down
until they fell around his ankles then added them to the pile.  He stood
there blushing like a beet but Bob hardly noticed.  Timmy's cock wasn't
anything special, about as thick as Bob's thumb and a little over four
inches long.  What held his attention was the way it pointed at the
ceiling, stiff as a spike, while a glistening drop of fluid began to form
at the tip.

   "Well kid, I guess it's time for you to find out what it's like with a
pervert.  Even if you have a friend telling you all about it you can't
really *know* what it's like until you do it."

   "Debbie said the first time hurts."

   Bob stepped in and lifted Timmy's chin until he was looking into his
eyes while he gently cupped the child's hairless nut sack.  He began to
slowly run a fingertip up and down the underside of Timmy's cock, pausing
now and then to swirl the pre-cum oozing from the tip around the head of
the stiff little prick.

   "Yes Timmy, it can hurt at first.  How bad and how long partly depends
on you.  It can be really bad if you tense up and fight it.  If you can
accept that you're going to be fucked and you try to relax and let it
happen it goes a lot easier.  Some creeps will get rough just to hear a kid
squeal.  Let's add to our deal.  If you do what you can to make it more fun
for me, I'll do what I can to make it easier for you."

   "OK."

   "You're one sick little puppy.  I like that in a kid.  I'm going to
check the vet cabinet.  There should be some kind of lube in there."

   Bob didn't recognize the brand but there was a tube of something
slippery next to the rectal thermometer.  In the couple minutes he was gone
the boy had found a pallet stacked waist high with bags of kibble.  He was
sitting there trying to look like he was waiting for a bus instead of being
so scared he was ready to bolt.

   "Uh, what now?"

   "Lay back and pull your knees up and apart."

   "Not, 'bend over'?"

   "Nah, I like to watch a kids face while I'm fucking him."

   Timmy swallowed hard and did as he was told.  From his expression he'd
skipped having second thoughts and moved directly to third or fourth.

   The boy relaxed a little as Bob dropped his pants and squeezed out a
palm full of lube.  One of the reasons he'd never been reported for fucking
kids is that his own dick wasn't exactly huge.  It was long enough, a
couple inches longer than Timmy's, but not much thicker.  A kid seeing a
big thick dick knows it's going to hurt and gets so tense it hurts even
worse.  Bob could usually get the head inside before they clamped down. 
Then a few minutes of waiting would let the muscles relax enough he could
start thrusting.

   This time he took it even slower.  He wasn't concerned about being
especially nice.  The idea of being a father figure in public while
secretly using the boy sexually was too good to be true.  Sure, it would be
great if this turned into a steady thing.  For now, all he could count on
was this one afternoon and he wanted to make it last.

   Timmy caught his lower lip between his teeth, not so much trying to keep
quiet, as concentrating on the new sensations.  Bob found the whole thing
too exciting for words and was filling that tight little ass with dick
juice almost before he could get a rhythm going.  Maybe he was reading what
he wanted to see but Timmy seemed disappointed it was over so quick.  Bob
knew better.  This was only the beginning.  While he washed his cock at a
utility sink Timmy sat there hugging himself and staring at the floor.

   "Not quite what you expected was it?"

   "No."

   "Don't worry.  It gets better with practice."

   Timmy picked up his underwear as if planning to get dressed but Bob
plucked them out of his hands and tossed them back on the pile.

   "We're just getting started."

   Bob reached out and grabbing the back of Timmy's head, tipped his face
up until they were eye to eye, practically nose to nose.

   "You already took the biggest step.  You probably don't understand just
how big yet.  Look me in the eye.  You took off your clothes, spread your
legs, and I *fucked* you.  Say it!"

   "You fu...  fuck...  You fucked me."

   "Good, but I want to hear you say it all."

   "I took my clothes off, spread my legs, and you...  You fucked me."

   "It's our secret.  Nobody else knows.  If your neighbors are outside
later, they'll see the same nice boy who's lived next door for years.  Your
mom is going to come home to the same sweet son she had when she left for
work this morning.  To anyone else, anywhere else, you're the same Timmy as
always.  Even if you're with me, when anyone else is around you're a normal
kid hanging out and doing normal kid stuff.  You understand?"

   "Yes!"

   Curious about what the boy would do next the man let him go.  Timmy
wandered around the room full of kennel supplies, picking things up and
putting them back down.  On a peg near the door were several collars and
leashes in assorted sizes.  Bob sat watching, relaxed but slowly getting
turned on again.  He didn't *think* the kid was trying to be a prick tease.
That's part of what made it so hot.  The red leather collar was intended
for one of the smaller breeds but still fit Timmy's neck without being too
snug.  The light chain attached to it was welded loop and could probably be
used to tow Bob's van in a pinch.  When he saw the way Bob was looking at
him he instinctively tried to cover his crotch, with a double handful of
chromed chain.  Then he noticed his own cock was still a stiff little
spike, and had to face the fact that Bob could see he was horny.  Finally
he walked over and handed Bob the end of the leash.

   "What's this supposed to be"?

   "Like you said, a puppy."

   "I said one sick little puppy.  What am I supposed to do now, walk the
dog?  Should I take you to the dog run out back?  It's right next to the
kennel.  Every dog back there has missed at least two mating sessions. 
Some have missed three or four.  You want me to lead you back and forth in
front of all those horny studs?"

   Timmy didn't say another word, just started blushing darker and darker,
finally staring at the far wall when he could no longer look Bob in the
eye.

   "Wow!  Too bad we can't do that.  We always keep the bitch in here and
bring the stud to her.  If we walked her past the cages some of the dogs
might hurt themselves trying to get at her.  You want me to bring some
horny stud in here and watch him use you like a bitch?"

   Again the boy said nothing but, really, what was there to say?

   "I'm about ready to go again.  Get down on your hands and knees. 
Someday I'll have to let you show me how much you *really* love dogs. 
First I want you to get used to being *my* bitch.  How often do you jack
off?"

   "I...  I never..."

   "Bullshit!  There's no way I'm going to believe you stripped down and
let me cum in your ass without ever having popped a load yourself!"

   "A couple times a week I guess..., sometimes more."

   "How about your friend?  What's his name?  Billy?"

   "What do you mean?"

   "You hang together.  You have sleepovers sometimes.  You ever jack off
together?  Maybe experiment a little?"

   "Oh no!  We just talk...  a lot.  Mostly about girls or stuff he hears
from his creepy uncle.  Sometimes...  forget it."

   "Go on.  What about sometimes?"

   "Well, sometimes I get the idea that his uncle does more than just tell
him stuff.  He's spending the first month of summer vacation there.  When
he comes back he'll have all sorts of stories."

   "Did you ever ask him flat out if he did anything?"

   "Cripes no!  I mean he's the best friend I have but, ask him if he's
doing it with his own uncle?  No way!  Look, I don't make friends easy and
neither does Billy.  We kind of started hanging together because everyone
else thought we were dorks.  He wouldn't tell me if he was doing anything
like that and would think I'm a creep just for asking.  Besides, if his
uncle *did* make him do stuff I'm sure he made him promise not to tell. 
I'm not going to ask him to break a promise that could get him in big
trouble."

   "Maybe you're right.  I have a hunch though that if the right person
asked the right questions in the right way, he'd talk.  He wouldn't tell
everything right away.  There's some things he might not tell anyone, ever.
He's probably a lot like you.  You're not going to tell him the whole,
'secret girlfriend', thing the next time you see him are you?"

   "Are you kidding?!  I might as well just tell him it's been nice having
a friend and go hang myself."

   "How about telling him you lost your cherry?  He'd expect you to brag
about that, wouldn't he?  I bet he'd bug you constantly for all the
details."

   "Yeah, so what?"

   "So, what if you told him it wasn't a girl?  What if you told him some
horny old pervo got you alone somewhere?"

   "I can't tell him about asking you to do it!"

   "No, you can't, not right away.  It would be too much for him,
especially if he really isn't doing anything himself.  So skip the details
until it's easier to explain.  Ask him what he'd think if some pervo got
you alone somewhere private."

   Timmy winced as Bob's finger gently probed his recently fucked pucker.

   "Already a little sore?  This time I'll let you set the pace.  You want
some horny pervert to use you like a girl?  Ok, I can do that.  You want to
pretend that you're really a nice boy and I'm blackmailing you into being
my secret girlfriend?  That just makes it hotter.  But understand this. 
I'm not interested in *nice* girls.  If I'm going to make you be a girl,
you'll be the little slut guys make jokes about."

   Bob felt Timmy shudder as he squeezed out more lube onto his fingers and
began working it into the boys ass hole.  With his free hand he alternately
played with Timmy's nipples and lightly fondled his cock.  Kneeling behind
him he slowly worked his well lubed prick between those tight young cheeks
until the head was snug against the ring of Timmy's anus.  Then he reached
under to wrap his slippery fingers around the boys stiff little prick.

   "Think you can do that, bitch?"

   "Please don't...  It really hurts."

   "I didn't ask if you wanted to.  I asked if you can.

   "Y...yes."

   "Good!  I'll keep you so horny whenever we're together that all you'll
be able to think about is being a cock hungry little slut.  So what are
you? Go on.  Say it!"

   "A...  a cock hungry little slut."

   "And what do perverts do to cock hungry little sluts?"

   "Fu...  fuck them?"

   "That's right.  You can decide at any time that you want to quit, go
back to acting like a normal kid.  Until then you either play my way, all
the way, or we don't play at all.  Can my hot little slut take another load
of pervert spunk in her ass?"

   "Yyyes"

   "Then do it!  I'm going to hold my hand still and let you fuck my fist.
Of course the only way you can pull back to take a stroke is by shoving
your ass hole onto my cock."

   He squirmed, wiggled, and whimpered for a while but finally managed get
his butt onto Bob's cock.

   "I'm going to let you set the pace.  The harder you do it the better
your cock will feel.  And the better my cock will feel.  And the more your
ass will hurt.  If I cum first I'll let you keep on fucking my fist until
you pop your load too."

   Timmy finished first but not by much.  A few more quick thrusts and Bob
gave the boy his second load of dick juice.

   "Holy shit kid!  I need a breather after that!  Don't bother getting
dressed.  We've got plenty of time and I'm sure I'll be able to get it up
again before I have to take you home."

   "Nooo!  Please...  I really can't...  Not again!!"

   "Let's get something straight *girlfriend*.  There's do and don't. 
There's will and won't.  There is no can't, not for you, not when you're
with me.  If you're done being my girl already you can clean up and get
dressed.  I'll haul you back to the park and you can try to forget you ever
met me.  Is that what you want?  Well, is it?"

   "No." It was hardly more than a whisper.

   "You want the little girl fantasy of some hot guy forcing you to do
exactly what you really want to do anyway.  OK, I can get into that.  What
you have to understand is that everything worth having has a price.  Any
guy who can make you do what you want can make you do stuff you don't want.
If you keep coming back for more I'll end up making you do stuff you can't
even imagine right now.  That's part of the price you'll have to pay for
getting what you want."

   "What else?"

   "What do you mean?"

   "You said that was part of the price.  What about the rest of it?"

   "That's hard to predict and even harder to explain.  You're
experimenting right now.  You heard that Debbie kid talk about what
happened to her and a kinky idea started rattling around in your head.  You
scratched that itch.  Maybe it's done and won't come back.  Maybe next week
you'll be dreaming about eating your first pussy.

   "Sometimes scratching an itch only helps for a little while.  Instead of
going away it comes back stronger.  If you act out a fantasy you might find
that the real deal is even more exciting than your imagination.  More often
the reality isn't that good.  The original fantasy loses it's shine, but
six new ones take its place.  I figure there's maybe one chance in three
that I'll ever see you again after we're done today.  It's even money that
if I do you'll be a witness for the prosecution.  I can live with those
odds but I'm going to do everything I can to tip things more in my favor."

   "Like what?"

   "Come over here where I can wash that lube off your dick.  I'm sure it's
non-toxic but if it was made for shoving rectal thermometers into dogs I'd
bet nobody thought about the taste."

   "Taste?"

   "Uh Huh, and while I'm cleaning you up you can return the favor."

   Bob loved the boys shy uncertainty as he used the cleanup to introduce
him to the joys of mutual masturbation.  Timmy balked at kissing, until Bob
convinced him there was more to being a girl than spreading his legs.  He
was surprised to find that opening his mouth was just as sexy as dropping
his pants.  Done right, a deep kiss was a wordless promise to deliver
anything else the man wanted from him.  Then again, it wasn't exactly
difficult to let the older man wrap his lips around his stiff young dick.
Minutes later he had his second orgasm from his third sex act and lost
interest in counting.  Especially when Bob used the next kiss to share a
mouth full of cum.  He'd wondered what a perverts cum would taste like.  It
still surprised him.  Even after listening to Debbie it hadn't occurred to
him to taste his own.

   After they got dressed Bob spent a couple hours showing him around the
property and talking dogs and sports.  The kid needed time to get used to
being nice little Timmy before he went home.  They were in the van before
Bob set the final hook.

   "Like I said the choice is yours.  If you want a place to hang out, and
other stuff, I'm there.  While you're thinking it over I want you to do me
one favor.  I don't want to rush you, but I want you to decide sometime
soon.  So, I'm asking you not to jack off until you've decided one way or
the other about being my, 'alternate girlfriend'.  If you get so horny you
can't keep your hands off of it but still haven't made up your mind, give
me a call.  I might extend the deadline by one cum shot if you ask real
nice."

   Since he honestly didn't expect to hear from the kid again he was a
little surprised though not too worried when he got a call from Timmy's mom
one morning almost a week later.

   "Is this Bob...?"

   "Parker.  Bob Parker ma'am.  What can I do for you?"

   "This is Mary Anderson, Timmy's mom.  Timmy tells me you would like for
him to help out at the kennel, sort of a summer job?"

   "Well, not really anything that formal.  I'm care taking at the Shady
Lane kennel and can't afford to hire a kid to do my own job.  Timmy asked
if he could hang around and help out.  He really loves animals.  I told him
he'd have to clear it with his folks, so you'd know where he was at and
what he was up to."

   "Oh.  So it's just a voluntary thing?  Not a paying job?"

   "That's right.  Actually, the bigger attraction is the river that
borders the back of the property.  If he lends a hand with the kennel
chores we'll probably spend most of our time fishing."

   "Well, I guess that's OK.  I'd be happier if he found a way to earn some
money.  He's getting old enough that the allowance I can afford doesn't go
very far.  Still, I'd rather have him volunteering to do something useful
than sitting around thinking up ways to get in trouble.  I have to leave
for work in an hour, could you pick him up before then?"

   "Sure, no problem."

   Bob had to park down the street for a few minutes to let it get right
down to the wire.  He figured it was better if she didn't have time to ask
a lot to questions.  Five minutes after he pulled up Timmy was standing
next to him watching Mary's car disappear around the first corner.

   "I almost shit when mom told me what you said.  If she knew what you
meant about, 'really loving animals', I'd be grounded until I'm old enough
to vote."

   "Uh huh.  Before this goes any further we need to talk.  Lets go
inside."

   They got as far as the kitchen before Bob stopped him.

   "You really did it, set it up with your mom so you could be alone with
me.  We both know what's going to happen now.  I'm going to use you like a
girl.  I've had a hardon since your mom called and from that tent in your
shorts you have too.  Get your clothes off.  You're her only kid so I'm
sure she has a picture of you on her desk.  I want to be balls deep in your
tight little ass before she gets there and sits down in front of your
picture."

   While Timmy stripped completely bare Bob rummaged through the cupboards
and found a can of vegetable grease.  The boy bent over, resting his chest
on the kitchen table while reaching back with both hands to spread his butt
cheeks exposing his pretty pink pucker.  He made a few gasps and moans but
didn't try to pull away as Bob greased him up and gently stretched his ass
until it was ready to take a cock.

   "So boy, are you ready?"

   "I...  I've been ready for two days!"

   He tried to go slow but the way Timmy was spreading his butt and rising
up on his toes to meet Bobs thrusts soon had him so turned on he was
pounding away.

   "That's it!  Stick your cock in me!  Make me be your girlfriend!  I get
so hot when you make me ask for it.  I'll be a girl any time you want me."

   When Bob watched him let go of one ass cheek so he could jerk off while
being fucked it was enough to push him over the edge.  He'd barely finished
cumming when he felt the boys ass hole flutter and clench as the kid popped
his own load.  Bob spotted a roll of paper towels near the sink.  He'd
wiped his dick, zipped his fly, and was wiping Timmy's freshly fucked butt
when he noticed Mary.  She was standing in the front hall wearing an
expression of horrified disbelief.

   "Timmy, I think you'd better grab your clothes and dress in your room.
It looks like your mom and I have some things to discuss."

   "Oh shit!"

   "Yeah."

   As the boy took off she moved hesitantly into the kitchen.  Grabbing the
purse she had left sitting on the counter she turned to go, then stopped
and dialed the phone.

   "Hello?  This is Mary.  Let me speak to Ellen.  You'll have to get one
of the other girls to cover for me.  I know this is zero notice but family
problems are that way.  I'll try to make it in a little later but no
promises."

   She moved past him and started loading the coffee maker.

   "Would you like coffee?  Under the circumstances that sounds trivial but
I don't know what else to say.  I guess a cigarette is more traditional but
I don't smoke.  Asking this seems completely surreal but what I just saw
was so far out of my normal frame of reference I have to confirm it.  Were
you actually having homosexual intercourse with my son?"

   "Yes."

   "Was he in fact making comments that would lead an unbiased observer to
believe he was an active participant?"

   "There was some...  enthusiasm on his part.  Yes."

   "He...  He isn't even a teenager, not for two more months...  I heard
him offering to, 'be a girl', and requesting that you, 'make him be your
girlfriend'.  Is there some specific act...?"

   "I don't know if there is a polite way to describe it.  He wasn't making
love.  The way he uses those terms implies a certain amount of reluctance
on his part."

   "It didn't appear that he was being forced or coerced in any normal
sense."

   "As I understand it, he's presently fascinated by the idea of being used
sexually *as if* he were both female and withholding his consent."

   "Mr.  Parker, I'm familiar with the concept of sexual role play. 
Between consenting adults I find it harmless and occasionally amusing. 
What I'm finding difficult to accept is that my son, a twelve year old
child, finds it gratifying to play the role of a similarly aged girl being
sexually abused.  If I had not personally witnessed the event I would flat
out refuse to believe it.  He was so deeply engaged in the role that he
actively requested to be used in a manner the average boy his age would
find physically painful and utterly humiliating."

   "Perhaps it would be easier if you didn't think of him as a child.  Time
doesn't stand still.  Boys grow up."

   "Yes, to every time there is a season.  I've done my homework, reading
the books and articles so I could try to help him cope.  It's an area where
a mother really can't help that much.  I was expecting a certain amount of
experimentation and gender identity issues.  But I was thinking more in
terms of mutual masturbation with a friend during a sleep over.  Walking in
on him this morning makes my pre-planned, 'talk', seem hopelessly naive."

   "I think you underestimate your influence.  At this point you're the
source of almost everything he knows about women.  You're also trying to
fill in for a missing father who would otherwise be providing answers to
questions about, 'guy stuff'.  You were probably going to start by
apologizing for inadvertently violating his privacy.  From there you'd say
something along the lines of it being normal to experiment.  Next you'd
caution him about being discrete and avoiding physically risky behavior. 
Maybe you'd even give him a few tips on choosing appropriate partners."

   Her eyes widened like he'd dealt her five aces.

   "Ma'am, it's a fairly standard speech.  While you didn't expect to apply
it to a situation this extreme it's still appropriate.  I certainly
wouldn't describe it as 'naive'."

   "Maybe not, but while I was willing to accept a certain amount of
experimentation as normal I certainly wasn't thinking in terms of an adult
partner."

   "I'm beginning to see.  Are you under the impression I seduced him, or
had something to do with his choice of role play fantasy?"

   "I'd find it hard not to believe that."

   "Nothing I could say would be convincing.  If the offer is still open
I'll accept that cup of coffee while you and Timmy discuss the issue."

   In less than fifteen minutes she was back at the kitchen table.  "While
I have to admit I still don't understand it I guess I owe you an apology."

   "Thank you.  Now the question is where do we go from here.  If I'm
waiting for a cop to tap me on the shoulder I'd prefer to get it over
with."

   "Timmy was equally emphatic that he would refuse to testify against you.
In fact he insisted he would perjure himself in your defense if I tried to
press the case without his consent.  This whole situation is still very
difficult for me to accept.  Will you give me honest answers to some rather
personal questions?  I can give you the same promise of discretion Timmy
was willing to accept."

   "Within limits I'll do my best."

   "If Timmy expressed a desire to continue this unusual role play would
you do so?  Can I count on your discretion?"

   "Ma'am the fact that we're having this conversation opens some doubts
about how much my discretion is worth.  If what we've been doing becomes
common knowledge I'm in much deeper trouble than your son."

   She raised her voice.  "Timmy!  Would you come in here please?"

   Bob expected him to be tense and flustered but if anything the opposite
was the case.  The boy seemed to have decided that he couldn't get any more
busted and wasn't going to take crap from anybody.

   "I've been forced to accept that my son has discovered an appetite for
certain unusual forms of sexual role play.  This is terribly embarrassing
but I need to avoid any misunderstanding.  My sons preferred role at this
time is that of a young boy being forced to take the place of a female who
is either unavailable or unwilling.  I won't even pretend to understand
what's going on between his ears.  His physical participation includes
submitting to and at times even requesting various forms of homosexual
intercourse.

   "I can't and don't approve of what he is doing.  I've agreed not to
intervene if he will keep his experimentation within certain guidelines. 
First is privacy.  At this house that means his bedroom or the game room in
the basement.  That includes shades drawn and doors locked.  Anywhere else
you will either achieve a similar degree of privacy or abstain. 
Specifically I don't *ever* want to walk in on you in my kitchen again.

   "Second is a concern for his health.  You're already straining the
definition of consensual.  Timmy is so much smaller than you physically
that almost anything you do together could be considered, 'rough sex'.  I'm
serious about this Timmy.  If you begin to feel things are getting out of
hand I need to know.  Otherwise I'd prefer a decent level of ignorance. 
Can you both abide by those conditions?"

   "I don't see why not.  We were already doing the first part.  How about
it Timmy?  Can you talk to your mom if things start to go sour?"

   "I guess so.  Keeping a secret this big isn't easy.  To be honest it's
kind of a relief to get caught."

   "All right then.  I have to get to work and I assume you need to get
back to the kennel.  I expect Timmy to be home by five thirty at the
latest. Now if you'll excuse me."

   Mary got up and left, carefully taking her purse with her this time. 
Timmy and Bob didn't quite follow her out the door but were soon in his van
heading for the kennel.

   "Kid I hope you have some idea of just how lucky you are.  Your mom
impressed the hell out of me.  She walked in on a situation that pretty
much turned her whole world upside down and somehow managed to land on her
feet.  There are generals leading armies that can't do that."

   "I guess she's all right.  Sometimes she tries so hard to run everything
it drives me nuts.  Like just now.  Any other kids mom would have pitched a
howling fit.  I'm sort of glad she didn't.  I don't need to be yelled at
and you don't need to be arrested.  But I sure don't need my own mother
telling me where and how some pervert can do it to me.  You know what that
makes me want to do?  I want to find some alley full of grubby creeps, and
let one of them fuck me, right out in the open, while the rest of them
watch.

   "The worst part about it is that she's right.  The same advice from
anyone else would just be common sense.  It wouldn't bother me at all. 
Sometimes I wonder how much she knows about how I feel."

   "What do you mean?"

   "How often does she tell me she wants something just to make sure I
don't do it?  Like telling me she doesn't want to know what we do together
unless things start going too far.  Did she really mean that, or does she
want me to tell her everything as long as I finish each story with, 'I can
do that if he wants me to but I don't think I can go any farther'?"

   "Sort of a wheels within wheels thing?  Like maybe the reason she didn't
go totally ballistic is that she's secretly glad you weren't messing around
with somebody else's kid?"

   "Maybe, and maybe something else too.  I don't think she likes men very
much.  Dad and her used to have awful fights.  When he died everyone talked
about how well she handled it.  Since then she hasn't had a boyfriend.  She
parties sometimes with women she knows but never guys.  We get in stupid
fights.  Like one minute she wants me to stay a kid forever and the next
minute she wants me to be old enough I can move out."

   "I'm beginning to see what you mean.  She can't keep you from growing up
but can't stand the idea of having a man in the house.  She doesn't want
you to have sex with anyone, not even jerking yourself off.  Walking in on
us was a shock, but it should have been worse.  She'd prepared herself for
the idea that you'd want to have a girlfriend, then caught you in the
middle of being a girlfriend.  If I'd been fucking her twelve year old
daughter she'd have been on the phone to the cops before I dried off my
dick.  With you, she still had to get her disapproval on the record but
since no actual women were being abused there wasn't the same sense of
urgency about it.  This is just a feeling but I think that if you started
asking, 'how to be a girl', type questions she might start talking to you
as a friend instead of as a kid or a threat."

   "That would sure be different."

   With the two of them working it didn't take long to get the dogs fed and
the kennel clean.  After getting caught that morning neither one of them
wanted to be the first to suggest another round.  So they grabbed a fishing
pole, packed some lunch, and went for the river at the back of the
property. The road followed the other side and there was no bridge nearby
so this bank didn't even have the usual foot path.  They spent the
afternoon talking cars and sports, the usual guy stuff.  After a while talk
sort of died out and Timmy noticed Bob looking at him sort of funny.

   "What are you looking at?

   "Your face."

   "Why?  Is there mustard on my chin?"

   "Nope.  I was an artist for a while.  Nothing serious but I enjoyed it
and even sold a few paintings.  I doubt that I could ever have made a
living at it.  The hard part wasn't the painting.  It was learning how to
look at things.  To make people see what you want them to see in a painting
you first have to be able to see it yourself."

   "So?"

   "So, I was thinking that you have one of those faces that can go either
way.  If I took a picture of you, a close up showing mostly your face, and
showed it to a bunch of people they'd say, 'What a cute boy'."

   "Yeesh!"

   "It gets better.  If I painted a picture of you, I could make a couple
tiny changes and people would ask how I got such a pretty girl to pose for
me.  More than half of them wouldn't get the joke it you were standing next
to me when they asked the question!"

   "You're kidding right?"

   "Nope.  In fact it's given me another idea..."

   They kicked the idea around for a few days.  Finally, Timmy agreed to
talk to his mom about it.  He was sitting at the kitchen table listening to
her chatter about nothing much while she was fixing supper.  It took him a
few tries to work up the nerve.  Picking a time when her back was towards
him while she stirred something on the stove he asked the question Bob had
coached him on.

   "Mom?  How hard is it to take off lipstick?"

   She didn't drop her spoon or whatever on the floor but he heard it
rattle in the pot.  In a voice so controlled it could have come from a
robot she said, "So now he wants you to wear makeup."

   "Not *makeup*, on a boy my age that would look as silly as a circus
clown pretending to be a hooker.  He doesn't even want me to load up like a
preteen girl trying to look older.  He was thinking something like a twelve
year old tomboy deciding it wouldn't be all bad if somebody noticed she was
a girl.  It has to be light enough I can wipe it off in a hurry and most
people wouldn't notice if I didn't.  It also has to be simple enough I can
do it myself.  He doesn't want me wearing it on the street, just when we're
hanging out."

   "What exactly did he have in mind?"

   "Something that will make my mouth look fuller, pouty.  Like lipstick,
no more than a couple shades from my natural color.  That was the main
thing.  Maybe something to make my eyelashes more noticeable.  Not big
globs of mascara, just something to darken them a little."

   There was a long pause while she thought.

   "I guess that isn't unreasonable, but why did you bother to ask?"

   "You wanted to know about any changes.  Also, we were kind of hoping you
could show me how.  Uh, he gave me money but I don't know what to buy."

   "We're close enough to the same skin shade some of mine should work for
now.  Later you can buy your own or I can pick up extra for you when I buy
mine."

   Things were kind of quiet while they ate.  A couple times she looked
like she was going to ask something then decided to let it wait.  When they
finished she sat him down at her dressing table so he could see in the
mirror what she was doing while she pulled up a chair next to him facing
the other way.

   "Are you sure you want to do this?"

   "No, but Bob wants it and the worst that can happen is that I'll feel a
little silly.  How do I do this?"

   She didn't use a lot of makeup herself but had several shades of
lipstick.  After holding a couple up in front of his mouth she chose one
and a small brush.

   "You know how all the toothpaste commercials show a huge fat worm of
whatever they're selling on the bristles of the brush?  You know that
nobody actually uses that much to brush their teeth?"

   "Yeah."

   "Lipstick is the same way.  You can smear it on directly from the tube,
then blot most of it back off.  That's sort of like painting with a putty
knife.  It will do the job, sort of, but it doesn't work very well and
wastes a lot of paint.  What works best for me is to use a small brush to
pick it up from the end of the stick then paint it on.  That way you don't
use more than you need and you have a lot better control of where it goes.

   "The tricky part is getting it only where you want it.  It's not like a
coloring book where you can stay inside the lines.  Your lips gradually
shade from their full color to the surrounding skin.  If you want them to
look, 'fuller', or, 'pouty', you have to extend the normal shade past its
normal outline.  If you go too far you'll look like one of those kids that
doesn't need a seatbelt in the car.  I'll be able to wet your lips and
stick you to the window next to that suction cup Garfield."

   "Oh mom!"

   "I'll do it this time and you can practice later alone.  It's actually
easier without somebody looking over your shoulder.  You can steady your
fingers by resting the edge of your hand against your cheek or chin,
whatever works best for you.  One thing Bob was right about is not to over
do it.

   "Technically if it goes on your eyelashes it's mascara.  There are
different types and colors.  It's another place where less is more.  You
want to use the smallest amount to get the effect you're after.  If you get
too much on and make the mistake of rubbing your eyes it will tend to
spread until you look like a raccoon.  If you start to cry it will streak
down the side of your face like that clown you talked about.  The hardest
part is holding your eyelid still while you brush the lashes from base to
tip."

   They weren't doing much and after only a few minutes she put the brush
down.  He was shocked by the reflection in the mirror.

   "Oh...  My...  God..., I really *do* look like a girl!"

   "Not really hon, not unless somebody is looking closely at just your
face.  A hundred people could walk past you on the street and not notice
anything strange.  Besides, well, wasn't that the whole idea?"

   "I guess.  Sort of.  Bob said he could paint a picture of me with only a
couple of changes and everybody would think a girl posed for it.  I didn't
argue about it but I guess I didn't really believe him.  Anyway, that's not
the same as looking in a mirror and having a girl look back.  I don't know
if I can do this."

   "OK, now you have me confused.  You can do...  what I walked in on, but
you can't wear lipstick?"

   "It's not like that.  Well...  It is...  But not like *THAT*.  That day
we were both in a hurry and got a little crazy.  It's not rape, rape, rape,
until he can't get hard again every time I'm alone with him.  We don't do
it every day.  Mostly we take care of the dogs.  We spend a lot of time
fishing or playing catch.  Sometimes we take one of the dogs and a Frisbee
so the dog can play too.  We also talk a lot.  You know, cars, sports, guy
stuff."

   "I'm glad to hear he isn't just, uh, using you, but why the lipstick?"

   "When he wants to do that stuff he will get close, put an arm around me,
and tell me it's 'girlfriend time'.  I can usually guess before he actually
says anything.  We still spend a lot more time talking about it than doing
things.  Mom?  This is kind of creepy and sort of embarrassing but...  he
says he gets his biggest kick out of watching my face."

   "Your face?"

   "Uh huh.  He says it's so open it's like the exact opposite of a poker
face.  He could do it to me in front of a movie camera, never show anything
below my shoulders, and half the people who see the film would cum in their
pants, just from watching my face."

   "He hasn't actually done that has he?"

   "Oh no!  No films, no pictures, nothing that might cause problems later.
But that's why the lipstick is such a big deal.  Now when it's, 'girlfriend
time', he can make me look like one too."

   "I think I see.  Maybe I should have asked more questions before I
showed you how.  Then again, lipstick isn't exactly rocket science.  If you
know what you're trying to do, finding out how to do it isn't too hard."

   "Are you mad at me?"

   "No, not really.  It's...  I think the word you used was creepy?  Not
just what he does to you, that's creepy too, but the thought of me helping
you become more.., attractive?.., desirable?  I'm going to ask you to do me
a favor.

   "This is Friday.  I have to go in to clean up a few loose ends at the
office tomorrow morning.  If you want to hang out with Bob then it's Ok.  I
want you around here for the rest of the weekend.  You can spend some time
practicing how to apply makeup but I would prefer you didn't wear it for
Bob until Monday.  If you're not comfortable with the idea then, either let
it wait a while or don't do it."

   "OK."

   Part 2 (Mb, bg, Mdom)



   Thinking she'd be alone in the office Mary was a little startled when
she ran into Harold, the company IT person.

   "Hello, I didn't expect anyone else to be in today."

   "I needed to install some server updates.  Right now I'm waiting for the
database to re-index then everything should be good to go."

   "Oh, let me know when it's back on line." She started to turn away and
then had another thought.

   "Uh, Harold?, if you have a few minutes there is something I'd like to
discuss with you.  It's not work related.  In fact, it's personal enough
that unless I can be sure of your discretion I should probably keep my
mouth shut."

   "OK Mary, now you have me interested.  I maintain the company server
including email and web browsing logs.  Half the people who work here would
be at each others throat if I wasn't discrete."

   "I never thought about it before but can see what you mean.  First a
question.  It's sort of an open secret around here that you're gay.  Is
that true, or just inaccurate gossip you've chosen not to correct?"

   "Yes I'm gay.  It's really nobodies business, unless you were planning
to ask me for a date?"

   "I'm sure I know more than one gay man.  You're the only one that is
openly gay and doesn't seem to have a chip on his shoulder about it.  I
need advice from somebody comfortable with their nature, not someone hiding
in the closet or pushing an agenda.  Would you step into my office and grab
a seat while I explain?"

   "You've got me hooked."

   After taking a moment to get settled she continued.  "You've seen my
sons photo on my desk?  Recently he made a new friend.  Bob is in his early
twenties, about a decade older than Timmy.  He's more of a companion and
mentor than a peer.  One morning he stopped as I was leaving for work and
disrupted my routine enough that I forgot my purse.

   "I went back for it and got one heck of a shock.  When I walked in on
them..., well..., excuse me for being vulgar.  They weren't making love or
engaged in intercourse.  This pervert was *fucking* my son."

   "Oh shit!"

   "Uh huh, for several minutes that's about as far as my own thinking
went. They had time to finish before either of them noticed me standing
there.  My first impulse was to call the police.  I'd actually picked up
the phone before having second thoughts.  Instead I called in late and
spent some time trying to understand what was going on."

   "And did you...  understand that is?"

   "Perhaps...  a little...  I'm still trying to make sense of things. 
From what I've heard and read it isn't unusual for adolescent boys to
experiment.  This seemed more, I don't know, developed?  Besides the, uh,
physical side of it they were engaged in a sort of role play.  To me that
seems terribly sophisticated for a beginner.  He isn't quite into his teens
yet.  The only thing that kept me from calling the police was the memory of
my own first experience.  I was less than a year older than Timmy and the
boy was sixteen.  If we'd been caught he would probably have been waived
into adult court and convicted of statutory rape.  I'm sure a few of my
classmates were virgin on their wedding night.  I'm equally certain I
wasn't the first to misplace her cherry.

   "Is the experience similar for gay men?  How old were you the first
time? Do you think you were older or younger than average?"

   "I don't normally discuss these things, certainly not with a woman I
hardly know!  But, you seem to be making a sincere effort to understand. 
That's rare enough I'll do whatever I can to encourage it.

   "Most kids, especially boys, spend a lot of time on role playing games.
It isn't surprising that your son would use role play as a familiar way to
explore an activity new to him.  My first gay encounter was with a youth
group leader at the church I attended.  I was still in middle school.  He
was a high school senior.  I don't know how close to average I was.  I do
know that if I'd met him a year or two earlier it would have happened that
much sooner.  My first time with a girl was nearly a year later."

   "You're bisexual?"

   "No, I'm gay, but I could hardly know that without trying it with women
could I?  I don't believe there is such a thing as a person who is 100%
straight or gay.  The most hard core homophobic gay basher has wondered at
some point what it would be like.  The most outrageous flaming queer has at
some time or other had a little interest in a woman.  That most of us are
predominately one or the other really doesn't mean much.  In fact, I'd be
willing to bet some of the guys with a reputation as, 'ladies men', are
actually less hetero than some others with premature ejaculation problems.
Gay and straight are nothing more than convenient labels.  Keep in mind
also that they apply to preference not performance.  I can function with a
woman, but unless she's something special it generally isn't worth the
effort."

   "So you don't think I have anything to worry about?"

   "I didn't say that.  Worry is probably too strong a word.  What you
should be concerned about is this relationship crowding out more
appropriate contact with his peers.  Now that he's having sex with somebody
the biological pressure to get a girls pants off is greatly reduced.  If
the social pressure to do so also disappears it may be quite a while before
he has a chance to compare the two and establish a real preference.  On the
other hand, it could work the other way just as easy."

   "How so?"

   "Twelve year old boys tend to be pretty inept when it comes to women. 
Twelve year old girls aren't much better when dealing with men.  However
girls generally aren't expected to pursue the object of their affections.
The first few times a girl has intercourse about all that's expected is
that she *be* there.  If Timmy already has somebody he can go to for sex,
he may be a lot more relaxed and tolerant when some young lady leads him on
then has a last second change of heart.

   "Another thing to consider is the nature of Bobs attraction to the boy.
Is he homosexual or is he more interested in the fact that your son is
young?"

   "That I can answer.  Their current fantasy requires Timmy to submit to
sexual activity, 'as if', he were a girl of similar age.  While they both
refer to it as, 'being a girl', that portion of their relationship is
almost exclusively sexual in nature.  Also there is a strong domination
theme.  While his participation is completely voluntarily, the role he's
playing is that of a young girl submitting to a serial rapist."

   "Ok, so you know it's not going to be a long term thing.  As soon as he
begins to develop more adult male characteristics Bob will begin to lose
interest.  It's important that Timmy expand his own social net to include
other potential partners before he gets dumped."

   "What about the fantasy itself?"

   "It's almost irrelevant.  He's got a pretty solid grip on reality,
right? You're not worried about him leaping off the roof with a throw rug
because he's a level 38 Sultan with flying carpet privilege?"

   "No, but this is different."

   "Because the game is sexual in nature?  Have you really looked at the
artwork on the games he plays?  Due to the age of their target market there
is a limit to how explicit they can get.  The competition for players is so
intense the game designers crowd that limit pretty hard.  The artwork
itself may not be created by hormone crazed teenage boys but they're
certainly the ones it's aimed at.  Now he's involved in his first adult
oriented RPG and they're making up the rules as they go along.  It's
important that they share input while making the rules.  The critical thing
to be concerned about is that the game remains consensual.

   "So far that doesn't seem to be a problem.  I'm a little worried things
might get out of hand.  He's already asked me to teach him how to use
cosmetics.  Just lipstick and mascara for now but I doubt it will stop
there."

   "Excellent!  Oh, don't look at me that way.  It may progress as far as
costumes before they're through.  What's excellent is that he's coming to
you for advice.  If you're careful not to push, not to try telling him what
to do, if you give him only the support he's actually seeking, you'll be
somebody he can fall back on should things start to go wrong."

   "I'm not entirely convinced things aren't already going wrong.  However,
your suggestions coincide with my own thoughts on the matter.  Unless I
want to keep him under close supervision 24/7 I'm going to have to learn to
trust his judgment.  Trying to tell him what to do is worse than useless.
He's reached that age where if I tell him the milk has gone bad he'll chug
whatever is left in the carton."

   "You've got it.  Right now keeping the lines of communication open is
more important than anything else.  If you just can't resist the urge to
offer unwanted advice there's one trick that might help.  Ask him to review
with you the facts that have you concerned.  Then ask him to think about
how to handle it.  Make it plain you aren't trying to tell him what to do.
You aren't asking him to submit a course of action for your approval.  Then
let him know that you'll be around if he wants to discuss later how things
worked out."

   "That sounds like solid advice.  Thanks for taking the time to discuss
it with me."

   "You're welcome, just because I'm the I.T.  guy doesn't mean I'm
completely out of touch with real people."

   Timmy seemed a little more quiet than usual when she got home. 
Following Harold's advice started to pay off almost immediately.  She spent
the afternoon suppressing her urge to pry.  By the time they were finished
with supper and half way through some insipid sitcom Timmy couldn't keep
quiet any longer.

   "Uh mom?, can I ask a question without you blowing your top?"

   "Is it regarding things you and Bob do together?"

   "Yeah, I guess, well sort of.  We do lots of stuff together but what I
wanted to ask about is part of the role playing."

   "Timmy, you know I don't approve of that, but you're still my son and I
care about what happens to you.  The bottom line is that I care about you
enough to stuff my opinions in a bucket and try to keep an open mind.  What
exactly did you want to ask?"

   "Bob calls what I like best the, 'classic young girls rape fantasy'."

   "Uh huh, and what exactly is that supposed to be?"

   "That's where the kind of guy she'd like to be with anyway uses just
enough force to make her do all the things she enjoys but would be too
embarrassed to ask for.  He said the details are different from one girl to
the next but most of them play with a fantasy like that for at least a
little while.  It doesn't mean they want to be raped.  The fantasy is sex
with just enough force to be exciting.  The real thing is violence with
just enough sex to be embarrassing."

   "Well...  I've never heard it described quite that way but I wouldn't
call him a liar."

   "Today he asked me to try something different.  Bob called it the
classic rapist fantasy."

   "This ought to be interesting."

   "Somebody he wants to do it with says no.  He makes them do it anyway.
Whoever it is gradually goes from, 'please don't', to, 'don't tell anyone
how much I like it', and on to, 'don't make me leave already'.  I guess a
lot of the creeps like to believe they're so great in bed that if they can
make somebody do it, they'll enjoy it so much they won't be upset about
being forced."

   "That either makes a twisted sort of sense, or perfect sense to the
twisted sort of person who rapes people."

   "Yeah, well, he said doing it for real is a straight ticket to prison.
There's a tiny handful of people out there that would get into being the
victim of a real rape.  The odds that any one rapist will pick one of those
as a target are so small it makes Russian roulette look like a safe hobby.

   "Anyway, you know that he doesn't really force me to do stuff.  If I
tell him I *can't* do something he'll make me do it anyway.  If I tell him
I *won't* do something whatever that is doesn't happen.  See the
difference?"

   "Yes hon, I understand.  It's kind of a fine line but I guess that makes
for a sharp distinction."

   "To do what he wanted today I had to pretend that I was really being
forced, at least right at first.  He was a little worried that if we really
got into it I might say won't when I didn't intend to, or he might get
carried away and not notice such a small difference.  We talked about it
and decided, 'enough', or just 'nuff would be better if I really wanted him
to stop."

   "I guess you both have a little more sense than I've been willing to
acknowledge.  Did you have to uh, 'holler 'nuff'?"

   "Yes...  No...  Oh, I don't know...  I pretended to fight him and he got
a little rough.  That was Ok, sort of like when me and Billy are play
fighting.  Only Bob weighs twice as much as I do so it wasn't much of a
fight.  Some of the stuff he wanted me to say while he was doing it was
really nasty.  For me the whole thing was more creepy than fun.  Bob told
me after that it was more fun than creepy for him.  It wasn't enough fun
that he's in any hurry to do it again.  I can do that one if he wants it
but I'll be happier if he doesn't want it very often.

   "There was something else.  You know how sometimes something big happens
and you know it's big, but you don't know just how big until later?  Or
somebody tells you something important and later on you're thinking about
it and something you missed at the time makes it a lot more important?

   "After I got home I was thinking about what we did and there were a
couple spots where I should have said something.  At the time everything
was happening so fast.  Before I could decide something was, 'too much', he
was doing something else.  That's wrong, but not too scary.  I know the
word we agreed on before we did anything and I know what that word is now
but...  The more I think about it the more I believe that while he was
doing it I had no idea what to say that would make him stop."

   "That *is* scary.  Now you're feeling like maybe you really got raped?
Hon, I don't know how it is for men, but for a girl that's part of growing
up.  It's all about setting boundaries and making sure the guy you're with
knows what yours are.  I'm sorry this happened to you but sometimes the
knowledge of where your personal line is comes from finding yourself on the
wrong side of it.  If nothing else, it should make you a little more
careful when you're with a girl.  You're a lot less likely than most guys
to be accused of date rape."

   "Uh, thanks, I guess.  Now all I need is a girlfriend."

   "Well, get one."

   "It isn't that easy."

   "Do whatever you want but there is something you might want to think
about hon.  Right now the gender ratio for you is about fifty-fifty.  Girls
mature a little faster.  I can guarantee there are a *LOT* more twelve year
old girls looking for a boyfriend, than boys looking for a girl.  In a
couple of years you'll be competing with all the other guys.  On a related
note, I have to go to the mall for some things tomorrow.  If you want to
girl watch or just hang out, you're welcome to ride along."

   They were hardly into the mall before Timmy stopped as his mom turned to
go into a store.

   "I can't go in there!"

   "I suppose a lingerie shop *is* a little, 'out there', for a twelve year
old boy.  This is also where I buy my cosmetics.  If you're not interested
in watching women decide whether or not they want to wear something frilly,
I can shop for both of us and meet you later at the arcade."

   He was half way there before he quit blushing at the idea of his mom
shopping for him in that place.

   The town was pretty small.  Kids didn't have a lot of places to hang
out. Somebody he knew from school was always at the arcade.  He was a
little surprised to find Debbie there.  He'd felt uncomfortable being
around her since that day at the bus stop.  Now that he had his own
experiences with an older pervert it was even worse.  Still, when she asked
him to play air hockey he didn't try too hard to find a reason to refuse.

   Normally he was fairly good at the game but today he didn't stand a
chance.  She was wearing shorts and a halter that would be snug when her
top developed a little more.  Right now it was loose enough that any time
she bent over his eyes drifted away from the puck to pair of perky little
tits topped with puffy nipples.

   Straightening up after the final goal she said, "Well, you lost the
game, did you enjoy the show?"

   Flustered, he ducked outside but his mom was going to meet him here so
he really couldn't go far.  A short while later he heard a soft voice
behind him.

   "Timmy?  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to embarrass you.  I know you don't
like me.  Don't be mad at me.  Please?"

   "Why do you think I don't like you?"

   "You're always avoiding me.  Especially since that day waiting for the
bus.  I guess I said too much."

   "We asked you and you answered.  I, uh, I thought that was kind of
cool."

   "Yeah, well, I don't think I'll do that again.  Everybody was treating
me like some kind of freak because he did stuff to me.  Almost like I died
and came back or something.  It was like the big question that everybody
wanted to ask, but you guys were the only ones who had the guts.  So I
answered your questions.  Now half the people I know act like I'm some kind
of slut while the others still think I'm a freak."

   Her eyes started leaking, he reached out to touch her shoulder, and
suddenly found himself with his arms around her as she softly sobbed
against his neck.  It didn't take too long for her to regain some control.
The way she froze when he shifted told him she knew it wasn't a roll of
quarters in his pocket.  While she pulled away a little she didn't let go.
After a minute she broke the awkward silence.

   "Sometimes I wish I'd never said anything."

   "I's not your fault.  We asked."

   "I don't mean then.  Earlier.  I wish I'd never told anyone that he did
anything.  I was too embarrassed to say anything the first time.  I thought
maybe it was just a one time thing and it was over.  Then he did it again.
The third time I knew that he was going to keep on doing it until somebody
made him stop."

   "So you told?"

   "Sort of, I didn't really mean to, or maybe I did.  I told my best
friend at a sleep over after making her swear to keep it a secret.  She
told her mom, who called the cops.  I'm not mad at her.  I guess I knew
she'd tell."

   "They made him stop?"

   "I guess.  He's in jail for at least another six months.  He isn't doing
anything with girls."

   "But, if you had like a, 'do over', you wouldn't tell?"

   "Maybe.  I don't know.  It wasn't romantic, not like having a boyfriend.
The guy was older than my dad.  It wasn't even fun, for me anyway.  He
seemed to like it...  a lot.  Some of it hurt and all of it was super
embarrassing, but..."

   "But what?"

   "Why should you care?  You don't even like me."

   "I like you.  But if I tell you why I've been avoiding you, you'll think
I'm a creep."

   "If you're avoiding me anyway why would that matter?"

   "Ok.  Back when you were telling us what he did I, uh..."

   "You got hard, just like the other guys.  I noticed, no big deal."

   "Yeah, well, when you told us that perverts do it to boys too..."

   "You stayed hard.  The other guys didn't.  Ok, that's a little creepy,
not the first part.  If I'm talking about a pervert doing sex with me, and
you're *not* thinking about sex, that would be creepy.  If you're
embarrassed about getting hard just thinking about a pervert doing stuff to
you, maybe you can understand why boys don't tell when it happens to them."

   "So, you want to be friends?"

   "Maybe.  Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

   "Uh, would you?  Be my girlfriend that is?"

   She didn't answer in words but the way she pressed herself against him
sure didn't feel like no.  By the time Mary picked him up they'd exchanged
phone numbers and made plans to meet again next weekend.  It wasn't until
he was helping Bob clean cages on Monday that it occurred to him, not
everybody might be happy he had a new friend.

   "So, my girlfriend has a girlfriend.  You gonna tell her how hard you
get when I'm fucking you?  Will you compare notes on being a horny little
slut?  Are you done playing games with me?"

   "I still want to do stuff.  I didn't think you'd be mad at me."

   Bob sighed and continued in a softer tone.  "I'm not mad at you.  What
we do wasn't going to be a long term thing anyway.  Besides, you might
discover you'd rather catch than pitch.  I can always hope."

   "I guess.  We're almost done here.  I brought my glove if you want to
play catch."

   Bob finished coiling the hose and followed Timmy in where the buckets
were stored.  The boy wasn't quite so innocent as he'd been a few weeks
earlier.  When Bob tried to sneak up behind him Timmy turned and wrapped
his arms around the older mans neck.  There was something different.  Even
though he was expecting it, hell, he'd suggested it, it took a moment for
him to figure out what it was.

   "Ok, ya got me.  I wasn't far enough behind for you to put on lipstick
just now.  How long were you wearing it before I noticed?"

   *****

   "So?  What happened then?"

   "Mom!"

   "Well, I'm curious.  You don't have to tell me anything.  You didn't
have to get me involved at all.  But you asked me to show you how to apply
it.  Then you voiced some hesitation about wearing it.  Did it really turn
out to be the big thing you thought it would be?"

   "Oh...  You meant the lipstick."

   Timmy was sitting at the kitchen table.  Talking this way was still new
enough for both of them that they were working as much on how to say it as
what was said.  Bringing things up as she finished getting dinner ready had
worked well enough the first time that he'd continued it.  Some things were
easier to say to her back, especially if she had at least a little of her
attention focused on something else.

   Now Mary was glad to have something to cover her own discomfort.  She
recalled a time back in college when she and her roommate were both between
boyfriends.  One evening they'd shared a jug of cheap wine and some weed
while watching a gay porn video.  At the time they'd talked semi-seriously
about being open minded and non-judgmental.  Actually it was more simple
curiosity, at least at first.  By the end of the night she was certainly in
no position to pass judgment on anyone else's sexual preferences!  If Ellie
hadn't been such a total dick addict it might have become a regular thing.

   She'd been less innocent than many women when she walked in on her son
and his...  his what?  Any attempt to define their relationship in terms of
what they were doing required her to...  well...  She'd been telling the
literal truth about preferring a decent level of ignorance.  That video
years ago had been both amusing and strangely arousing.  But...  not her
*son*!  My God!  He was still a little boy.  He should be building models
and playing children's games.  She was hardly prepared for him to begin
noticing girls.  To have him doing this...  and mistakenly thinking she
wanted to quiz him about it!  At the same time she wanted to protect him
and realized that ignorance was not her friend.  She hadn't reached her
present position by shirking tedious or unpleasant details.

   "It was...  different.  Not the big deal I thought it would be, just
different.  I thought he was being really cool about it at first until I
found out he didn't notice I was wearing it.  After he noticed...  It's
hard to explain.  It's not like he was ready to jump on me every second. 
It wasn't even like when he lets me know it's, 'girlfriend time'.  But we
weren't just a couple of guys hanging out either."

   "What are you?  Usually?  I mean if we're standing in the driveway
talking and a neighbor walks up.  I can't just say this is Bob, my sons,
uh...

   "I don't know.  We talked about him being one of those, 'big brothers',
like in the TV commercials.  But if I'm being a girl that would make me,
like, his little sister..."

   "Stop!  I have a hard enough time not thinking about what you're already
doing.  I don't want to have to not think about that too."

   "I guess.  What do you call one of those guys that teaches kids?  Not
the classroom teacher, one on one?"

   "A tutor?"

   "Not that, the other one."

   "A mentor?"

   "Yeah, that's it.  I'm learning all sorts of stuff from him, not just...
you know."

   Mary thought it over for a minute.

   "Ok, that works for me too.  Uh, on the lipstick, does it look like it's
going to be a regular thing?  Should I buy you a tube in that shade?"

   "I guess.  It's kind of weird.  It isn't exactly hot but it's like a big
step closer to getting hot."

   "Uh-huh, I'd call it edgy.  Not horny yet, but like you could get horny
real fast."

   "That's it.  Uh, is that like a girl thing?  The guys I know, they talk
about this girl or that one being hot.  And, you know, wanting to do stuff
with her.  They never say anything about how fast they could get hot if
they had a chance to do something."

   "It might be.  I've never been a boy.  Listen hon, I'm glad I had you,
every day of my life.  Being a parent is the biggest thing that has ever
happened to me and I wouldn't give it up for anything.  But it isn't easy
and sometimes the hardest part is learning how to let go just enough for
now.

   "I carried you around inside me for nine whole months.  When I brought
you home from the hospital setting you down and walking away for a minute
was tough.  For a couple of years it seemed like you had another, 'first',
every time I blinked.  First time you rolled over, first time you slept
through the night, first word, first solid food, first crawl, first time
you stood up, first steps, after a while it slowed down.  But the firsts
got bigger, first time you crossed the street by yourself, first best
friend, first two wheeler.

   "All of those things had a risk of getting hurt.  Some of them I knew
you *would* get hurt.  But I knew I had to let you.  I couldn't keep you
bundled up in bubble wrap without smothering you."

   "You tried!"

   "I'm sure sometimes it seemed that way.  Maybe you're even right.  But
now you're reaching an age where I'm like a mother hen trying to raise a
baby duck.  My mom had it a lot easier."

   "How's that?"

   "She was raising an only daughter.  When I got old enough to be
interested in boys, she could tell me the things a girl needed to know
about them.  When a boy finally, uh, 'made me a woman', mom wasn't the
first one I told but it didn't stay a secret from her for long.  If I
hadn't walked in on you and Bob I don't think you would have said anything
to me about it."

   "It wasn't going on very long before you found out.  But yeah, it isn't
the kind of thing a guy tells his mom about.  It isn't something I'd tell
my friends or dad either if he was still alive.  Did you really talk to
your mom about doing it with guys?"

   "Yes.  There's something else I guess I should tell you.  After I found
out, I asked a gay man I know some questions.  So he knows about me walking
in on you."

   "MOM!!!"

   "Just for the record, he doesn't think you're gay.  He told me my
biggest concern should be making sure you don't let this thing with Bob
crowd out friendship with other people.  Sooner or later you'll get dumped
and when that happens it will be a lot easier if you don't feel like you're
losing your only friend.  What do you think?"

   "Billy will be back from visiting his uncle in another week.  Debbie
wants me to meet her at the mall on Sunday.  Bob told me I can hang out
there as much as I want but I don't *have* to go there at all."

   "Ok hon.  For now I guess that's about the best I can hope for."

   Part 3 (Mb, Fdom, Mdom)



   Bob nearly ran into him as Timmy froze inside the door to the kennel
supply area.

   "You're kidding right?  You don't really expect me to *wear* that?"

   Laid out in front of Timmy was a plain white blouse, cut for somebody as
flat chested as a boy, but still obviously girl clothes, not a shirt.  With
it was a pleated gray skirt, nearly knee length, real clothing, not some
micro mini.  Completing the set were knee socks and a pair of heels, only a
couple inches, lower than some cowboy boots.

   "Why not, Sport?  Fucking a cute little tomboy is fun, but if we're
pretending that I'm making a nice girl do stuff, dressing you up like a
nice girl is a good start, isn't it?"

   "I guess...  At least there isn't any girls underwear."

   "Yeah.  Well.  I wasn't sure what to buy.  A nice girl wouldn't be
wearing the skimpy lace porno stuff even if she was fucking some guy. 
Unless maybe making her wear it was part of what he was doing to her.  For
now I figure it's just as hot, maybe hotter, if you're not wearing anything
underneath."

   "Oh..."

   Bob thought it was cute when Timmy reached for his belt buckle then,
blushing, gathered up the clothes and ducked into the bathroom.  Not nearly
as cute though, as when *she* came back out.  He knew he was looking at a
boy in drag but it could just as easily have been a tomboy in unfamiliar,
"girl", clothes.  The tomboy would be just as awkward and nervous.  Bob had
to smile as he pursued the thought a little further.  The girl would be
uncomfortable at the idea of men seeing her as a potential sex partner. 
Timmy certainly didn't have *that* problem.

   "Wow.  Come over here by the grooming station.  It isn't a full length
mirror but it will give you a better idea what I'm looking at."

   If Bob hadn't already been about as hard as he could get, Timmy's
reaction to his mirror image would have got him there.  An initial cringe,
slowly replaced by fascination, before he softly muttered, "I'm gonna get
sooo raped."

   "Uh-huh, but there's no hurry.  Right now I'm kind of surprised by how
much of a kick I'm getting out of just looking at you.  You're so damn
cute. You could walk down the street like this and people would notice you
but only as a cute kid.  Some of the guys would think something like,
'She's gonna be really hot in a couple of years'.  A few pervo's would be
thinking, 'I'd play with that'."

   "Duh, I *guess*, at least until they found out I was a boy."

   "That wouldn't matter as much as you think.  A couple years from now
when you're jail bait, they'll care.  The pervs who like young kids are
looking for a cute face and a tight hole.  If there's a dick too...  the
straights will figure it's not really gay because they didn't bend you over
intending to fuck a *boy*.  The rest will get a bigger kick out of it.

   Timmy started to tremble with anticipation and maybe a little fear, as
Bob lowered his right hand and slipped it under the edge of the skirt. 
"Your thighs are so soft and silky, just like a young girl.  And you have
such a pretty little bubble butt under that skirt.  Your hardon poking the
front out like a tent only makes it a little more nasty.  You're as hot as
I am at the thought of a horny pervert raping such a sweet young girl. 
This time you don't just get to be the girl, you get to watch.  Did you get
ready for me while you were changing?  Is your tight little hole greased up
all nice and slippery?"

   "No...  I..."

   "You like it when I do that too?  It's fun sometimes.  I don't always
have a hardon and it doesn't always last as long as I'd like.  Not when I
have somebody as cute as you to stick it in.  Fingers are different.  Any
time, anywhere, they're always ready.  Sometimes I'm willing to delay my
own pleasure to watch you squirm while I'm invading your most personal,
private, place.  It's fun by itself and watching you blush as you think
about what it's leading up to is even better.

   "Today is special.  That pretty little girl in the mirror is so
different from what you usually see it's easy to pretend that it's not
really you.  At the same time you have total control over what she does and
will feel everything I do to her.  Reach behind you and lift the back of
her skirt.  Show me that she's not wearing any panties.  Oh yeah, now
spread her ankles...  farther...  That's it.  Get a grip on her naked ass
cheeks.  Don't let her skirt drop.  Open her up.  Let me see her little
pink ass hole.

   "Bend over and rest your chest on the grooming station.  That's it, only
get a little sideways so you can turn your head and watch the mirror. 
You'll see more than if we're straight on and your neck won't get tired. 
I've got nothing against pulling your hair to make you look at things you'd
rather not see, but this is going to take a while and I don't want to hold
your head up that long.

   "Ohhh yeah!  I love that involuntary flinch at the first touch of a
greasy finger on your tight little pucker.  It only takes an instant for
you to relax and accept what you can't avoid, but for that first tiny
moment your body knows what's coming and tries to get away.

   "Maybe it's more than your body reacting.  Sexual preference can be hard
to pin down but you're still mostly straight.  Being used this way can't be
easy for you no matter how much pleasure you get from being my horny little
fuck toy.  I don't care how deep you get into being the girl, that's not a
clit dangling between your thighs.  Does that thick greasy finger feel good
in your ass?

   "Yyes.  I, uh, I think I could handle two."

   "I know it.  You have before.  If that's really what you want I'll do
it. And when I have you all nice and loose and slippery, I'll pull them out
and ram my cock into you.  I'll rape my pretty little slut, hard, hot and
nasty.  I'll make you lick me clean and suck me 'til I'm ready to go again.
Then I'll fuck you 'til you can't hardly walk and slap a piece of duct tape
on your asshole to keep you from leaking on my seats while I haul you home
to mommy.  Or...  we could go with plan B.

   "What's that?"

   "I pull this single finger and finish opening you up with my dick.  We
can watch together the reflection of my hot little girlfriend as that awful
rapist slowly burrows his dick into her ass.  You can watch my pleasure as
I keep working it, fast enough to keep me hard but slow enough to keep from
cumming.  We'll stop and start.  We'll change positions.  If I go slow and
easy, with plenty of lube, I can force this sweet little girly boy to serve
a pervert *all* afternoon.  By the time I get you home, your mom will take
one look at you and wonder if she still has a son."

   "Oh God!  Please..."

   "What'll it be sport?"

   "Puh..  Plan B."

   *****

   Mary was rinsing some vegetables for dinner that Friday when she looked
out the window as the van pulled up to the curb and Timmy climbed out.  She
didn't have to be psychic, she didn't even need, "mothers intuition", to
see that something was drastically wrong.  A month ago she would have
dropped everything and met her son at the door frantically seeking an
explanation.

   Today her heart still went out to him.  Her eyes teared up until she had
to quit peeling carrots or risk peeling a knuckle instead, but she didn't
come running.  As much as she wanted to, she knew now that her only chance
to stay connected with her son was to wait for him to bring his troubles to
her.  She heard the shower start and stop, then the door to Timmy's room
close.  Telling herself it wasn't really snooping, she checked the laundry
hamper and found a blouse and skirt she'd never seen before tossed in with
the clothes her son had been wearing this morning.

   She wasn't as dazed as her son when she returned to the kitchen, but she
had some idea why he was.  At least once during her teen years a skirt with
similar stains had been part of her own laundry.  Never so *many* stains,
but then in her case there had been only one penis involved.  All she could
do is continue fixing dinner and hope that in this case it wasn't any more
than two.

   She had to threaten to come in and drag him out of his room before he
would join her for dinner.  His appetite wasn't very heavy but after he
realized she didn't intend to interrogate him he managed to relax enough to
eat.  It wasn't until she was occupied with cleanup that she found out what
was on his mind.

   "Uh, mom?  Can I ask you something kind of personal?"

   "Always hon, I may not give you an answer, but if I don't I'll at least
tell you why I don't think you need to know."

   "When you started doing stuff with boys, did you ever do something that
you felt kind of strange about...  afterwards?"

   "Timmy, there are things I did then that I *still* feel kind of strange
about, but don't expect me to give you a list.  Some of it I didn't even
tell my girl friends."

   "Oh...  Today...  At the kennel, Bob asked me to wear girl clothes."

   "I know.  The skirt is soaking.  I didn't want the stains to set."

   "Yeah, well, I guess you know then that we, uh, did it.  You know, like
I was a girl."

   "Yes hon.  From the condition of your clothes I would guess it was more
than once."

   "Uh, mom, you know how sometimes when a guy is doing stuff, he doesn't
want it to be over all at once?  Sometimes he'll kind of back off for a
while and cool down before he gets going again?"

   "Uh-huh, it's called edging or edge play."

   "Yeah, well, after I dressed up he had me get in front of this mirror.
That's when things went from strange to seriously super strange.  It's like
I was watching Bob rape this really cute girl.  Part of me felt sorry for
her because she had to do that stuff with this horny pervert guy.  At the
same time I was watching her and getting so horny I wanted to rape her
myself, not like beat her up and shove it in, just, like, it's my turn now.
Only I couldn't, because the girl in the mirror had my face.  It was
already my turn.  He was doing it to me.  But it still looked like he was
doing it to somebody else and I was getting so hot watching that I...  Well
I..."

   Timmy ground to a halt, blushing furiously.  As she slowly grasped what
he was trying to say Mary felt her own cheeks begin to heat.  It got even
worse when she recalled the hopelessly inadequate version of, "the talk",
she had researched and rehearsed for the day when she thought he was ready.
Now he needed advice and his experiences were so far beyond anything she
had imagined that she had absolutely no idea what to tell him.

   "Hon, I, Uh, I'm not sure what to tell you.  How...  well, how do you
feel about it?"

   "Sick, and creepy, and scared, and excited, and uh, even a little horny,
all mixed up."

   "Well, that much I can understand.  I'd be really worried right now if
you thought you had it all sorted out.  When you were little I spent a lot
of time thinking about the things you would face growing up and trying to
stay at least one jump ahead of you.  It wasn't too hard at first and I got
better with practice.  As you got older it was much harder to guess which
way and how far you'd jump.  You're a person, not a project.  The books and
articles talk about, "normal range", of behaviors.  They rarely mention the
normal ranges of parental behavior and how kids are supposed to cope with
it.

   "I'll have to do some research before I can decide how to deal with your
latest revelations.  I'm discovering my son is a square peg.  I'm not going
to try to whittle off the rough edges and hammer you into a round hole just
so *I* can have the satisfaction of saying you're, 'normal'.  Not if it
also means you're completely miserable.  On the other hand, I'm not about
to let you run wild because I'm afraid of stunting your development.  There
are some sorts of development that can and should be stunted as thoroughly
as possible.  For now I believe the best we can do is let it settle a bit
and take it from there."

   Mary left him flipping through the channels looking for something to
take his mind off the days events.  The phone in her bedroom might have
been a better choice but the one in the kitchen was closer and she didn't
know how much time she had.  When her office number rolled over to voice
mail she thought she'd missed him, until she recalled him mentioning he
never picked up the main phone.  She rarely had to call him, never from
outside the office, but a notebook in her purse had his extension.  He
picked up on the second ring.

   "Eye Tee, how can I amuse and confuse you?"

   "Harold?  It's Mary.  Do you remember that non-business matter we
discussed a while back?"

   "Nope.  I've completely forgotten it, along with my home phone number,
SSN, and the administrative password for the network server.  Yes, I'm
pulling your leg.  It's my way of telling you that as far as anyone else is
concerned the answer would be, 'what discussion?'.  So, how is your problem
child?"

   "Rapidly becoming more of a problem and less of a child.  Were you
planning to be in the office tomorrow?"

   "I hadn't planned on it.  Is there some reason we have to meet here?  I
sometimes get the feeling I live in this place."

   "I don't suppose it actually has to be there.  I need internet access to
do some research.  It's the sort of research I'd prefer not to do from an
account that has my name linked to it."

   "Oh..."

   "Harold?  Are you still there?"

   "Ms Anderson, before you say anything else, I'd like to remind you that
all public phone lines coming into this office are recorded and
periodically monitored for quality assurance purposes.  Further, there are
strict policy guidelines in place regarding exactly how the company
resources including internet access and paid employee hours may be used. 
With that understood, let me also say that I'm a salaried employee.  As
long as I meet the obligations of my job description, I'm free to exceed
them by offering to help other employees with their personally owned
hardware.  If you'd care to bring your laptop into my work area tomorrow,
say around ten?, I'd be happy to help you configure it for any sort of
specialized research you're planning."

   "Thanks Harold.  I have to drop Timmy at the kennel but should have
plenty of time to get there by ten."

   It was nine the next morning when Mary pulled into the kennel parking
lot just as an elderly woman finished unlocking the buildings front door.
Before either of them could get out of the car she strolled over and
introduced herself as Ingrid Nordstrom, the owners wife.

   "If this is Timmy, you must be Mrs.  Anderson.  We're back a little
early.  If you have a few minutes we need to talk.  Timmy?  Bob no longer
works here.  My husband Lars it tending to the dogs.  Would you give him a
hand, please?  After I've talked to your mom we can discuss whether you
would like to continue helping out."

   As he headed for the pens, Ingrid invited Mary into the office.

   "This will be easier if you sit over here where you can see my computer
screen."

   The screen was split into a half dozen images showing several views of
the premises.  As they watched Timmy move across the one showing the supply
storage room, Ingrid moved the cursor and clicked.  That view enlarged to
fill the screen as the prior image shrank to an icon in a lower corner with
one segment highlighted.

   "Bob came to us with good references and spent several weeks getting to
know our operation before we felt comfortable taking time off.  It's been
our first real vacation since our kids got old enough to start families of
their own.  Even with the references and training we wouldn't have left if
our eldest daughter hadn't set up an encrypted link to the server here. 
We've been able to check in and observe how things were going at any time.
Notice I said *able*.  Obviously if we wanted to spend all our time
watching the kennel there would have been no need to travel anywhere. 
While we told Bob that friends would be making random checks we did not
tell him that everything happening here was being recorded.  Perhaps that
was a mistake.

   "Yesterday afternoon I logged on in time to watch certain events I'd
prefer not to describe.  My husband and I were on the next flight home. 
After informing Bob that he had the weekend off and we'd discuss longer
term arrangements on Monday, I came in here and scanned the security videos
for earlier episodes of similar activity.  Regrettably, I found several."

   She opened a desk drawer and handed Mary a case containing an unlabeled
DVD.

   "All of the incidents have been copied to this disk, deleted from the
server drives, and the blank spots overwritten so nothing can be recovered.
I will cooperate fully with any police investigation but prefer to keep our
business separated from that.  My husband has not seen these videos and I
wish I hadn't either.

   "Your son is welcome here.  In fact my husband plans to offer him a paid
position part time, pending your approval.  Please let me know your
decision on that and your plans regarding other matters as soon as you
can."

   Having made as graceful an exit as the circumstances permitted, Mary
drove to the office.  She had been a little worried that some other
employee would be putting in a little extra time, but her car and Harold's
were the only ones in the lot.  She couldn't help a tiny smile as she
entered the over sized closet the company alloted the IT department.

   "You'd better hope none of the other people drive past Harold.  If they
know we're here alone together it might start some new rumors."

   His face split in a rare grin as he replied.  "Ah, the IT queer and the
company cougar, a match made in gossip mongers heaven!  I recognize the
laptop bag but what's that in your hand?"

   "I'm told it contains security camera video files.  While the lady who
gave it to me stopped short of an explicit description, she offered to
cooperate fully with the police if I decide to make a formal complaint. 
From that I'd guess it shows Bob engaged in conduct for which he could be
prosecuted.  The only reason I can think of that she would give it to me
instead of going to the police directly is that he's engaging in these acts
with my son."

   "Oh shit!"

   "Uh-huh, and it goes downhill from there.  From the time frame and her
determined avoidance of any mention of what was happening, it includes
events Timmy wanted to discuss last night.  If so, the plastic itself
should be rotting away as we watch.  The material really must be
indestructible."

   "That bad?"

   "I don't know.  I won't know until I watch this, and I can't.  Yes, I've
seen some of what they do together when I accidentally walked in on them.
If I had known what was going on I would have been literally incapable of
forcing myself to walk in on that.  If it were anybody else's child that
wouldn't matter.  But we're talking about *my* son.  His reputation, his
health, his entire LIFE may be on the line if I'm too squeamish to confront
the situation."

   "Well, how do you intend to handle it?"

   "You're going to think I'm some kind of monster.  Last night, after he
went to sleep, I went online looking for advice.  I guess some of my
queries were broad enough that they included the sort of search terms used
by people seeking this material.  The occasional image that came up was
less upsetting than I expected.  The huge volume of warnings about using a
personal computer to download such material frightened me away before I'd
seen very much.  I realize this is a lot to ask, but could you help me find
some of this material without risking a jail term?"

   "I'll...  Be...  Damned!!  You had me so fooled.  All your talk about
tolerance, that live and let live thing.  You're just a higher grade of
basher!"

   "What on earth are you talking about!?"

   "You decide you need access to child porn.  What's the first thing you
do?  Pick up the phone and call the gay guy.  Like it's just automatic that
anyone who's left hand drive is also a baby raping scum ball.  If you'd
been looking for little girls would you still have called me, or would you
have got on the horn to the chair of the PTA?"

   Mary blushed and wouldn't meet his gaze but she quietly continued.  "I
guess I deserve some of that, but not all.  I had a computer question.  So
I called the only guy I know who is more knowledgeable about computer
systems than I am about my own son.  I don't want to look at this stuff
anymore than you do, but I think I can handle looking at somebody else's
kid.  After I've had some time to get used to it, I'm pretty sure I can
talk with Timmy about his own situation without choking.  Maybe.  Right now
I'm not even certain that you won't turn me in."

   Staring hard at her for a long minute, he finally relaxed venturing a
slightly queasy smile of his own.  "Ok, I'll buy that.  I'm sorry I went
off on you but due to both my profession and preferences it's sort of a hot
button topic.

   "There is a small but growing segment of the internet called the deep
web, or the underweb.  It's composed of a network of sites that end in
,"onion", rather than com or net.  Obviously ordinary DNS servers won't
resolve these addresses.  They're accessible only through the onion router,
and known as the TOR network.  It serves a useful, even vital purpose.  If
you're a journalist in a country where censorship begins with having your
eyelids snipped off, so you have to watch while the authorities make an
example out of you, posting your stuff where they can discover your
identity by leaning on your ISP is a very bad idea.  If you've spent two
years on suicide watch in a military prison because you leaked proof your
government was engaged in war crimes, you begin to suspect there was a
better way to forward the information.  Child porn is the rallying cry but
there's loads of information most governments don't want the sheep to have.

   "I could set your laptop up for TOR browsing but it's not a good idea.
You do NOT want any of this stuff on a system you also use for work. 
Instead I'll set you up with a Tails CD."

   "A what?"

   "Tails, The Amnesic Incognito Live System.  Remember when you first
wanted to use your laptop for work, you had to bring it in here so I could
go over it?"

   "Yes, but I still don't understand everything you told me about what you
did to it."

   "And you still don't need to.  The two most important things were to get
rid of snoop ware that was sharing information you didn't want to share,
and to encrypt your hard drive.  That way if your laptop grows legs, they
might be able to get it going with a format and reload but we won't have
confidential business information out in the wild.  If you boot off of the
tails CD and store whatever you wish to keep on an encrypted memory stick
you'll go a long way towards keeping your ass out of jail.  While I'm
burning a Tails disk for you I'll set up an encrypted stick and copy the
contents of this DVD to it.  Honestly, if it contains what you think it
does I'll feel a lot more comfortable if it hits the shredder before it has
a chance to get mistaken for something else.

   "I'll give you the addresses of a couple of link pages.  You can start
your search there.  A couple of other tips, even with TOR don't connect
from an address tied to your name.  Don't connect where some passing
stranger might be able to look over your shoulder.  Find a private place
where you can reach a public Wi-Fi hot spot.  Register at a hotel after
looking for a room where you can reach the open Wi-Fi of the business next
door.  If you need a technical or biological question answered I'll try to
help, but would prefer you find answers through your own research and save
asking me as a last resort.  Deal?"

   "Deal!  Uh, Harold?  Are all IT nerds this sneaky?"

   "Only the good ones.  I suspect a fair percentage of us are frustrated
secret agent wannabes.  We may not have the looks or wardrobe.  We
certainly don't get the hot chicks.  But we have a lot better idea which
direction the bad guys are going to come from."

   When Harold saw her at work on Monday he got the distinct impression
Mary hadn't spent much of the weekend sleeping.  His suspicions were
confirmed when she sought him out after the last of her coworkers had left
for the day.

   "Harold, I owe you an apology.  I had no idea of the sort of material
that is being circulated.  If you thought I believed you were one of the
people creating and distributing that filth, you had every right to be
angry with me.  Some of the worst seems to be coming from a couple of,
'members only', sites.  I say, 'seems', because it is impossible to browse
those sites without becoming a member.  Any members that repost in other
venues are immediately locked out.  A few, very few, images and preview
clips that are heavily watermarked are out as teasers to recruit new
members.  They are quite obviously samples from larger photo sets or
videos. While I suspect these sites contain the exact images I'm seeking, I
can't figure out how to become a member.  They require uploading content
flagged for administrative inspection and approval.  Can you enlighten me?"

   "Yes, but you aren't going to like it.  For their own protection these
member sites try to keep law enforcement from becoming members.  They also
try to have content that will attract the members they want.  The easiest
way to kill two birds with one stone is to require potential members to
upload new, original, content.  Sort of a, 'you don't see ours until you
show us yours', thing.  While police have access to huge libraries of smut
they don't have original content.  If they do have something unique it's
probably evidence in a current investigation.  No law enforcement agency is
going to authorize uploading any file that isn't already in wide
circulation.  The heat they would take if a victim accused them of acting
like co-conspirators would destroy any positive PR they'd get from busting
a pack of pedophiles.  Have you examined the security camera video yet?"

   "I still haven't worked up the nerve."

   "I don't know the sites you're referring to but it's a safe bet that if
you want to download content similar to what you're holding, uploading some
of what you have would get you the access you seek."

   Mary went pale at the thought.

   "You can't be serious!"

   "I didn't say it would be a good idea.  I certainly didn't suggest that
you should.  If Timmy found out you had done something like that without
even consulting him, he'd probably strangle you.  I doubt if a jury would
convict him either.  I'm simply stating that you have the price of
admission if you ever decide it's a price you're willing to pay.  Maybe you
should ask him.  Sooner or later he needs to know you have those videos
even if you never manage to watch them.  He might even pick a couple of the
milder vids and give you permission to upload them if he believes having
access to the board will help you deal with his situation.  He might want
to see what's on there himself.  He's got to be feeling like some, 'one of
a kind', kid right now."

   "I hadn't thought of that.  Thanks...  I think."

   Later that week the last of the office crowd had logged off and Harold
started the install script for the first of the software upgrades.  It was
rare for any of the regular crew to work late on Friday and by starting
early he had the whole weekend to hammer out any glitches.  The script
would run for some time and he'd picked up a magazine when he heard a tap
at his office door.  He couldn't help smiling when he saw that it was Mary.
Anything she wanted to talk about had to be more interesting than
Technology Review.

   "So, how's pedomom doing?"

   "Please don't say that, not even as a joke.  There's CP uploaded by
somebody using that alias.  I have no idea if they're actually a mother or
even female, and don't care."

   "Sorry.  Did you find out what you wanted to know?"

   "I found out more than I wanted to know in the first ten minutes.  I
kept looking anyway.  There seems to be a pattern, like different levels or
niches of this stuff.  Some of it is totally heartbreaking.  Anything
involving very young children or physical force is...  I wish I could scrub
my eyeballs.  The older kids, mid to late teens, are so cute that I don't
think it should be illegal as long as it's kids circulating the stuff
amongst themselves.  The thought of horny old pervs watching and
masturbating is, well, icky.  Of the stuff in Timmy's age group there seems
to be a lot more boys than girls.  Much of it is boys experimenting.  I'd
planned to cover that with Timmy when I had 'the talk'.  From what I've
read it isn't unusual though I'm amazed at the number of kids making
videos. If you narrow the field to kids his age having some form of
intercourse with an adult, the ratio becomes even more skewed.  I didn't
make an actual count but the impression I got was somewhere between ten and
twenty boy vids for every one featuring a man and girl.

   "Of the hard core boy vids a few are still experimentation though
obviously more advanced.  A few are forced or less blatantly coerced.  The
majority appear to be more or less consensual.  I'd like to ask you a
rather embarrassing question."

   "You can ask.  I may tell you the answer is none of your damned business
but I won't bite your head off just for asking."

   "I'm not sure exactly how to say this.  I don't want to be crude.  Of
the boys in these videos, both Timmy's age and older, there didn't seem to
be anything romantic.  I guess what they were doing was evidence of some
sort of relationship, but none of them seemed to be making love.  They were
just...  fucking.  I realize you're not some kind of expert on sex with
underage boys.  I was wondering if it was my own bias reading what I wanted
to believe into the images, or if young men actually, uh, couple that
casually."

   "Very perceptive.  I'm starting to understand why you wanted to see
others before watching the vids of your own son.  Young men, even boys, can
fall in romantic love.  It doesn't happen as often as it does to girls but
it isn't unknown.  However, the biological side of puberty is much stronger
for boys.  They are much more oriented towards physical sensation than deep
feelings.  Girls his age use sex to try to win an emotional commitment. 
Boys his age do whatever, 'relationship maintenance', they need to get sex.
Things start to even out by the time everyone is into their twenties.  Have
you looked at the other videos yet?"

   "Yes.  I finally worked up the nerve to look at the first one.  Timmy
wasn't thrilled to find out that they exist.  He wasn't as upset as I
thought he would be about me watching.  For the record, yes it was
consensual, though I had to ask him in order to be certain.  There was no
sound on the recording.  And no, it wasn't exactly romantic.  Not
surprising really.  From what he tells me that first video was actually his
first time.  If so he did better than me.  At least his first experience
resulted in an orgasm.  Uh, more than one before they finished.

   "He didn't really pitch a fit until I suggested the possibility that I
might want to show it to somebody.  We tossed it back and forth for a while
and, 'compromised', on what I actually wanted from the start.  I've edited
a five minute clip, cropping it down and blacking details that might
identify people or place.  While I no longer *need* to see one of those
members only sites, the knowledge that it's there and I'm locked out is so
aggravating I'm willing to take a chance.  I know I'm asking a huge favor,
and I'm not sure I'd want to know what you think of me right now, but would
you view the clip and make sure it really is as anonymous as I believe it
to be?"

   "You want me to look at child porn?  A video of your *son*?"

   "I want to make sure that nobody *else* could possibly identify who or
where he is from the clip, before I put it anywhere I'll lose control of
it."

   "Well, when you put it that way I guess I could help you out, for his
sake if not your own."

   "Thank you.  Uh, if it isn't too much trouble, there's one other thing.
If it's possible to tell from the video could you give me your impression
of whether my son is straight or gay?"

   Part 4 (Mb, bb, Mdom, Fdom)

   "You're kidding right?  I mean even if you did something like that, and
you decided to tell me about it, there's just no fuckin' way you'd tell me
in front of your girlfriend!"

   Billy was back in town after his annual visit to his uncles farm.  Timmy
had to admit, his friend had a point.  The event had been a shock. 
Certainly nothing he'd talk about in front of a *girl*.  At least he
wouldn't have back when Billy left for his uncle's place.  There had been
some massive changes since then.  If he couldn't get his friend to believe
the simple facts about how he'd lost his virginity, there was no hope of
getting him to accept the other things.  Besides, was it really so hard to
believe if you took it one step at a time?

   The three of them were kicked back on a South facing hillside at the
park.  Even with the money coming in from his part time job he couldn't
live at the arcade.  Debbie was with him because they had become nearly
inseparable almost from the moment he'd asked her to be his girlfriend. 
Billy was there because they had been best friends for so long neither of
them could imagine not hanging out together unless one or the other had
been dragged away to some other event.

   "C'mon Billy, think for a minute.  This is like a really super huge
thing for me.  There is no fuckin' way I wouldn't tell you about it.  Ok,
talking about it in front of a girl is strange, but this is *Debbie*, not
some stuck up cheerleader or candidate for homecoming queen.  Remember that
day at the bus stop?  The whole idea for this came from what she told us
there."

   "Ok, I can believe that.  But the idea you're talking about could be
finding out how hard you have to pull my leg before it comes off in your
hand.  Do you really expect me to believe you let some creepy old *guy*
fuck you?"

   "From the things you said about your uncle I was half expecting you'd be
telling me first.  Is it really so surprising that I would give it a try?
Especially after he made it clear that something was going to happen no
matter what?"

   "Yeah well, stringing him along until you have a chance to run is one
thing.  Getting back in his van after he let you out, after you knew what
he wanted, that's just too much to believe."

   "I guess I know what you mean.  If a total stranger pulled up while I
was riding my bike and asked if I wanted to fuck, it would take me about
two heartbeats to point the thing somewhere a car couldn't go.  At least
that's what would have happened before Bob.  Now I'm not so sure.  I mean I
probably wouldn't go with him, but it wouldn't be a reflex thing, I'd stop
to think about it."

   "You're really serious?  You actually did it...  with a guy?"

   "Uh-huh, more than once.  I, uh, I kind of like it."

   "You're telling me my best friend in the whole world is a queer?"

   "NO!  I get hot for girls.  I'm hoping me and Debbie will get to that.

   "We will, but you have to give me some time."

   "That's ok, I wasn't talking like later this afternoon."

   "Look you guys.  I'd love to stay and listen to you working this out,
but you're both going to have an easier time if I'm somewhere else for a
while.  I'll meet you after work tomorrow Timmy."

   In a tee bar and denim shorts Debbie was cute enough the boys weren't
the only ones watching her climb on her bike and take off.  It wasn't until
she was out of sight that Timmy continued talking to his friend.

   "So you're telling me all that man on man stuff you talk about when you
get back from your uncles place is bullshit?  Do you really expect me to
believe somebody *told* you all that stuff without trying to get you
involved in it?"

   Billy blushed and looked everywhere except at his friend.  "I'm not
queer."

   "Neither am I."

   "But you..."

   "Just let me talk.  Ok?  Remember how Debbie described it?  The creeps
who do kids don't really care if it's a girl or a boy, as long as it's a
kid.  When Bob got me alone he was looking for a girl, and decided to use
me instead.  This is going to sound really weird but I already said too
much to shut up now.  After Debbie told us about it I started wondering
what it would be like.  Not doing it with a homo.  Having some guy who
didn't care that I had a dick use me in place of a girl.

   "The first time was more scary than anything else.  But it wasn't *that*
scary, and he made me cum.  I guess I liked it.  At least I liked it enough
to do it again.  We, uh, made a deal.  He would make me cum any time I
wanted it, if I promised to quit jacking off."

   "You mean you..."

   "Not for over a month now.  It's been more than a week since the kennel
owners came back from vacation and fired Bob.  If I don't find somebody to
do stuff with soon I'll have to jack off or go nuts."

   "What's the big deal about not jacking off?"

   "What's the longest you went without doing it since you learned how?"

   "Uh, about a day and a half."

   "Trust me.  The longer you go without popping a load the bigger the
thrill when you finally do.  You know how much better it feels to have
somebody else get you off.  Or was it all bullshit and you're really still
a virgin?"

   "I'm not a virgin."

   "Then you know.  If you combine somebody else doing it to you with not
doing anything for at least a couple days, it feels so damn good you
wouldn't go back to jacking off unless you knew for certain there wasn't
anything better coming your way."

   "Somebody should tell my uncle.  When I'm there he does it at least once
a day.  Sometimes I cum.  Mostly it isn't so bad, or maybe I'm just used to
it not being any good.  The stories I told you?  About how great it is to
do this or that?  I'm repeating what he said about doing it.  If you're the
guy he's doing it to, it's no big thrill.  At least it isn't for me.  Maybe
you should go stay with him next summer."

   "Uh-uh, by then I'm gonna be doing Debbie.  Actually I lied.  I was
thinking about later this afternoon if I could talk her into it.  I'm just
about ready to go totally fuckin' nuts."

   "I hear you about Debbie.  If she wasn't already your girlfriend I'd
want to go after her myself.  She's hot."

   "Yeah?  How'd you like to get her alone somewhere, like maybe that spot
we found not too far off the hiking trail.  Then get her down on all fours
and stick your dick in her mouth.  When she has you all hot, and hard, and
about one good sneeze away from popping your load you could move around
behind her.  It wouldn't take long to pull those tight shorts and whatever
is under them down around her knees.  If she was just slobbering on your
pole you wouldn't even need lube.  Spit on her ass hole a couple of times
and ease it in slow..."

   "STOP!  Stop dammit, one more word and I'll have blue balls so bad I
can't walk!"

   "Yeah, well, she isn't here...  But, uh, I am.  Like she told us at the
bus stop, boys have mouths and ass holes too.  If we're both thinking about
what we'd like to be doing with her, is it really that queer?"

   "You want me to fuck you?!"

   "No.  If I thought you wanted to fuck *me*, that would be too weird. 
Right now though, I'm so horny that if Bob showed up I'd have trouble
keeping my pants up long enough to get somewhere private.  If you want to
fuck some girl, Debbie or anybody, so bad you're ready to stick it in any
hole you can get.  I, uh, I'll let you do it to me instead."

   "That spot by the hiking trail?"

   "Too risky, I'd totally fuckin' *die* if somebody caught us doing it. 
Mom won't be home for at least an hour.  Lets go to my place."

   "What if she comes home early?"

   "We'll be in my room.  She doesn't come in without knocking.  If I'm not
alone she won't come in unless I ask her to."

   *****

   Mary noticed the bikes dropped on the lawn and frowned for a moment.  It
made the place look trashy but she could hardly complain after bugging
Timmy for so long not to leave his on the driveway.  While she was putting
away the groceries she'd picked up on her way home from work she overheard
some very muffled but slightly frantic conversation.  She'd thought the
other bike belonged to Debbie but wasn't that surprised to see Billy come
out of her sons room and make a bee line for the front door.  A glance in
that direction caught her boy still tucking in his shirt tail.  Combine
that with the way his friend was, "blushing and rushing"...  Before Timmy
noticed her leaning in the kitchen doorway with her arms folded, she had
formed a pretty good idea of what they'd been up to.

   "Uh, mom?  Please don't smile like that.  I mean really...  just don't!"

   By the time her smirk had blossomed into a full blown grin he was
practically in tears.  The sight of him that obviously distressed might
have been enough to put a chill on things all by itself.  Knowing why he
was so upset stirred something in her that she didn't want to examine too
closely.  Ok, enough was enough.

   "I'm sorry hon.  That sort of teasing is cruel enough it's misleading to
call it teasing.  It's just that with everything that's been going on, it's
almost a relief to run into something I was expecting."

   "You were *expecting* me to...  With my best friend?!"

   "Well, when you say it like that...  I mean it's not like I have some
parental check list.  There isn't a line for, 'sex with another boy', in
between, 'learn to masturbate', and, 'first real girlfriend'.  It also
isn't a universal thing the way masturbation is.  If a boy makes it to
sixteen and *doesn't* figure out how to pleasure himself his parents should
probably start to worry.  I won't say most boys experiment on sleep overs
and camp outs, but many of them do to one degree or another.  I doubt if
very many of them go as far as you and Billy did.  From everything I've
heard and read though, it's still within the range of normal adolescent
behavior."

   "You really don't care if we...?"

   "Of course I care!  I'd be much happier if you found a nice girl and
never did anything with a man or boy again.  I don't see that happening any
time soon, do you?"

   "Uh, I guess not."

   "Ok.  My biggest concern was that Bob would distract you from building
relationships with your peers.  After he left I started to worry you would
do something insanely risky just to hook up with somebody.  Oh, by the way,
the same rules apply with Billy, or with Debbie if things get that far. 
Limit your activities to your bedroom, the game room downstairs, or
someplace equally private and secure.  Understand?"

   "Yes mom, are you done?"

   "If you mean pushing you around and trying to run your private life, yes
I've pretty much finished, at least for now.  After all I'm still your
mother.  If you want to grab a chair in the kitchen while I get dinner
started, there are some things I'm curious about.  I don't want to
interrogate you.  You're free to say no thanks and go on about your
business.  In fact you probably should.  Most boys would rather die than
talk about this stuff with their mom."

   It took him a while to settle down.  Mary was glad to have an excuse to
keep her back mostly towards him.  The smile her son found so upsetting
kept threatening to return.  Simply by suggesting he'd want to avoid it,
she had him anchored in that chair and more ready to answer questions than
if she'd used straps and truth serum.

   "When you and Billy were, uh, together, did you find it enjoyable?"

   "Mom!  Oh geez..  Yeah, I came.  He did too."

   "I'm glad, but that isn't exactly what I was asking.  I guess it's a lot
different for girls.  We're slower to get started, especially at first. 
Orgasms are great, but take a lot more practice.  Often we'll do things
with a guy that aren't very enjoyable or pleasurable, because we like him
for other reasons.  Sometimes we'll be with a guy and the whole experience
will be enjoyable even if the physical part of it isn't that pleasurable.
Sometimes it's more of a physical thing.  We'll put up with a guy we don't
like all that much to get the physical release of a good strong orgasm. 
It's best when you can have both together.  That's why I was curious. 
Would you say your experience with Billy was enjoyable, as well as being
physically pleasurable?"

   "Oh...  Yeah...  It felt good, but it was fun too.  I guess I enjoyed
it."

   "How about your, uh, role play with Bob?"

   "That was...  Different."

   "I'll say!  My friend thought so too, just from looking at the edited
clip."

   "I hope I never meet the woman you showed it to!"

   "The man, well sort of.  He's gay, but he's not into kids.  I already
discussed you and Bob with him.  Besides, I was asking him to check my
editing and make sure nobody could tell from the video who it was or where
it was happening.  And, well, something else.  I asked him if he could tell
from the video whether you were gay."

   "Like, a twelve year old boy getting fucked by a grown up pervert, I
wonder what he told you."

   "He said what you were doing didn't have a damn thing to do with your
sexual preferences."

   "What?!"

   "Yeah, it surprised me a little too.  I'm not a total dummy.  I can
understand that things aren't always what they look like.  But I thought he
would be able to tell.  It made sense after he explained.  Any guy who's
horny enough will do whatever it takes to get a load off.  Men in prison or
doing an extended time in any environment where women are scarce will
eventually begin seeking release with each other.  Most will find the
experience pleasurable.  Some will find it enjoyable as well.  They aren't
gay.  Put them back in a normal environment with the usual gender ratio and
they'll be too busy chasing girls to look at another man.  Even the ones
who enjoy an occasional homosexual encounter on the outside aren't really
gay.  They're just recreating an enjoyable experience, not demonstrating a
preference.

   "It works in reverse too.  A gay man who marries a woman with a low sex
drive as, 'camouflage' will sometimes find himself having intercourse with
her often enough to keep her happy, just because she's there.  In some of
these marriages she knows where he is and what he's doing when he's late
getting home from work.  I know of one pair of couples like this that get
together on the weekends with the guys having fun and the women swapping
meatloaf recipes."

   "That is completely weird."

   "Maybe, but they're not harming anyone and as long as they're happy it
really isn't anyone else's business.  To get back on topic, my friend also
said there was no way anyone could tell from information in the video, who
you are or where to find you.  So...?"

   "No way!  I don't care how careful you were or how close he looked it
over.  You *can't* be serious about putting a sex video of me on some
public web site!"

   "It isn't public.  It's members only."

   "Yeah...  Right...  How many members?  A thousand?  Ten thousand?  I
wanted to freakin' die when I found out *you* walked in on us.  Do you have
any idea how embarrassing it would be to have Bob do it to me in front of a
crowd that big?"

   "Ok hon, maybe you have a point.  I certainly wouldn't want you doing
anything in front of strangers who know what your face looks like and where
to find you.  This isn't like that.  Even if the site has ten thousand
members, they would be from all over the planet.  The odds of one of them
living in this town are like a half million to one.  The video itself could
be any boy anywhere.  Every pervert in town could download a copy and
nobody would have any idea it's you.  You could go door to door asking for
signatures on an anti-porn petition and none of the creeps would recognize
you.  We have a few minutes while dinner cooks, come with me."

   Mary led him to the desk in her bedroom and booted her laptop, bringing
the secure browser online and unlocking the encrypted memory stick.

   "I wouldn't normally do this from here, but one of our neighbors who
isn't home this time of day left his WiFi unlocked.  We have our own
connection and I expect you to use it, but not for this.  Ok, here's the
site I told you about.  First I log in.  The user name and password are
restricted right now.  It only lets me get to this upload page.  Now, we
make sure the video file is the edited one, not the original that hasn't
been cropped or blacked.  It should be the only one in the upload directory
but it can't hurt to check again.  Yep, it's the right one.  So, I link to
it with the browser from the upload page..."

   "MOM!  STOP!  I...  I can't believe you're doing this!  You're my
*mother* for chrissake.  How could you?!"

   "Oh, don't get your undies in a bunch hon.  I'm just showing you how it
works and getting things set up.  I could never actually click on the
upload button."

   "Thank God!  But why bother to set it up if you're not going to make the
final click?"

   "Because you will."

   "Wha...  You...  You're crazy.  My mom has gone fuckin' nuts!"

   "Calm down hon and listen for a minute.  Most of your life you have been
an average boy.  I've been the average parent, and that has worked well
enough.  You've made some mistakes and so have I but nothing a lot of other
people haven't done as well.  Being a single mom has made it a little
tougher for both of us.  That's the way life plays out sometimes.  I didn't
have a husband to answer the questions I couldn't.  There were books,
magazines, and now there are web sites that can at least give me answers
that other people have found to the problems I'm dealing with.

   "Then one morning I forgot my purse and came back to discover you
engaged in behavior that was, wildly, radically, *not* average."

   "I'm sorry."

   "That's all right.  Just listen for now.  From that point forward I've
been engaged in a mad scramble to acquire coping skills I never expected to
need.  I've been forced to examine aspects of human behavior I'd have been
happier knowing nothing about.  I suppose I could have called the cops and
turned you over to a shrink.  If you'd like we can still do that.  My best
hasn't been good enough, maybe professionals can do better.  If you decide
not to go that route, I'll continue doing the best I can for you.

   "Unfortunately enough people find what you're doing so offensive it has
been made illegal.  Not just the acts themselves, pictures or videos of the
activity, and in some places even written descriptions are a prosecutable
offense.  If you insist on doing these things I can't stop you.  I can make
an effort to keep you out of trouble.  To do that I need to know how the
other people doing this stuff stay out of trouble.  I've learned quite a
bit already.  Most of the images of children that are freely circulated
were created by people who are now behind bars.  I can tell you a dozen
ways to get caught.  I need advice from people who are still free and
intend to remain so.  I can't tell you for sure that I will find these
people on this members only site.  At this point it looks like the best
possibility.

   "To keep out law enforcement and other crusaders, they require potential
members to upload new and unique content.  Police have tons of confiscated
porn of every description.  Most of it is already widely circulated.  They
cannot upload anything, 'new', without committing a greater crime than the
people they seized it from.  I don't *need* access to this web site.  I'm
not going to get angry or punish you if you refuse.  I strongly believe
that the other members of this site can help us both deal with what you
have gotten yourself into.  The only way they will accept me as a peer they
can trust is if you click on that upload button."

   For a long moment Timmy stood there, staring at his moms laptop and
hugging himself as if he'd been hit in the gut.

   "You really cleaned it so nobody could tell it's me?  You're not worried
at all about getting caught?  You're sure you'll learn stuff you need to
know?"

   "Yes."

   Slowly, he reached out, jabbed the button under the touch pad, and
watched the upload start.

   "Thanks hon.  This is going to take a while and dinner should be ready.
We might as well eat.  I have no idea how long it will take whoever
administers the site to review the upload and adjust my access."

   The upload completed while they were eating.  While she wasn't sure what
to expect when she checked the next morning, she certainly didn't expect
the message that was waiting for her.

   "Nice try, but we're serious about uploads being *original*.  We already
have this one.  If you have more please upload.  He's cute."

   It took Mary a few moments to reach the only possible conclusion.

   "That no good, low down, sanctimonious, hypocritical, *BASTARD*!"

   Part 5 (Adult Discussion, Mild Fdom)

   Mary didn't intend to be the first one in at work.  After getting up
early to check her user status on that restricted site and being so angry
at what she found, she drove a little faster than normal as well.  She
certainly didn't expect Harold to be there ahead of her.  He did so much of
his job after hours that he often wasn't in before lunch.  Since he was the
person she most wanted to tear into at the moment she didn't pause to
consider why he was here.

   "Good morning.  You're in awful early."

   "Not.  I ran into some issues and pulled an all nighter."

   "Right...  Now tell me with a straight face that's all you were pulling
you pervert."

   "Ah, that's it.  I thought it would take you a lot longer to upload that
file.  Actually I wasn't sure you'd ever work up the nerve to do that to
your own son.  So, I went ahead and did it for you."

   "Yeah...  Sure...  You just happened to know which web site I was going
to send it to and got there ahead of me.  How long have you had my laptop
bugged?"

   "Bugged?  Don't be ridiculous!  After all the time I spend on it at work
do you actually think I'd waste my free time snooping on other peoples
systems?

   "It occurred to me that if you did upload that file, it would probably
just be the first.  Soon you would want access to other boards and that
video would already be on them.  There might not be much leakage from
member sites to the open web, but anything good spreads through closed
sites at the speed of light.

   "I didn't guess which site you wanted to access.  I did a quick search
and uploaded the file to the first four sites that matched your
description. It would have been more but by the time I found a fifth site
the video was already on it!  There's a sealed envelope on your desk with
four user names and passwords."

   He handed her a folded note.

   "Here's a list of the sites.  If the one you wanted isn't on it, don't
worry about it.  The same people post on all of them."

   "For somebody who keeps insisting that he has no interest in this stuff
you sure seem to know a lot about it."

   "I was interested in computers before there even were personal
computers. I've been gay longer than that.  It shouldn't come as a surprise
to you that I had one of the first gay oriented BBS's in the region. 
Security wasn't much of a problem at first.  Techies tend to be a little
more, 'live and let live', than the general population.  As computer use
spread the percentage of online bashers started to match what was in the
real world.  I had to start screening content and restricting access or
reload the board a couple times a week.  Eventually running the board got
to be too much work.

   "The biggest headache was screening content.  The legal line between
erotica and porn is some judge saying, 'I know it when I see it.' An act
that is perfectly legal to portray and circulate if the participants are
hetero or female is often prosecutable if committed by men.  Throw in age
of consent issues and it becomes a complete nightmare.  While girls mature
faster emotionally boys tend to suffer from runaway hormones more.  I've
heard there are middle aged married women that have never had an orgasm. 
If a boy makes it to the legal age of consent without having one he's some
sort of medical oddity.  I wouldn't go so far as to say a higher percentage
of gay men are active pedophiles, but a much higher percentage of
pedophiles are, 'gender neutral', taking whatever they want wherever they
can get it."

   "Uh-huh, sure, so if a middle aged man who is openly gay wants to take
Timmy on a camping trip I've got nothing to worry about?"

   Harold grinned.  "You shouldn't be any more worried than if you sent
your twelve year old daughter off with a known heterosexual."

   The rest of the office crowd started arriving about then and Harold left
to catch up on missed sleep.  It wasn't until quitting time several days
later that they talked again.

   "Uh, Harold, you're not one of those gays that uses, 'basher', the way
other minorities play the race card are you?  It seems like every answer
I'm finding opens a can of new questions.  I'd like to discuss it with you
but if I have to pussyfoot around to keep from being called a bigot I'd
rather not get into it."

   "I understand where you're coming from.  When people talk about the,
'gay community', they often don't realize that it isn't any more
homogeneous than other groups linked by a single common interest.  There is
finally some acceptance of the fact that we do exist.  There's a growing
pool of people that believe we have as much right to exist as any other
group.  This acceptance is recent enough that there still isn't a
recognized and accepted 'gay lifestyle'.  Many of us are almost as annoyed
by the more vocal supporters of, 'gay rights', as we are by the rednecks
that use faggot as a general purpose insult.  Sometimes there seems to be
more controversy and divisiveness within the gay community than in the
surrounding population.  It's natural I suppose.  My sexual preferences
really aren't an issue to anyone who doesn't share them.  At least they
shouldn't be."

   "We're on the same page so far.  The last time we talked you used a
camping trip as an example.  You said I shouldn't be any more concerned
about Timmy being alone with a homosexual than I would if he were female
and with a heterosexual.  I now believe you're a little unrealistic.  I
don't think preference has anything to do with the strength of a persons
sex drive, but boys and girls *are* different.  Those differences *do* have
some influence on whether or not anything will happen.  If it's consensual,
boys are more willing to experiment.  If it's non-consensual to whatever
degree, boys are less willing to tell.  While there have always been an
unknown percentage of boys being molested, the social stigma of engaging in
homosexual activity has been heavy enough to keep them quiet about it. 
Even when they were literally caught in the act, their unwillingness to
come forward and make a formal complaint, much less testify, made
prosecution unlikely.  I'm not saying that being gay makes you a rapist. 
I'm saying that the odds a pass will get a positive reception, or at least
not generate negative repercussions, has some bearing on whether or not the
pass gets made in the first place."

   "Yeah, well, I guess I did push it a little farther than I intended. 
Like I said, it's a hot button topic for me.  What else is on your mind?"

   "It revolves around the age of consent.  I'm not an idiot.  Laws that
try to enforce a particular version of morality are either unnecessary or
doomed from the start.  There is a huge disconnect between public morality
and what private individuals actually practice.  Your comment about an
eighteen year old boy who has never had an orgasm being some sort of
medical oddity is a good example.  I'm trying to get a feel for what is an
appropriate age for the sort of activity Timmy is engaging in.  The forums
I'm browsing seem to polarize.  Whatever male is posting regards the sexual
activity he enjoys to be appropriate for whatever age partner he finds most
attractive.  The information from the boys Timmy's age is much less and
usually second hand.  Few of the boys are posting to these forums directly.
In fact, from comments and replies I'd bet that most of the posters
claiming to be boys in their early teens are actually law enforcement."

   "You're probably right.  If so, they're telling the pedo's what they
want to hear rather than passing on the opinions of actual teen boys."

   "Ok, I'm going to be blunt and hope you'll give me an honest answer. 
You've seen the picture of my son that I have on my desk.  You've also
watched video of him with a grown man.  Do you find him attractive?  Would
you consider yourself an average gay male?  Is the video something the
average gay male would find arousing?"

   "Ok, I'm going to take a chance also instead of, uh, pussyfooting
around. If you end up thinking less of me, well, right now you aren't
exactly some paragon of motherhood yourself.  Your son is very, VERY, cute.
I don't feel any strong emotional attraction to juveniles of either gender.
So I probably wouldn't be trying to date him regardless of my sexual
preference.  A relationship requires some degree of parity in a lot of
areas, not just age.  The nature of the relationship determines how much
and what areas.  For the elusive long term relationship that everyone says
they're looking for I'd need a person who shares many of my interests.  For
a purely physical hook up, attractive and horny is good enough.  Yes, I
consider myself to be an average gay man.  Yes, I found the video of your
son to be fairly hot.  The only thing that kept it from being hotter was
the editing.  While it was absolutely essential that you anonymize it
before sharing, that process also depersonalized it enough to tone it down
somewhat."

   "What do you mean?"

   "Back when I hosted that BBS a few individuals tried to upload some
pretty lame stuff.  One that still sticks in my mind was a young boy, maybe
early teens but could have been even younger.  He was prone on a dark
blanket.  The camera had been zoomed in until his head and lower legs were
out of the frame.  An adult male had anal intercourse with him.  Actually,
intercourse is too nice a word for what happened.  They weren't even
fucking.  From the way the kid moved he was drunk or drugged until he was
only semi conscious.  The kid had been reduced to a slab of meat some creep
was using to masturbate.  There are people who find that sexually exciting.
I'd rather not be in the same room with them.  On a scale of one to ten, it
was flat on the ground looking up at a one that was way out of reach.

   "There was another on the opposite extreme that wasn't visibly sexual at
all.  It was a montage of clips featuring a couple of boys in their mid to
late teens.  They were doing normal kid stuff like biking, playing catch,
or splashing in a backyard pool.  While it was obvious they were good
friends, they weren't acting like lovers.  What made the video so hot was
the middle aged woman doing a voice over.  She was describing how she had
walked in on them and discovered they were, uh, friends with benefits. 
While men are the primary market for porn, few women would pass up the
opportunity to watch a pair of attractive young men have sex.  After they
got past the shock and embarrassment of being caught, they allowed her to
watch while they completed the act.  Since then they had invited her to
observe on several occasions, having found that a female voyeur was an odd
sort of thrill they both enjoyed now and then.  While she never appeared on
camera and didn't say so, I got the strong impression she was the mother of
one of the young men.  Most of her commentary was explicit descriptions of
things she had watched them do to each other.  Then again, none of the
video was even slightly risqu?.  The whole voice over might have been
nothing but some cougar fantasy.  Either way it was really hot.  If you
have to cum in your pants to make it a ten, this was at least a nine point
eight.

   "The edited clip of Timmy was no better than a four or five.  There was
participation but nothing to make it personal and you have to admit it was
video of some rather personal moments.  The raw footage would have been
much hotter, maybe a seven.  If Timmy himself added a voice commentary to
it we'd be talking an eight at least."

   "What would get it to ten?"

   "That would depend on the person watching it.  For me it would be making
it less explicit and more personal.  I'd want to see facial expressions and
hear how they interact.  They wouldn't have to be making love, but
intercourse on more than the physical level would be a huge improvement. 
Good sex is much more than erections and orifices.  Your son isn't an actor
and some pros have a hard time looking relaxed and natural in front of a
camera.  Candid video, where he doesn't know he's being recorded, but
better quality than the surveillance camera would be nice."

   "Ok, I'm going to ask a couple of favors.  You said I'm not exactly a,
uh, 'paragon of motherhood'.  Maybe you're right.  I'm certainly not the
supermom you see in all the homemaker magazines.  Think about it for a
while and tell me how you think one of those women would handle this
problem.  My best guess is that she would bail.  Maybe not physically as in
clean out the checking account and run for the hills, but she'd hand it
over to the cops and therapists.  The closest she'd get to trying to cope
is a prescription for antidepressants.

   "On a related note I'd like you to think about ways I can discourage
some of his more outrageous activities.  What he's doing is risky.  If he
gets caught he could do a great deal of harm to himself and others.  Even
if he's discrete, I'm not comfortable with the health risk of this sort of
activity.  It's really too bad that the problem is sexual in nature."

   "Why is that?"

   "If it was anything else, I could just tell him to do exactly what he
intended to do anyway and he would immediately stop."

   "Ah yes, the thought process of teenage boys, I remember it well.  This
isn't so simple.  You might be able to divert him to more acceptable
behavior.  Once a boy has become sexually active stopping just isn't an
option."

   "He's working at the kennel from eight to noon.  I have a few personal
days on the books.  If you would care to stop by tomorrow around ten, I'd
like for you to view the unedited version of the video I had you check for
me.  I would greatly appreciate any suggestions you could make regarding
ways to, uh, divert him towards more acceptable behavior.  What would
supermom do?"

   "It would be easier if you just gave me a copy of the file."

   "Not a chance!  Don't take it personally.  It isn't a matter of trust,
or I would never have discussed this with you.  Once any information is out
of my hands there is no telling where it will end up.  I told Timmy the
odds were less than one in half a million that some other person with
access to that web site might live in this town.  That's true as far as it
goes.  There are over three hundred registered sex offenders inside the
city limits.  To be fair, they aren't the people he should be most worried
about."

   "Really?"

   "Uh huh, most of them were convicted of offenses that would lead me to
believe my son isn't a particularly enticing target for further activity.
Besides, these are the ones that have been *caught*.  How many guys like
Bob are out there for every one that has been convicted and registered? 
Ten?  A hundred?  Nobody seems to know.  How many *inactive* pedophiles are
out there for every one that is actually doing stuff to kids?  How many
guys like yourself?"

   "Did you just call me a pedo?"

   "I said, 'inactive'.  If you were spending your lunch break in the park,
so you could guy watch while crunching some calories, you wouldn't be
looking for short stuff.  Timmy and his friends would pass completely under
your radar.  I'm not the least bit worried that you would make any attempt
to seduce him.

   "However, I'm aware that you find him quite attractive.  If you were
alone with him.  If you were certain that whatever happened would not be
reported to the authorities.  If he gave you reason to believe that
seduction wasn't necessary, the attention was welcome.  I'm confident you'd
be on him like white on rice as fast as you could rip the wrapper off a
condom.  Are you going to tell me I'm wrong?  How many other men like you
are out there?  I'd bet there are at least two or three, 'Harolds', for
every, 'Bob', and there are enough of *those* for parents to be cautious."

   When he got to Mary's house the next day, Harold found a fresh pot of
coffee brewing and her laptop set up on the kitchen table.  As he expected,
the raw video wasn't much longer than the edited version but had a more
candid and personal feel.  What he didn't expect was her letting the video
continue until it had played out the entire contents of the surveillance
file.

   "Well...  Uh..."

   "My feelings exactly.  This is the first time I've viewed it past the
initial incident."

   "I guess you can stop worrying about him getting molested"

   "Why do you say that?"

   "It looks like he's reached the point where you should be worrying about
how many and how often."

   "Bob left town several weeks ago.  Since then I know Timmy has been, uh,
intimate, with his best friend.  It may have been a one time thing.h They
might be going at it like a couple of bunnies.  If so, they've been careful
enough to keep me from tripping over them.  He has also acquired a
girlfriend.  I don't know how physical that relationship is at this point
but it seems to be heading in that direction."

   "So maybe you're worried about nothing."

   "I wish.  These videos hardly hint at what I walked in on.  He still has
his skirt and cosmetics.  I'm scared to death that he'll take a walk
downtown some Saturday night.  I don't know whether to be more frightened
that some creep will stomp him when he finds out Timmy isn't a girl, or
that it won't matter to him one way or the other."

   "Well, there isn't much you can do about that, unless you're looking to
screen his dates.  I can almost imagine how well that would work."

   "You know, you just might have something.  How about this..."

   *****

   Some guy was sitting at the kitchen table with his mom when Timmy got
home from the kennel.  Her laptop was out so he figured it was somebody
from work.  When he got to his room he discovered he was right but hadn't
guessed the whole story.  Laid out on his bed were the blouse and skirt
he'd last worn for Bob.

   "MOM!"

   "No need to yell hon.  I'm right behind you."

   "What's this for?"

   "Don't be silly.  We both know exactly what it's for.  What you're
really asking is why it's out here instead of hanging in your closet."

   "Ok, why?"

   "The man at the table is my friend Harold from work.  He's the one that
helped me make sure the video I uploaded was cleaned up so nobody could
recognize you."

   "The gay guy?"

   "Yes, he's gay.  We spent the morning looking at the rest of the kennel
videos and discussing what I should do about it."

   "Oh...  My...  God...  You showed them to him?  *ALL* of them?"

   "Yes dear.  I needed advice and even if I had the time to clean up more
video for upload I couldn't get the kind of help I wanted online.

   "I'm going to ask you to do something really embarrassing.  You don't
*have* to.  In fact you probably shouldn't.  I won't be angry or upset if
you refuse.  Harold would like to see you in your girl clothes and makeup."

   "Wha...  Why?"

   "I'm sure you can make the same guess I did.  I won't ask you to 'be a
girl', for him.  I'd be happier if you didn't."

   "With you sitting there?...  I could never..."

   "Oh, be quiet for a minute.  Harold and I just watched nearly two hours
of video taken over several weeks time.  We've got a pretty good idea of
what you can do, so trying to say *can't* doesn't cut it.  I've known since
I accidentally walked in on you what you were up to with Bob.  If I know,
does it really matter where I am while I know?  If you decided to rub my
nose in it, to take your pants off and bend over the table while I finish
my coffee, I'd be terribly embarrassed.  I can still be embarrassed.  After
the video we watched I'm already about as shocked as I can get.

   "You smell like dogs.  Clean up and change.  Whether you take off to be
with your friends or take twenty minutes to show Harold a good time first
is totally your choice."



   Part 6 (Mb bg Fdom)



   Timmy had to ignore everything else and concentrate on putting one foot
in front of the other to get from his room to where Harold and his mom were
seated at the kitchen table.  What surprised him the most was that he
actually could do what she had asked.  This was the first time his mom had
seen him in a skirt.  The videos didn't really count.  He hadn't dressed up
for *her* and didn't even know he was on camera at the time.  Walking up to
some queer that he was supposed to, "show a good time", would have been
impossible a month ago.  Timmy knew what was on the videos his mom showed
Harold.  A good time with this guy wasn't going to involve sitting around
playing cards...  unless the betting was something like, "I'll see your two
shoes and raise a blouse." Oh god!  *Wrong* thing to think about!  Boys
underwear with this stuff would be too weird and he still didn't own any
panties.  A familiar sensation told him that any minute now Harold and his
mom were going to notice the front of his skirt wasn't hanging quite right.

   Better to get the guy somewhere private before she saw what was
happening.  Unless?  NO!  She couldn't expect him to...  Not in front of
his *mother*.

   "Uh.  Hi."

   "Hello Timmy.  Your mom has told me a lot about you, probably more than
she should have.  Try not to let it bother you.  You're a lot closer to
normal than you think."

   "Yeah.  Sure.  Right now I'm thinking one of us is either blind or
crazy. Uh, would you like to see my room?"

   He really shouldn't have looked back as they left the kitchen.  His mom
wasn't watching them.  She sat at the table sipping coffee, staring at the
screen of her laptop.  It was the odd little smile on her face that gave
him a creepy suspicion that he *really* didn't want to know what she was
looking at.

   Timmy had never thought his bedroom door was noisy.  It wasn't really
that loud this time.  But the click as Harold closed the door behind them
seemed to echo in the stillness that followed.  While they both knew what
was going to happen the silence got long enough to be uncomfortable before
either of them figured out what to do next.

   "Mom told you I'm not gay, right?"

   "Uh, actually I'm the one who told her that you might not be.  The way I
understand what she explained to me is that you're using role play to
explore some fantasies.  One that you find particularly hot right now is
some straight guy being so horny to fuck a young girl that if he can't get
the real thing, he'll use you instead.  That right?"

   "I guess."

   "So, what about your mom?"

   "My mom?"

   "Maybe I shouldn't be the one telling you this.  I'm sure you've heard
the old line about how people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw
stones.  There's a couple things I've noticed about your mom that maybe
you're too close to see.  First is that you're the most important person in
her life.  So much that outside of you and work she hardly has a life. 
That isn't entirely a good thing.  I'm sure it feels like she's smothering
you sometimes but that's nothing compared to how it would be if she wasn't
trying really hard to give you some room to be yourself.  Trust me.  If she
wasn't trying so hard, by the time Bob picked you up you would have been
ready to do whatever he wanted as long as he promised *not* to take you
home.

   "The other is the sex thing.  She's a little crazy on the subject but
that isn't surprising.  When it comes to sexual ethics the whole damn world
is nuts.  Between religion, local customs and law it's like everybody has a
different set of rules they should follow.  The only thing all the
different sets of rules have in common is that no sane person could live by
them.  So people say they live by the set of rules that the people around
them claim to be using, at least in public.  Then they follow a different
set in private.

   "Your mom was both lucky and cursed.  When her mom discovered Mary was
sexually active, instead of punishing her for failing to live by an
impossible set of rules she, uh, supervised .  Technically that made her an
accomplice in the sexual abuse of a minor.  The kid, your mother, wasn't in
a position to complain and might have decided to go with the flow in any
case.  Now the same situation is playing out one generation later with a
twist.

   "If she caught you with Debbie when she came back for her purse that
morning, you might have been scolded but in the long run it would have been
something to laugh about.  Getting caught with a boy your own age would
have been even less of a problem once you got through the lecture on
protecting your health and reputation.  Bob came very close to sitting in a
jail cell while the cops asked you way too many embarrassing questions. 
The only thing that saved his ass was you begging him to, "make you be a
girl".

   "Oh my fuggin' God!  She walked in early enough to hear that?"

   "Yeah, and it threw her completely off stride regarding how to handle
the situation.  Up until then she described herself as a hen with one
chick. Suddenly she was raising a duckling.  She loves you more than anyone
but if she could turn back the clock and choose whether she would have a
boy or a girl, knowing she could only have one, she'd have had a daughter.
Then, by walking in on you and Bob, she discovered that in some weird way
she did have a girl, at least part time under certain conditions.  She's
going to deal with most of your private life the way an average parent
would, keeping an eye on the situation and ignoring it unless things get
out of hand."

   "Really?"

   "Yeah, but don't get too happy too soon.  She's going to deal with your,
uh, 'girl time', the way her mother dealt with her.  She plans to make sure
you get all the cock you could want and maybe a little more, while you
develop the skills to discretely hook up with appropriate partners."

   Timmy shivered as Harold moved in behind him, lightly resting one hand
on his shoulder while the other slipped under the back of his skirt.  He
didn't try to pull away as the queer began to fondle his naked ass.

   "You don't have to do anything.  If some homo tried to rape her son,
your mom would call the cops to haul away whatever is left when they
arrive. But nothing would please her more than to have her little girl
sexually serve a man mom has selected.  You don't have to like it.  She
might even enjoy it more if she thinks you're only doing it because she
asked you to.  I certainly don't expect you to like me.  I'll try not to be
too rough, or laugh too loud if you cum while I'm having my way with you.
You will eventually, if we do it often enough that I can train you how to
please me the most.  This first time I was ready to settle for a blow job
but I see your mom was thoughtful enough to leave a jar of lube on the
night stand.  The quickest way for you to get through this would be to get
on all fours with your ass near the edge of the bed so I can do you from
behind standing up."

   Timmy was on his way to the shower while Harold and his mom were still
chatting at the front door.  It hadn't been *too* rough, kneeling on his
bed while a pervert flipped up his skirt and pulled his ass back onto a hot
hard cock.  It hurt at first and he'd be plenty sore if it had lasted much
longer.  Mostly he felt used and, well, shocked, that his own mother could
want him to be used this way.  The worst part though, was that his own cock
was about as hard as it ever got.  He didn't particularly want to jerk off
but this stiffy wasn't going to wilt any time soon unless he did something
about it.  He had a chance to regret that decision later when his mom
passed him in the hall.  At least she started to pass him.  He was still
damp, wrapped in a towel, when she grabbed him by the chin and made him
look her in the eye.

   "Harold said you were hard as a rock when he finished with you.  It
looks like you took care of that in the shower.  That's OK this time.  You
might want to remember in the future that it's more enjoyable for the men
who have you, if they can watch you having physical pleasure as well."

   He stood there in shock for a minute as she continued on her way.  By
the time he'd finished dressing and left to meet Debbie his blush had faded
and he had trouble believing he'd really heard her say that.  Did his mom
actually expect him to masturbate while some creep was raping him?  And if
the idea was really that offensive why was he getting hard again thinking
about it?  Oh well, it could be worse, at least Debbie would think he was
happy to see her.

   *****

   "Oh wow!  She really did that?  Laid out girl clothes and a jar of lube?
She actually picked a guy for you to do it with?"

   Debbie looked out across the river that ran through the park.  Timmy was
her first real boyfriend and she trusted him.  All the other boys who knew
what that creep had done with her got weird about it.  They either treated
her like some kind of cripple, or like they wanted to get in line.  Some
managed to do both.  Timmy was different.  He didn't pretend it never
happened or that it wasn't important.  For better or worse what happened
was a part of her now.  But he seemed to agree with her that it was only a
part, and the rest of the things that made her Debbie were important too.
She was ready to tell him things she wouldn't tell anyone else, but how
much was he ready to hear?

   "Timmy?  Don't talk about what I'm going to tell you with anyone else,
OK?"

   "OK."

   "Back when the creep was doing stuff to me, it was always scary and
embarrassing, and, well, degrading.  I mean like, he had this important job
and everybody liked him.  He was always helping people and getting awards
for stuff he did.  There was even this volunteer thing with neighborhood
kids.  A few of them showed up at the trial to tell the judge how he was
such a nice guy and never did anything with them.  So if this wonderful guy
got me alone somewhere and bad stuff happened it couldn't be his fault,
right?"

   "Oh shit..."

   "It gets worse.  You're going to think I'm really terrible, or stupid,
maybe both.  The first time it caught me completely by surprise.  He knew
exactly what he wanted while I didn't know what creeps did to kids.  He was
sitting there with me standing next to him.  He pulled my pants down, took
out his cock, and showed me how to jack him off.  At the time I didn't even
know I was being molested.  I can't believe now that I was ever that dumb.

   "I had the usual instructions about not talking to strangers, not
letting people see my swimsuit places, not playing games that involved
taking off clothes.  There was also all the other stuff a kid learns about
adults.  Things like, 'just do what you're told I don't have time to
explain right now', and, 'you don't have to like him but he's a friend of
your parents and being rude to him is the same as being rude to them'."

   "Yeah, we're supposed to be invisible unless we're being polite and
helpful.  Do as you're told.  Don't talk back.  Don't hang around when
they're talking about adult stuff.  Don't *ever* tell one adult what other
adults are saying about him, unless you want all of them calling you a
liar. Then if one of them makes you do something creepy or embarrassing
you're supposed to make a big fuss and tell the whole world about it as
soon as you can.  Only you're supposed to know what the bad stuff is
without being told.  If it doesn't feel right you're supposed to tell.  But
if your mom is telling one of her friends about this really embarrassing
mistake you made because you were too young to know any better, you're
supposed to suck it up when they laugh about you being so *cute*."

   "Uh-huh.  He didn't try to pass it off as a game or talk me into playing
with him.  I was standing sort of sideways so he couldn't see much of
anything.  The way he was guiding my hands on his cock with one hand was so
creepy I hardly noticed the other going up and down my back up under my
tee-shirt.  It was scary at first but he kept talking to me, calm and
quiet, about how only a few grownups needed this kind of special favor and
the other adults wouldn't like him if they found out he was one of those.
He was really sorry about pushing me to do stuff but guys like him were
only allowed to do it with certain special girls.  There weren't many guys
like him.  They still outnumbered the special girls by more than a dozen to
one.  He was super lucky to find me living so close.  He was even luckier
that none of the other guys had noticed I was special yet.  It would take
time to teach me what to do, but at least he wouldn't have to share."

   "So he was like, do it with one creep in secret, or tell and have a mob
of creeps passing you around?"

   "Yeah.  All that stuff about bad touching and swimsuit places was for
other girls.  I was *special*.  There were a few other girls like me.  Most
of them already knew what to do.  I still had to be trained.  Because I was
being trained instead of playing it never crossed my mind to complain that
I wasn't having fun.  He didn't have to go slow or coax me into going a
little bit further, 'just this once'.  He didn't waste any time.  When he
was ready to cum he made me bend over and take the head of his cock in my
mouth.  I didn't know anything about ejculation.  I found out what sperm
looked like because I didn't know it was coming or that other girls
swallow. Later he made me do anal because my vagina wouldn't stretch that
far without tearing.  Much later I figured out that he didn't give a damn
about tearing me up.  He was scared some doctor would notice I wasn't a
virgin and start asking questions.  By the time he had me trained I really
felt special..., like I should be in the Special Olympics.  I was more
afraid of people finding out I was that stupid than having them know about
the sex stuff."

   "You're not dumb!  Kids aren't supposed to know anything about that
stuff!"

   Debbie rolled toward him long enough to plant a quick kiss before
settling back to the grassy river bank.

   "That just might be the nicest thing a boy ever said to me.  Anyway,
there was one time..., near the end.  I had to meet him somewhere and when
mom asked about it, I made some kind of excuse that really didn't explain
anything.  If she pushed it right then, I would have told everything.  It
would have stopped that much sooner.  Sometimes I wonder if I was maybe
trying to get caught.  Later on I made my friend swear to keep it a secret,
but the girl I told was the one friend I had who couldn't keep a secret to
save her life.  So yeah, maybe I was sort of hoping mom would keep asking
until I spilled the whole story.  Instead, she just sort of looked away and
changed the subject.

   "I was like, oh my God, she knows!  I don't mean details, just that
something was going on.  So it was like, she wasn't really OK with what was
happening to me, but she wasn't going to push for answers she didn't want
to hear.  When I got there, I was mad at her, mad at him and really,
really, mad at myself.  You say I'm not stupid so I guess I got crazy or
maybe just mean.  I decided that if he wanted it that bad, he should make
me *do* it really bad."

   "You mean, like, being rough?"

   "Not hurting me, not just to be hurting me anyway.  It was OK while he
was using me for sex.  I, uh, I wanted that to hurt a little.  That way I
would know he was *using* me, making me do the nastiest things he could
think of."

   "Oh...  What...  Uh...  "

   "Oh God.  It was a good thing I didn't really know what I was asking
for. The only thing that could have made it worse is if I knew, and asked
him to do it anyway."

   "I'm kinda scared to ask what he did."

   "That was the first shock.  He didn't really do anything different.  He
was already doing the nastiest stuff he thought he could get away with. 
Until then I guess I had this idea that he was trying to be nice, that he
was trying to make it easier for me.  The second surprise was, well, you've
been with a couple of perverts now.  You know how they get when they're
allowed to do something, 'special'?"

   "Like a kid who just found out he's spending the first week of summer
vacation at Disneyland?  When his last class ended five minutes ago?"

   "Uh-huh, and he's got a book of coupons for the best rides in the park.
It changed things, sort of.  Not the things he was doing but the way I felt
about it.  Before it was like, OK, he has to do it with a kid.  It would be
better for everybody if he could do it with other grown ups and leave me
alone.  Too bad, the only way he can have that kind of pleasure is with a
kid and for now at least, I'm it.  Then, all of a sudden, I'm standing
there saying, 'OK, I'm it.  I'm sick of waiting for the next level.  Show
me how bad it can get.'.  Then it was like you said.  Disneyland is open
and he's the only kid in line.  He had me get bare all over.  He probably
would have anyway.  We usually didn't get the chance.  If anyone knew we
were together he made sure we could stop and cover up in the time it took
for him to answer the door.  This time he didn't know about mom asking
questions.

   "I knew, and all I could think about was making her watch what he was
doing.  What if she followed me?  Would she come busting in on us?  Then
let her catch me bare naked.  Hey mom, is he still such a nice guy when
he's holding your little girls head with both hands while he fucks her
face? Gonna grab a towel and wipe that dribble of cum off my chin?  He
spanked me, but not too hard.  I wasn't very bad.  He was edging, having me
suck until he got close before making me stop.  He spanked me for not
stopping fast enough.  The next time that happened, instead of spanking my
ass, he fucked it...  sort of.

   "We were in the bathroom and the closest thing to a chair was the toilet
with the lid closed.  One of the ways he liked it was to have me sit on his
lap.  If I was wearing a skirt, he would unzip his fly and pull my panties
down far enough to stick it in my ass.  If we heard somebody we could
straighten up in a couple of seconds.  This time I straddled his thighs
facing his feet and backed up until the head of his dick was inside.  As he
grabbed my wrists and slowly pulled me back I rose up on tip toes to try to
keep him from going deeper.  By the time I was back far enough to be
directly over his cock, I couldn't quite lift myself off of him no matter
how I stretched.  My reflection in the mirror on the inside of the bathroom
door let me know what mom would see if she walked in on us right then.

   "Would she expect me to struggle?  After only a couple of minutes my
legs were shaking from the strain.  Would she tell me to go ahead, to give
up and let it happen?  What would it be like to have her watching me lower
myself onto five thick inches of pervert cock?  What would you tell me to
do, if it was you standing there watching?"

   "I, uh, I'm not your mom."

   "Yeah.  I noticed.  So which would you tell me, fight it, or give up?"

   " I meant I'd be thinking about different choices."

   "Different choices?"

   Timmy started to blush and kept looking across the river, but finally
answered her question.

   "I'd be trying to get you to be with me instead.  Or..."

   "Or what?"

   "Uh...  like...  with me too."

   "You mean, make him share?"

   "I can't make a grown up do anything.  If I could, I'd make him leave
you alone.  Alone with me...  bare naked...  but not like you have to do it
with me to keep him away from you.  More like, if you're going to anyway,
do it with me instead."

   "Or do it with you too?"

   "Ok, I'm kind of a creep sometimes.  If I walked in on you there is *no
way* I could turn around and walk out.  If I'm there I'm going to watch.  I
can't imagine watching you with somebody else and not wanting to be with
you too."

   "You're right.  You're a creep.  But you know what?  If I walked in on
you and that Harold guy?  I would have left if you asked me to, but you
would have had to ask.  So I guess I'm sort of a creep too."

   "At least you're not asking me to do it with guys.  Cripes!  How could
my mom *do* that?  And it isn't going to be a one time thing.  Harold told
me she's going to make sure I get, 'all the cock I can handle'.  Like she's
going to be looking for guys who'll do it with me."

   "How much is all you can handle?  So far you did it with Bob, this
Harold guy and Billy."

   "He told you!?"

   "No, and I wasn't sure until right now.  Guys act different around
somebody they fucked.  I guess girls do too but if I meet a couple I'm not
watching the girl.  I wouldn't have noticed if you weren't talking about it
when I left that day.  The next time I saw you together I was looking for
it.  What I didn't know is if I was seeing it because you did something, or
because I was looking for it."

   "Yeah, well, we're not gay."

   "Because you were thinking about me?  You know, you look really cute
when you blush like that."

   "Uh, like you said, we were talking about it and after you left we sort
of started talking about you.  I guess one thing led to another..."

   "It's OK.  I mean it's weird, but not *that* weird.  I'm not mad at
either of you.  There is one thing I'm kind of curious about.  You don't
have to answer.  It's really none of my business.  When you guys did it,
were you...  like...  the girl?"

   "Yeah, but..."

   "I know.  I know.  You guys were thinking about me.  What I wanted to
ask is, were *you* thinking about what it would be like with me...  or to
be me?"

   Timmy couldn't answer her, couldn't even look at her, but he really
didn't have to.  The way his blush darkened confirmed her suspicions as
thoroughly as anything he could have said.  Debbie rolled in to kiss him
again, staying on top of him this time, nuzzling the side of his neck and
talking in a voice too soft for anyone else to hear.

   "I've never done it with a boy my own age.  I never actually wanted to
do it.  I uh, sometimes I kind of liked the attention, but that's not the
same thing.  I never even imagined being with a boy who knows what it's
like to be with a pervert, not until now.  If you want to find out what it
was like for Billy, well, I can't really show you how it feels to have your
cock in a *boys* ass..."

   Part 7 (Mb Mg bb Fdom)



   Billy was just leaving as Timmy's mom pulled into the driveway.  The bag
of groceries she picked up on the way home from work wasn't that heavy. 
Along with her laptop and briefcase though the load was awkward enough she
was glad her son held the door.  It wasn't until he started blushing that
she realized she was wearing the sort of superior smirk he'd started
calling *that* smile.

   "Sorry hon, I know it bothers you a little that your mother thinks
you're a cute kid.  It probably doesn't make it any easier that your friend
Billy is also cute.  It drives you up a wall that your mother knows about
the two of you being together that way.  I try to ignore it but sometimes
that just isn't possible."

   "You could if you really wanted to!"

   "You think so?  You think you could do better?  Try this.  Right now,
think about anything at all, except a purple horse."

   Her smile got wider as his blush deepened.

   "Can't do it, can you?  Well, there isn't a woman on earth who could
find out a couple of cute boys were doing each other, and not think about
it.  Compared to you, ignoring a purple pony is easy.  Go ahead and get
cleaned up.  I have a friend from my college days coming over for dinner.
Try to be nice, OK?  If we start to bore you later you can watch a movie
downstairs.  We'll try to stay out of your hair."

   When Ellie showed up with a couple bottles of wine to serve with the
meal Mary hesitated for a minute then set a wine glass for Timmy as well. A
couple of glasses with food weren't enough to get a buzz going even in a
kid his size.  It did leave him a lot more relaxed and tolerant when they
started reminiscing about their college days.  By the time he grabbed a
movie and headed for the rec room they had cracked the second bottle.  It
wasn't hard to ignore them at first.  The most action filled movie still
has quiet scenes, and every now and then he'd hear his mom and her friend
upstairs giggling like a couple of school girls.  Before too long he needed
to use the bathroom.  What he heard as he started back downstairs set his
cheeks burning.

   "...  can't believe it!  He seems like such a nice boy!"

   "He is!  Ok, I'll admit I'm biased.  He isn't perfect and probably isn't
as close to it as I'd like to believe.  Most ways, most of the time, he's a
pretty good kid."

   "That's not what I meant and you know it.  Sure he's a *nice* boy.  I
thought he was a nice *boy*.  The way that ape is fucking him makes me
cringe, how can you sit there watching a video of some guy doing that to
your son?"

   "Perverted huh?  It helps that this isn't the first time I've seen it.
Wait until you see the rest.  This won't look so bad."

   "You're telling me it gets worse?"

   "It gets...  different.  How old were you the first time you did it with
a grown man, not some kid your own age?"

   "No older than Timmy, but it, uh, wasn't exactly my idea."

   "You were raped?"

   "Not really.  I knew what he was after.  I was pretty sure that if I
gave him an opportunity something would happen.  I didn't have any sort of
crush on him and certainly wasn't expecting flowers and poetry.  What I got
was about as far from that as you can imagine.  It wasn't really rough,
though I got the impression it could get that way if I didn't go with the
flow.  Mostly it was, I guess crude is the word I'm looking for."

   "Sort of like Bob and Timmy?"

   "Yeah, but I'm not a boy."

   "Was it a one time thing, or did you go back for more?"

   "Well, maybe I'm a pervert too.  Sometimes crude is just what you want."

   "Uh huh.  Timmy's a boy.  He's not a *little* boy, not anymore.  He has
learned how to pleasure himself.  He has a girlfriend.  I don't know how
physical their relationship is but if they stay together long enough it
will get there.  He has at least one male friend his own age that he has...
experimented, with.  I wouldn't call what they do making love.  It's
primarily a physical thing.  While there's some degree of intimacy it's
more a matter of boys playing.

   "What he's doing with adult men isn't just on a different level.  It's a
whole different game."

   "I'd say!"

   "While the role play he's engaging in is completely consensual, the role
itself isn't so clear.  He refers to it as, "being a girl", but it doesn't
involve acting feminine.  Bob's role is that of a heterosexual male who
desires sex with a young girl.  In clinical terms he's a straight
pedophile. The scene you just watched is an example of what I'd describe as
blind lust.  While Bob would prefer a girl, Timmy is young and cute.  Most
importantly, he's *there*.  So a straight boy gets used as a substitute for
the girl Bob would prefer."

   "Ok, I can sort of understand that much.  It's hard to tell from this
video but it appears to be consensual.  I mean there's no sound and we
don't know how they got to the point where it starts.  Just because he
undressed and didn't struggle doesn't mean he wasn't blackmailed or there
wasn't some ape standing off camera with a shotgun."

   "We haven't discussed these videos in much detail.  Bob left the area
before I knew they existed.  You don't want to read too much into an
erection but there was obviously some degree of anticipation before he
undressed.  If you'll pour us another round I'll check on my problem
child."

   From the living room end of the hall Timmy didn't quite manage to make
it back to the basement steps before his mom saw him.  Mary wasn't going to
let it turn into a shouting match with a guest in the house.  She probably
wouldn't have anyway.  By keeping their voices down and leaving the TV on
they had as much privacy as possible with another person in the house.

   "Mom!  How could you?!"

   "Calm down.  Ellie and I have been friends since college.  As you've
pointed out more than once, just because I'm in a position to give you
orders doesn't always mean I know what I'm doing.  Coping with this is the
biggest parenting challenge I've faced so far.  I'm certainly not going to
tell the whole planet what's going on at this address, but I'm going to get
any advice I can from the people I trust that much.

   "While we're on the subject of trust, you wouldn't be upset right now if
you hadn't been eavesdropping.  I'm not going to censor my discussion with
Ellie to preserve your misplaced modesty.  I suppose I could tie you up in
the basement, but that's something you might talk about and social services
might take seriously.  Take off your clothes."

   "What?!"

   "You heard me.  Undress.  Now.  I want you barefoot all the way up to
your ears.  I'll leave your clothes in your room.  Don't even think about
sneaking up there to get dressed until I give you permission."

   Timmy thought he was about as embarrassed as he could get until his mom
stopped with his clothes in her hands half way up the stairs and flashed
him *that* smile.

   "This may sound cruel.  Maybe it is, a little.  I'm not very happy with
you right now.  I'm going to finish showing Ellie the video.  I know this
won't stop you if you're determined to snoop.  It will make the situation
amusing enough to be worth the effort of trying to catch you at it."

   It wasn't actually cold downstairs, just a little too cool to be
comfortable.  Along with his imagination adding a mocking tone to the half
heard conversation of the women it was impossible to concentrate on the
movie.  He couldn't watch something different.  Their DVD collection was in
the living room.  Except...

   Timmy got down on his hands and knees.  Reaching through the bottom
shelf of the entertainment center, he groped around on the floor behind it.
The unmarked DVD-R he pulled out was something Billy had brought back from
vacation at his uncles place.  They'd hardly started watching it a few day
earlier when Debbie showed up unexpected.  As he dropped it in and hit play
Timmy couldn't help thinking about Debbie and Billy.  It struck him as a
little strange that while he could watch a porn vid with either one,
watching with both at once was embarrassing.

   The blond in the opening scene wasn't all that cute but the way she was
gobbling that guys dick got a rise out of his own.  When she began to fuck
her partners ass Timmy thought she was wearing a strapon.  He was still
trying to imagine Debbie doing that to him when he realized that the,
"girl", on screen was wearing crotchless panties.  That was her own cock
going up a guys ass.  After several more scenes of different varieties of
kink, one opened with what looked like a horse blanket thrown over a hay
bale in somebodies barn.

   An older man came into view, not fat but husky and packing a middle aged
gut.  The boy he pushed ahead of him wasn't really fighting, but plainly
had a good idea of what was coming and wasn't looking forward to it.  The
man had tied a knot in a large bandanna and wrapped the free ends around
his fist behind the boys head after stuffing the knot in the kids mouth. 
The boys head was being forced towards the bale regardless of how his body
was trying to stop or at least change directions.  Timmy thought the
struggle would be a lot more convincing if there was more clothing in view
than the knotted bandanna, and the boys cock wasn't as stiff as the man
behind him.  It wasn't until the kid was kneeling bent over one end of the
bale, head turned to keep from having his nose rammed into the blanket,
that Timmy saw it was his friend Billy!  The man, it must be Billy's uncle
dipped his free hand behind the bale and brought up a couple of fingers
holding a blob of grease.

   "I love the first time after you get here!  It's like riding a horse
that's pretty well trained but hasn't been saddled for a year.  Reach back
and spread your cheeks, unless you want me to skip the lube and ram it in
dry.  It's time for you to find out why I called and told you not to jack
off for a week.  You just try to relax while I get you opened up and
slippery.  I haven't popped a load since I called you.  So as soon as I can
do it without tearing you up, I'm gonna fuck you like I haven't had any for
a year.  When the head of my cock pops inside you can let go of your ass
and start jacking off.  We're gonna have a little race.  If you can show me
a palm full of spunk before I cum I'll lick your hand clean when I'm done
and we'll move on to doing other things for a while.  If I finish first
you're gonna lick your shit off my dick while you get me hard enough to go
again.  That might not be fair but hey, fair doesn't happen in the real
world, not even for a pretty little fairy like you."

   Billy won his race and the scene ended.  Timmy didn't know what to think
at first.  While the video was almost identical to some scenes of him and
Bob, it was different too.  He blushed a little over the erection that had
formed while he watched his friend.  Recalling the times he'd been in that
situation, crying and struggling like a girl being raped, frantically
jerking his own cock while Bob was using him, he blushed even deeper. 
Timmy knew if he was struggling it was because he wanted to, wanted Bob to
*make* him do it.  If he was jerking his own cock he was either too
impatient to wait for Bob to make him cum, or trying to give the pervert
the added thrill of *raping* a kid into an orgasm.  Bob never filmed them
together.  He didn't know about the security cameras.  If he did film them
together he would have filmed all of it.  He had the impression that
Billy's uncle had stopped because *he* was finished.  He would have kept it
going if Billy was sucking cock.  Bob would have filmed himself slurping
cum off Timmy's hand.  He was hiding the DVD when his moms voice from the
stairs froze him in place.

   "Wouldn't it be easier to keep it in your room?  You look cute in that
position but it has to be sort of awkward.  Besides, one recordable in a
stack of others is a lot less suspicious than a orphan disk behind the
entertainment center.  I found it the other day when I was vacuuming.  I
haven't had a chance to watch it yet.  From your present physical state I'd
guess you found it interesting.  Give it to me."

   "Mom!  Please!  I can't!  Uh, it doesn't belong to me."

   "Ok, I'll give you a choice.  I'd guess that you got it from your friend
Billy.  Is that right?"

   "Uh, Yeah."

   "You can let me view the contents and return the disk to you.  If he
finds out I've seen it, you can truthfully tell him I found it while
cleaning.  Whether or not you fill him in on this discussion is totally up
to you.  The other choice is that I go to him with that disk in my hand and
ask his permission to view it.  I'll tell him how I found it and you
informed me it was his property.  I'm not the police and I'm not *his*
mother.  In the unlikely event that I find the contents too objectionable,
I'll return the disk and caution him that I don't want any more of that in
my house.  If he won't permit me to watch the video, I'll ask him to leave
and not come back.  I *am* your mother.  This *is* my home.  He can allow
me to inspect anything he brings on the premises or stay the hell out. 
It's your choice but you don't have to make it right this minute.  I
actually came down to bring you some clothes so you can join us upstairs if
you'd like."

   "Sure...  Uh, mom?  Those are my girl clothes."

   "That's right.  We're having sort of a girls night in.  After watching
you, 'be a girl', for Bob, Ellie would like you to share some girl talk
with us.  If you're in a skirt we can discuss things she'd never talk about
with a boy."

   "What things?"

   "I could guess.  Maybe you can too.  It's better if you just come
upstairs.  If you start getting creeped out you can always come back down
here or go to your room."

   He almost turned around the instant he got to the living room.  Ellie
was wearing *that* smile, but it wasn't quite as bad as seeing it on his
mom.  She quickly got it under control when she saw how nervous he was.

   "I know this is, like, really awkward for you.  Women who are almost
strangers will discuss things men won't talk about even with their best
friend.  If it seems like what I'm asking is too personal, or you're
getting too much information, especially about your moms history, try to
just go with it.  Ok?  Maybe you can think of it as more practice for being
a girl.

   "When your mom and I met in college she had more experience with boys
even though I started younger.  I had fewer dates but more of them were
with men.  All of her boyfriends had been within a few years of her own
age, and just as inexperienced.  She didn't understand the difference back
then and probably doesn't now, not really.  She's obviously been with men,
but as a grown woman.  There's no way she can turn back the clock and
experience it as a *girl*.

   "There was a retired guy in our neighborhood that did wood working as a
hobby.  I won't go into how he worked up to what he wanted.  I guess it's
called grooming.  At first it was embarrassing and a little scary.  By the
time he was pushing things into me, stretching my vagina until I could,
'take it like a big girl', it was mostly...  well, degrading.  The worst
part was that in some really messed up way, I liked it."

   Timmy's head snapped around and he stared at Ellie round eyed.

   "Uh-huh, just like you."

   "I...  Uh...  You don't know..."

   "Oh relax!  It's just us girls.  You don't have to pretend, and your mom
needs to know.  She's never had it like that.  She could come close if she
wanted to, pick up some huge roughneck, keep her mouth shut and let him do
whatever.  It wouldn't be the same though, as some sweet young kid being
used by a pervert.  After a while even the normal stuff starts to feel
creepy.  You're working on a project or helping with chores, knowing all
the time what will happen later.  Whenever some normal person comments
about you being together you wonder what they would think if they knew he
was fucking you.  You don't have to fib to me.  I've been there, or at
least somewhere close.  You got taken instead of seduced.  Being a boy puts
it on a different level of degrading.  Not too different, you like it as
much as I did."

   "I guess."

   "No guessing.  If Bob called right now and told you he was going to drag
you into his van and make you, 'be a girl', you'd get stiff before you hung
up the phone.  You'd be squirming in your seat waiting for him to pull into
the driveway.  You might blush a little going out the door.  It would be
worse coming back in.  There isn't anything much more degrading than having
your mother sitting here waiting for some pervo to finish with you.  Unless
maybe it's having her walk in while you're begging to be fucked like a
girl."

   "She *told* you?"

   "Can you blame her?  I've know your mom longer than you've been alive.
Most ways, most of the time, she's pretty cool.  But she's also a parent.
That means putting the safety and well being of her kid ahead of personal
preferences.  Decent people would consider a woman who let her boy hang out
with somebody like Bob to be just as creepy as the pervert fucking her kid,
maybe worse.  The only acceptable excuse, and I'm talking just barely
acceptable, is being absolutely certain you'd find some way to do it no
matter how hard she tries to stop you.  You took the wrong ski trail. 
There's no going back.  You're going to get hurt.  The best she can do is
stick with you while trying to avoid the deadly dangers.  The big question
is how willing are you to let her help?"

   "What do you mean?"

   "Bob left with no warning, no farewell.  What if your mom told him you
could do whatever you liked but she didn't trust him anymore to be alone
with you.  If he wants to make you be a girl, he has to come in here where
she can make sure things don't get out of hand.  Could you do it?"

   "You mean sex?  In front of my mom?"

   "She's seen the video.  She's walked in on you by accident.  She even
set you up with a guy she trusts.  Now she's making you get into your girl
clothes and answer my questions."

   "Hey!  I'm not making him do this!"

   "Whatever.  So Timmy, if Bob came through the door right now wanting to
make you be a girl, could you do it?  Could you ask for it, so that
everyone here is sure that's what you really want?"

   The thought of something like that made him blush.  Realizing that it
was one of those questions that if you had to think, everybody knew what
your answer would be, made it worse.  Soon Ellie was cracking *that* smile
again, and his mom was trying desperately to keep a straight face.

   "It could never happen.  Bob couldn't...  Mom would never ask him to...
Not like *THAT*."

   "Maybe you're right.  I guess your mom didn't tell you.  One reason I'm
here tonight is that Bob called her earlier today.  She needed somebody to
talk it over with that wasn't personally involved.  For the record, I think
you're right.  I don't believe your mom could call Bob and tell him to come
and get it.  But, you know, when you started hanging with him she got his
number on her cell.  It's still there.  I checked earlier when she went to
the bathroom.  Did more than check, I called him and told him to come over
unless you or your mom called back to cancel."

   "Oh God!  Bob?!  Really?!"

   "Ellie, we've been friends a long time and I know you have a warped
sense of humor, but tell me you didn't!"

   "Check your call log...  or wait for the doorbell.  As to why, it should
be plain as day."

   "Well it isn't to me.  Maybe you should explain before I throw you out."

   "Deep down you're still a prude.  You're also controlling and
manipulative.  I'll give you some credit.  You do try to keep a lid on it.
You're reconciled to the idea that your son *is* going to have a sex life,
and you're trying to stay out of the way as much as your nature permits. 
You're still trying to dictate who and where.  You'd be telling him what
and when if you could get past your own prudishness.  Right now you act
like the anti-porn crusader who had to watch the film he's denouncing
twenty times to thoroughly comprehend it's depravity.  You claim to be
shocked and embarrassed by what he's done.  You're so shocked that you
posted video clips on a child porn site?  You're so embarrassed that you
called a friend you haven't seen in ten years to gossip about all the
gruesome details?  Puh-lease!  You could prove me wrong.  Bob isn't here
yet.  Hit redial on your phone and tell him to stay away...  or sit tight
and see how this plays out.

   Part 8 (Mb bb Fdom)



   At first he didn't understand, then he started to worry.  What was wrong
with his mom?  Ok, some of the stuff Ellie said was kind of mean and the
trick she pulled wasn't that funny.  How hard was it to hit redial and tell
Bob it was a mistake?  Why was Mary looking everywhere except at him or her
friend?  Why was she starting to blush like...?

   "Oh no!  No way!  You can't seriously expect...  Like the time you
walked in on us, only from the beginning, knowing you're watching?!  I
can't, I just *CAN'T*!  How could you even ask?"

   "Oh shut up!  She isn't asking, not yet anyway.  She hasn't got the
nerve.  All that stuff about her boy growing up and trying to help sounds
good.  I'm pretty sure she even believes it, in the cold light of day when
she can push it back and look at it from a distance.  That doesn't change
the way she *feels*.  It doesn't matter if she lives to be a hundred. 
You'll still be her innocent little boy who has to be protected from evil
creeps.

   "At the same time, she has walked in on you.  She's seen the videos. 
Hell, she even set you up with a, 'nice', queer from the office.  How did
that work out for either of you?  That bad, huh?  Part of her is shocked
and embarrassed, sorry she pushed you into that.  Then she really looks at
how cute you are dressed as a girl and it isn't so shocking that some perv
might want to use you like one.  She's seen a grown man getting his rocks
off while her, 'innocent', little boy begs to be used.  No matter how much
she loves you and wants to protect you, there's another part of her that
wants to punish you for putting her in a position where she has to think
about these things.  She doesn't want to think like that.  She doesn't want
to feel that way.  There's something about you begging him to make you, 'be
a girl', that leaves her wondering if you just might deserve it.

   "Stand up.  Now turn around slowly.  Let's see what we can do to make
the bait more attractive.  We can skip the makeup.  You're cute enough
without it.  Besides, the whole idea is that you're a substitute for the
girl who couldn't be here.  It's hotter if you look a little more boyish.
Untuck the blouse, pop the bottom couple of buttons and knot the tails. 
Show off a little of that firm, flat stomach.  Not too much.  Don't open
any more buttons on top.  You don't have any cleavage to tease with and
you're not a slut, at least not that kind, not yet."

   "You can't really believe I'm going to do it."

   "What I believe doesn't matter.  Your mom is right to be worried about
your safety.  The thing is, she's too close to see the whole picture.  Bob
is scared.  I don't blame him.  If you went to the cops he could spend a
lot of years locked in with some really mean people."

   "Yeah, well, that was sort of the deal from the beginning.  I can't tell
his secrets without everybody finding out mine too."

   "Uh-huh, and then your mom found out.  There's an old saying that three
people can keep a secret if two of them are dead.  Still, when she turned
her back rather than pitching a fit and calling the cops he relaxed again.
Then he got fired at the kennel and had to figure the ax was going to fall
at any second.  Now another outsider knows what's going on.  It's dangerous
to have him wandering around half crazy with fear and worry.  We can't make
you do anything.  Well, actually we could but it would be worse than
useless.  What he needs is a secret from each of us, as big and
embarrassing as what he knows about you.  We have to own a piece of the
problem, a share of his risk.

   "I asked him to come here, invited him into your home.  I couldn't
promise him a good time.  I did tell him that I knew what he was after and
wouldn't try to stop it.  Your mom couldn't do that.  I don't think she
actually hates Bob.  She is deeply disturbed by what he does to you.  If
she had a free choice she'd rather spit in his eye than invite him inside.
It's not her choice.  Bob is here as your guest.  As long as he isn't rude
or abusive to anyone but you, she'll give him the same polite consideration
she would show to one of your teachers.  Maybe I should say one of your
other teachers.  I certainly expect this to be educational."

   "You're still not getting it.  I didn't say I don't want to or that I
have other plans.  I didn't say you can't make me.  It's already two to one
and Bob wouldn't need any help all by himself.  I'm telling you...  I
*CAN'T*.  I felt like I was going to die the other time, when I didn't know
she was there until after we finished.  There is no way I could do it with
mom watching."

   Ellie got as far as, "Don't worry about that..." before the doorbell
interrupted her.  Timmy and his mom exchanged, "What the hell do we do
now?", expressions while Ellie answered the door and ushered Bob into the
living room.

   "Excuse me for being brutally blunt but Mary asked me here to get my
opinion and I've heard enough verbal fan dancing for one day.  I'm not
going to contribute to it.  Bob?  I think it's pretty clear to all of us
you're a creepy sex pervert.  Don't bother trying to deny it.  By pure dumb
luck you managed to hook up with a kid who is also a pervo.  You don't know
Mary as well as I do but trust me when I tell you the, 'apple of her eye',
didn't fall too far from the tree.  In case you haven't figured it out yet,
the kennel let you go because of what they had on security videos.  While
they felt obligated to do something about it, the idea of having their
business name connected to what was going on didn't thrill them.  Instead
of going to the cops, they turned the video over to Mary and offered to
cooperate in however she wanted to handle it.  I won't tell you what she
did with the video other than to assure you that giving it to the
authorities at this point would raise some extremely awkward questions."

   "So?  What's it to you?"

   "Nothing, or at least not much.  Mary and I talked about the role play
you're into.  You're here because a cute, straight, boy gets off on being
used by a serial rapist.  After your vanishing act Mary decided any future
play dates had to be supervised to make sure Timmy didn't get used up.  I
really don't care what you do.  I'll stick around this time to make sure
Mary stays on the sidelines unless, or until, Timmy hollers 'nuff.  Got
that?"

   Rather than answer in words, Bob draped one arm around Timmy's shoulders
while his free hand nudged the skirt up just over the kids knees and began
fondling his lower thighs.

   *****

   "He didn't?!  Right there in front of your mom and her friend?!"

   Debbie rolled towards him where they were lying next to each other by
the river in the park.  It was kind of fun watching him blush.  She knew he
really didn't mind, once he was sure she got into hearing all the, "icky",
details.

   "Huh!  I wish I had that much trouble believing it.  I guess maybe I
did, right at first.  I mean, I looked down at his hand on my leg just
above the knee, and watched my stiffie start to make a tent under my skirt.
Then I realized they were all looking where I was."

   "Oh my god!  How embarrassing!"

   "Yeah.  I wanted to run to my room, crawl under the bed, and stay there
'til I died from old age.  Then I saw the look on my moms face.  It was
like we were watching the same horror movie and we were both shocked but
for different reasons.  It sort of turned into a contest to see which of us
would chicken out first and reach for the remote.  Remember what you told
me about that time you were pretty sure your mom knew what was going on? 
How you got so angry you imagined forcing her to watch?"

   "Yeah, but your mom was really there."

   "Uh-huh.  Remember what I told you about my first time with Bob?  He
said he didn't have much use for *nice* girls.  How, if I was going to be
his girlfriend, I'd have to be the kind of slut people make jokes about?

   "I never thought it was funny", she softly replied.

   "Well, you're special.  Anyway, Bob was looking at me, the way he does
right before I get raped.  I saw mom looking at me like, well, the way
*she* does right before I get raped."

   "How's that?"

   "You'd have to see it.  It's sort of like somebody watching a car wreck
in slow motion.  Ellie was watching, but it seemed like she was more
interested in how mom was dealing with it than what Bob was doing.  It's
like, the whole thing was so wrong, we all knew it, but we were all waiting
for one of the others to say something to stop it."

   "Only nobody did?"

   "Nobody.  They sort of expected me to make some kind of fuss, then do
what I was told.  Bob was going to do it unless I stood up to all of them
and said no.  It isn't fair!  It's, like, it makes the whole thing my
fault."

   "Don't take this wrong, but...  isn't it?  Your fault?  I mean, really,
once you knew it was coming was there any chance at all you'd walk away
from it?  Well, anyway, what happened then?"

   "He pulled me down so I was laying on the couch with my face in his lap
and unzipped his fly.  It wasn't easy.  Everybody knew I was pleasing him
with my mouth.  Bob was watching everything I did.  That's Ok.  I was
watching him watch me.  I, uh, I kind of like it, seeing how much he likes
what I'm doing.  All the women could really see was the back of my head.

   "In a little while I felt his hand on my ass, up under my skirt.  I
hardly had time to get used to that before it left, then came back with a
blob of lube.  He's done it to me enough that I know how to relax but this
time I tensed up and it hurt some.  I couldn't help thinking how the women
saw him loading his fingers with lube and knowing what he was going to do
with it.

   "Another thing that's weird is the way time kept bouncing around,
speeding up and slowing down.  While he was opening me up and getting me
slippery it felt like an hour.  Then he pulled me up to straddle his lap
facing him and everything was happening too fast.  I was supporting myself
with my hands on his shoulders and my shins on the front edge of the
cushions.  The end of his dick was jammed against my hole deep enough it
wasn't going to slip off and his hands on my waist kept me from lifting up.
That's where everything stopped.  I couldn't go through with it, not in
front of my mom.  I couldn't back up, anymore than I could push myself
backwards up a water slide.

   "Bob looked up at me and said, 'Take all the time you need girl.  It's
so much hotter when you give it up slow.' Eventually my legs got tired and
the head of his dick popped inside.  From there it took everything I had
left just to keep from landing on it too hard.  It actually got a little
easier when he was in me far enough my skirt sort of hid what we were
doing. Even after he took my blouse off it wasn't too bad.  Then he
unfastened my skirt, pulled it over my head and tossed it.  Except for
slippers and knee socks I was bare naked.  Worse was that I was the only
one.  Sure, Bob had his fly open, but there was just enough of his dick
showing for everyone to see where he was sticking it.  They were looking at
me so hard it felt like my back was getting massaged by eyeballs."

   "Oh, wow."

   "Yeah, well, I somehow managed to get that far without dying from
embarrassment.  Bob was fucking me and I knew he could cum without making
things any worse.  The whole deal had me feeling kind of wobbly but to be
honest it wasn't all bad.  I kind of like it when he makes me be a girl. 
Then he got up.  I mean wrapped his arms around me and stood up with his
cock still in me.  I gripped his waist with my legs while he walked around
behind the couch, set my ass on the top and made me lean back until my
shoulders were on the cushions.  His hands gripping my waist were all that
kept me from sliding down onto the floor.

   "Ellie was behind moms chair, her arms folded across the back and their
heads together.  She was making some kind of comments while looking over
moms shoulder.  From the look on her face and the way mom was squirming
around I didn't really want to know what Ellie was telling her.  Then I got
to thinking.  How could she be *that* shocked?  That upset?  I mean, she
was the one running around telling everybody, setting me up with Harold,
even...  I remembered that moment in the hall, when she guessed I'd jerked
off in the shower, telling me I should have done it while he was getting
his own kicks.  I, uh..."

   "You didn't?!"

   "The look on her face was worth it.  Like this grown man is using me for
sex and instead of struggling, trying to get away, I grabbed my cock and...
You know how, when a guy does it, it isn't always gentle?  Sometimes it's
better kind of hard.  This time...  I wasn't playing with myself or even
jerking off.  I was beating my meat, trying to hammer the cum out of it
while Bob fucked me"

   "Did you?"

   "Uh-huh.  Sometime while I was squirting all over my belly and chest Bob
finished too.  He didn't hang around, just wiped his dick off with my
skirt, zipped up and left.  I think it was kind of hitting him late.  You
know, what he did to me."

   "Maybe, but some guys are just like that.  You know, I'm done now, oops,
I'm late for dinner."

   "Oh, well mom sure took off for her room like she was late for
something. That left me and Ellie.  I didn't think I could get more
embarrassed, until..."

   *****

   "Try not to get upset.  For a while, back when I was your age, I was,
'the girl'.  It lets me sort of understand where your head is at.  Mine has
been in the same neighborhood more than once.  On the other hand, I've
never imagined a boy in that situation.  Who'd believe a straight boy could
have the sort of sick fascination that kept me coming back for more? 
Except...  well, you have your own live in expert on sick fascination.  She
hides it behind a smokescreen of high minded tolerance and clinical
psychobabble.  The truth is walking in on you left her shocked and
embarrassed beyond words.  The thought of some pervert rutting on her
little boy offends her on an instinctive, almost a biological, level.  The
sick part is that she wants to be shocked.  She's aroused by the perversity
of what you're doing.  Thinking that maybe her son, 'deserves it', leaves
her feeling so guilty she wants to have it thrown in her face, be forced to
watch.  Right now she's probably crying her eyes out over what he did to
you, while diddling herself like there's no tomorrow, and crying about that
too.

   "I guess I should feel sorry about setting you up.  Maybe I do, a
little, or at least sorry about who you have for a mom.  Back in college
neither of us were what you'd call party animals.  She liked to relax with
weed and wine while I was more boy crazy.  One time, when I got drunker
than I should have, she took advantage, got me to do things I was really
uncomfortable about later.  It wasn't rape the first time and I wasn't
upset enough to look for a new roomie so it was at least partly my fault
when it happened again.  Maybe this is some sort of payback.  Then I owe
you an apology for using you to get back at your mom.  It doesn't matter.
You were going to get to this anyway.  At the worst I shoved you into the
deep end of the pool after you were already wet."

   *****

   "She really said that, about your mom?"

   "Yeah.  That wasn't the weirdest part.  She's talking to me while I'm
standing there naked, splattered with my own dick juice.  There's a sticky
mess between my butt cheeks and my ass hole feels...  different."

   "Different how?"

   "It's hard to explain.  I shit when I need to.  Otherwise, I don't think
about it.  It wasn't anything special when Billy did it with me that
morning.  Maybe it was from doing it with two different guys in one day. 
Maybe it was having mom watch.  Maybe it was the way Ellie was acting.  I'm
standing there feeling like my ass is a sex hole.  Not something nice like
a girls muffin.  More like a weird sort of place only creepy sex perverts
would want to stick it.  Ellie's was acting like it's no big deal that
grown up perverts stick their cocks in it, that I *want* them to do that to
me."

   "You're right.  That is different.  So, what happens now?"

   "I don't know.  If Bob is still around I don't think it's gonna be a one
time thing.  Ellie sort of pushed us into it this time.  I never met her
before and don't know if I'll ever see her again."

   "Do you want to?"

   "I don't know.  That couple of minutes before she left was ok I guess,
just strange.  Like, she wasn't ignoring the way I wasn't dressed or
pretending nothing had happened.  She understood what Bob did to me and
didn't have a problem with it.  Not horny or disgusted, just like, she gets
it, she understands, not like mom.  It's been really awkward the last few
days."

   *****

   A couple days later he was back at the river with Billy, a couple miles
upstream, out past the edge of town.  They had their fishing rods but the
search for the perfect place to wet a line had taken over until they were
exploring instead.  A tiny creek flowing from a brush choked ravine had
lured them away from the river.  Eventually it dried up and opened out into
a clump of trees in the middle of some farmers cornfield.  They poked
around a little before Billy offered the opinion that this would be a good
place to, "do it".

   "Cripes!  Don't you think of anything else?  You're going to make me
sorry I ever let you."

   "Yeah, well, I'm not dating Debbie."

   "Uh-huh, and you're not seeing Bob either.  Want me to set you up?"

   "Maybe we should just forget it."

   "I wish I could.  Tell me something.  When you're at your uncle's place
is there ever anyone else there, you know, when he does it?"

   "You mean, like, watching?"

   "Yeah."

   "No way!  Well, not really.  You saw the video?  It's not the only copy
and it's not the only time he had a camera.  If I had to bet, I'd say he
must have shown at least some of it to somebody.  I don't think he'd put it
up on some pervert website."

   "I can't believe my mom did that.  So what if they can't recognize me
from the clips.  The way she goes online and chats with people that have
watched is still creepy."

   "You're not kidding!  Uh, there's also Ron, a college kid that works for
my uncle part time in the summer.  He never said anything but I think he
knows.  Once, I thought I saw a reflection when we were doing it in the
barn.  We kind of lost track of time.  Ron was late for work that day.  He
showed up *right* after we finished.  Another time, I saw Ron's jacket
hanging on a nail in a shed where we were doing stuff after he left for the
day.  The next day he was wearing that jacket when he got there.  I don't
remember if the jacket was still on the nail when we finished.  He might
have come back for it after we were done.  He's never said anything to me,
but I'm pretty sure he's seen us."

   "Uh, in the video, your uncle talks about having you trained like a
horse.  Is it really that way?"

   "Sort of, I guess you could call some of what he does riding me.  There
isn't any way I'll forget what he makes me do but it's only the first
couple weeks of summer vacation.  Most of the year I'm not like that.  So,
yeah, the last time before I leave is a lot easier than the first time
after I get there.  Talking about it is making me horny."

   "Dude, *breathing* makes you horny.  Try not to get mad.  When mom was
cleaning she found the disk."

   "Holy shit!  She watched it?!"

   "Not yet, at least she says she didn't.  She went into that, 'my house,
my rules', thing.  In this case that means she has the right to inspect
everything that comes through the door and ban whatever she doesn't like.
If you won't let her watch it, she'll give it back, but you can't come over
anymore."

   "Not ever?"

   "We can still be friends, you just won't be welcome in her house."

   "Like I'd still be welcome after she sees what's on it!"

   "She's seen video of me.  She hasn't kicked me out of the house.  Would
it kill you to let her watch it?  After this, if there's something you
don't want her to see we can watch it at your place."

   "Ok, but if she starts getting weird around me we'll have to hang out
somewhere else.  While we're talking about embarrassing stuff, Debbie
called me.  You told her I was doing you?"

   "Sort of, she told me, then after I opened my big mouth I found out she
was guessing.  What did she have to say about it?"

   "She asked me not to tell you, afraid you'd get mad at her, stuff about
you and guys."

   "Like calling me a queer?"

   "Uh-uh, she said you're not that way.  If you're out on the beach
looking for the smallest swimsuit, it'll be wrapped around a girl.  You
can't *get* horny enough to go looking for a guy.  But, well, that doesn't
keep guys from looking for you."

   "She thinks I'd get mad about that?"

   "No, the other stuff she said, like you're the horniest boy she ever
met. If some guy makes you do it, well, it's still sex.  You, uh, kind of
want that.  Like, having sex means more to you than having a choice.  She
said that I should stop asking you."

   "Why would that make me mad?"

   "Listen to me.  She said I should stop *asking*.  Telling me it's ok is
almost too weird for you.  You don't want me hitting on you like you're my
girlfriend.  If I'm really so horny I don't care where I stick it, I should
go ahead and make you do it.  You won't fight.  You won't even whine about
it, unless I go nuts and start doing it every time we're together.  As long
as it's just something we do once in a while and I don't bug you about it
when we're doing other stuff, we can go on being friends.  Is that true? 
Would you still be my best friend after I went all pervo on you?"

   Well, would he?  The first time was sort of a special thing, kind of
proving what he told his friend was for real.  Since then, well, how many
times could they do it, "just this once"?  He stood there fidgeting, unable
to look at his friend.  This little patch of woods in the middle of a
cornfield was about as private as they could get.  He noticed the sunlight
filtering through the leaves, the early summer warmth, even the mosquitoes
hadn't followed them this far from the river.  He wasn't scared that Billy
would get mean, maybe a little worried his friend would, "go nuts", if he
really could do it anytime he felt like it.  What would that be like,
having Billy's hardon in his mouth or ass anytime, anywhere?  Later he'd
blush over skipping right to how often instead of thinking about yes or no.
Billy got tired of waiting.

   "Take your clothes off."

   Oh God!  Was he serious?  How could he sound that sure?  Before Timmy
could think about it too much he pulled off his tee shirt and pushed his
jeans and underpants down around his ankles.  For a minute he stood there
shifting his weight from foot to foot before he managed to slip out of his
tennies and step away from the pile.

   Billy smiled as he unzipped and pulled his cock and balls out through
the open fly.  "I heard a rumor you get a bigger kick out of it when you're
the only one that has to get bare.  Down on your knees and put your hands
behind your back.  I want to watch you get hard sucking my dick.  Debbie
says you can't help it.  You feel a cock getting hard in your mouth, get a
little taste of pre-cum and can't even pretend it's not getting you hot. 
Is it giving that kind of pleasure that does it for you?  Or is it the
tease, knowing this is only the warm up and I'm going to feel even better
when I start shoving it into you?  Don't try to answer.  It doesn't matter.
Do I see you drooling?  Don't waste good spit.  Use your fingers to work it
into your ass hole.  Get it sloppy wet, nice and relaxed."

   Timmy was almost too surprised to be embarrassed, almost.  Billy, at
least the Billy he'd known most of his life wasn't like this.

   "Damn that feels good.  Ok, my dick's as hard as it gets.  Hope your ass
is nice and wet.  Drop down on your hands and knees while I get behind you.
Don't whimper like that!  I didn't have to push *that* hard to get the head
inside.  Now, do it, shove your ass back onto my dick.  That's it.  Pull
off a little and do it again.  Keep it up til I cum.  It won't take long.
I'm already most of the way there.  Oh shit, I almost forgot, you have to
jerk off."

   "WHAT?!"

   "It's really super important that you cum while I'm doing it.  Don't
argue.  You better do it fast.  I don't know how long I can hold back."

   He couldn't tell which of them finished first.  Billy's cock was still
in and still hard when Timmy's load splashed the dry leaves.  That had to
count as, "doing it", right?  Neither of them felt like talking as Timmy
got dressed and Billy led the way back to the bush by the river where they
hid their fishing rods.  Finding exactly the right spot didn't seem so
important anymore.  Getting a line wet gave them an excuse for not talking
a while longer.

   "Why?"

   "Huh?"

   "Why was it so important for me to cum?"

   "Debbie said so.  Look, uh, she never actually told me, but from the way
she was talking I thought she was filling me in on stuff you already
discussed.  Like, this is the way you want it but it's too embarrassing to
come right out and ask.  If anything didn't go the way you expected you
need to talk to her first."

   Oh yeah, he was going to talk to her all right.

   Part 9 (Mb bg bb Fdom)



   Debbie knew she was in trouble the minute she laid eyes on him.  She
didn't have to guess twice about why Timmy was pissed.

   "I don't know if I should thank you or spank you."

   "Either one doesn't completely rule out the other.  While you're making
up your mind, are you at least honest enough to admit you got what you
wanted?"

   "You think I wanted my best friend to...?"

   "I'm sorry.  I guess I rushed things a little with you and Billy."

   "Rushed things?!  Is that what you call conning my best friend into
raping me?"

   "Yeah, I rushed things.  Not that much, and I didn't con anybody.  Can
you honestly tell me that it wouldn't have played out the same way if he
got the idea on his own?"

   "He wouldn't have.  He's my *friend*."

   "Ok, he's your friend.  He's also as horny as you are.  He knows what
you're doing with Bob, that you like it.  That's what you're really afraid
of, isn't it?  A stranger is just sex.  You're afraid that if you want
Billy to do it, he'll think you're queer."

   He started to stammer and blush so she dropped the subject.  Somehow he
didn't think he'd be able to let it go so easily.  An afternoon spent
fishing with Billy confirmed his suspicions.

   "How did it start, with your uncle?"

   "What do you mean?"

   "Well, dad died when I was really young.  None of his side of the family
wanted to hang with mom.  She didn't have any brothers, no sisters either.
I can sort of imagine having grown up male relatives, like if I was related
to some of the guys we have for neighbors.  Ok?"

   "Yeah.  What about it?"

   "How does somebody you know like that, who knows you too, suddenly start
perving on you?

   "I'm not sure.  I started spending the first two weeks of summer
vacation there when I was in, like, third grade.  It took me less than a
week to discover his porn collection.  I don't know if he didn't catch me
looking or just wasn't ready to make a move.  Last year he caught me
jerking off.  I was like, oh shit, what now?  Before I could do more than
stammer he dropped his own pants and started jerking to the same video. 
That would have been weird enough.  Uh, it was a queer tape."

   "Oh, wow."

   "Yeah.  Well, he dug out a bottle of lube and got his dick slippery. 
When I asked if it felt better that way, instead of handing me the lube, he
started jacking me.  Next thing I know he's shoving a finger up my ass,
then two, then...  I tried to stop him.  It was too embarrassing for words
and it fuckin' *hurt*.  Afterwards I'm like, stunned.  He's acting like
what he did was...  not normal or right, but...  I mean, he didn't come
right out and say it, just acted like, 'Yeah, I fucked you, what ya gonna
do about it?', like a bully who got the best of you."

   "You didn't tell?"

   "Tell who?  If my folks picked me up right then, yeah, I would have said
something.  It was the day after they dropped me.  They didn't even call to
check on me for almost a week.  If he just left me alone for twenty minutes
I might have worked up the nerve to call the cops.  Instead, we watched a
normal movie.  At least I sat in front of the TV.  Don't ask me what it was
about.  He was waiting for me when I got ready for bed, leading me back to
his room.  I don't know how long I laid there with his arm across my chest,
listening to him snore and staring at the ceiling in the dark.  I must have
fell asleep.  The next thing I know the sun is up, my PJ pants are off and
he's sucking my cock.  When he noticed I was awake he wanted to switch.  It
was like, totally gross but he made it plain that the only way I could keep
it out of my ass was to open my mouth."

   "Sounds sort of like Bob.  He pretends I can get him off like that, then
most of the time he'll finish in my ass anyhow."

   "Uh huh, I learned that pretty quick.  I learned more than I wanted
faster than I would have believed.  Not that I would have believed anything
like that could happen to me.  By the time my folks got there to pick me up
I was cumming about half the time he did stuff and washing his meat in the
shower afterwards.  Now, most of the year he's my uncle.  There's no,
'remember when', or trying to grab ass.  My folks get so busy planning
their own vacation they don't notice how much I'm *not* looking forward to
being dumped out in the sticks.  Even if they did, they'd think it was last
minute stress from the final week of school.  I don't really try to talk
them out of it.  It's like they're single again for those two weeks.  This
is gonna sound warped but I'm not sure finding out what he's doing would be
enough to make them give up their private time."

   "You gotta' be kidding!"

   "Uh-uh.  They're not like your mom.  If they walked in on it, they'd do
something.  If they found out by seeing pictures or a video, they might
just pretend not to know.  Like, if I'm not upset enough to call the cops,
whatever he's doing can't be *that* bad.  I mean, if I really didn't want
it I'd have said *something*.  Even before they picked me up, sooner or
later he'd get careless, give me a chance to get away.  Like you and Bob."

   "What do you mean?"

   "When you first found out what Bob wanted, you had to play along or take
a chance on not making it home.  But it really started before that, didn't
it?  Were you lying when you told him about wanting to be the girl?  I
don't mean you were thinking about it when he drove up.  You didn't get
into his van the first time intending to do anything.  Was it that big a
surprise to find out he was going to make you do it?"

   "I was scared sick, totally embarrassed, at least I was then.  Compared
to some of the stuff I did since...  When he gave me the chance to walk
away I was so relieved I thought I was going to pass out."

   "So why'd you get back in the van?"

   "This is gonna sound dumb.  Once I started trying to make sure he would
let me go afterwards, I sort of stopped thinking about trying to get away.
Like, I'm walking away and thinking, how far do I have to go for him to be
sure he couldn't catch me?  This lady was working in her flower bed.  She
looked up and I smiled at her.  She smiled back.  I could have talked to
her, asked to use her phone, whatever.  Instead I turned around and started
back to the van, wondering what else I could do to convince him I'll never
tell.  I was already locked into what I was doing so tight the idea that I
could keep walking and not have to do it went right past me."

   "What about the other part of it?  I don't get off on being my uncles
bitch.  The first few times were pretty rough.  Now, I can do it, even cum
sometimes, but it's not my thing.  My uncle thinks it isn't gay as long as
you pitch instead of catch.  I'd rather be with a girl but when I get horny
enough..."

   "A hole is a hole?."

   "Yeah, well, say the word and it won't happen again.  I'm not going to
give you a rough time over it either way."

   "It's weird, like I'm supposed to hate it, supposed to be mad at you for
doing it."

   "But you're not?"

   "It's all messed up.  I'm not queer.  At least I don't think so.  I
don't know any queers, except for Harold and he's mom's friend not mine. 
I'm not gonna fall in love with a guy.  Anyway, it doesn't feel evil, it's
a different sort of wrong, like a barking cat.  Maybe that's part of the
thrill, why it's so hot to have some pervo *make* me do stuff.  I guess if
thinking about it gets me horny it isn't fair to be mad at anybody doing
it."

   "I'm glad you aren't mad at me.  Uh, I'm starting to get some idea of
what my uncle gets out of it.

   "Oh?"

   "It's like, something extra.  I mean, he's still my uncle.  We still do
all the stuff we did when that's all he was.  After he started fucking me
though, even when we're doing other stuff it's there, sort of in the
background.  Like, I could make you do it right here, right now."

   "It would be crazy stupid.  Lots of people walk along the river."

   "Yeah, but you'd do it.  Like the game has changed and that's one of the
new rules.  There's something else to think about."

   "What?"

   "Remember what you said about how it compares to jacking off?

   "Yeah, so?"

   "I don't have to jack off now.  I still want a girl of my own but until
I find one, you're it."

   "Gimme a break!  I won't be able to walk by the end of the week!"

   Billy snickered.  "I'll bet Debbie said damn near the same thing.  Did
it slow you down any?"

   "Some...  maybe...  but it's not the same.  A girls muffin is built to
take it."

   "Ok, I'll do it like Bob or my uncle, let you use your hands and mouth
to get me close then finish in your ass.  Maybe you can get Debbie to help.
She looks so hot in a crop top and shorts I'm half way there by the time
she walks up to say hi."

   "No kidding.  She might.  Uh, she likes to hear about it.  But...  So
far she's the only girl who found out that didn't ask me to let her watch.
I don't want to mess that up."

   Timmy was still nervous but every minute that passed was that much
closer to the next stranger wandering past.  The only thing he could
imagine worse than getting caught would be knowing he could have been done
and gone.  As soon as he could put some bushes between them and the
riverbank, he dropped to his knees and threw a lip lock on his friends
cock. Billy could talk about fucking like an old guy but when it came to
actually doing anything he popped his load as fast as any other horny kid.
Things got pretty quiet as they started walking home.

   "Hey?  Uh?  I'm sorry."

   "Stop it!  Look, I don't see Bob that much anymore since he got fired at
the kennel.  When I was hanging out with him, it wasn't like, rape rape
rape all the time I was there.  Mostly it was normal, talking guy stuff,
tossing a Frisbee, going fishing, like that.  Sure, he could make me, "be a
girl", whenever he wanted.  There was always a little bit of that sort of
echoing in the background.  Knowing exactly *what* kind of girl I would
have to be was scary and embarrassing enough I really didn't want to spend
to much time thinking about it.  Not all the "new rules" are for me.  You
can make me do it.  I'll let you get away with it, but stop acting like I
had a choice.  Ok?"

   "Uh, ok."

   Not too much later Debbie kissed him then giggled and asked, "Do I taste
cock?".  She busted out laughing at his reaction.

   "No, Billy didn't call me while you were on the way over.  You told me
what happened the last time you went fishing.  If he's half as horny as you
are he wouldn't miss a chance."

   "Yeah, well, you were the one that told him to quit asking."

   It was Debbie's turn to blush.  "I, uh, sort of have a confession to
make, about that.  It's not exactly what I was trying to tell him.  I was a
little early and we were talking while we waited for you.  He wasn't
hitting on me.  He's not the kind of guy who'd try to steal your girl.  He
wanted advice on how to get a girls pants off.  I told him you had more
practice being that kind of girl and maybe he should be more like Bob and
less worried about asking."

   "More like Bob, huh?  Does that include telling Billy I had to cum while
he did it?"

   "Uh...  Oh God, you're gonna totally hate me!  The creep who did me was
always pestering me to play with myself while he did it.  When I asked my
counselor about it later, she told me it was almost a standard thing with
perverts.  The kids are less likely to tell if they have an orgasm. 
They're afraid people will think they wanted it.  She, uh, she said it's
even worse for boys.  He can see if you're hard, watch you squirt.  If he
makes you do it enough, it can get to be like that thing where a doctor
whacks your knee."

   "A reflex?"

   "Yeah, only instead of making your leg jump, making your dick squirt."

   "You want me to be like that?  To cum anytime some creep makes me do
stuff?"

   "Not exactly.  The big thrill for me is the same thing that gets you so
hot, a straight man being horny enough that he'll do it to a boy if he
can't find a girl.  I *love* that my crazy horny boyfriend thinks being
forced by a creep is better than no sex at all.  I want you to cum when
you're being a girl for some perv, now that I know you like being used that
way."

   "It's all so messed up.  I've been afraid everybody would find out I was
some kind of weirdo since that day at the bus stop, when you told us that
creeps sometimes do it to boys."

   "When you were already stiff thinking about him doing it to me?  Then
stayed hard imagining yourself in my place?"

   "Don't you think that's pretty sick?"

   "Completely twisted, just like some of the stuff I did with the creep
that was using me.  It was enough to make me want to be your girlfriend. 
The stuff I learned later just locked it up.  I soak my panties thinking
about you getting with some guy, knowing he's going to make you do it.  The
idea of him on you, in you, not caring if he's fucking a girl or boy gets
me so damn hot.  I like being your girlfriend.  You're smart and fun to be
with.  You understand what I'm really like and you want to hang with me
anyway."

   By the time he made it home Timmy wasn't exactly worn out.  For the
moment sex wasn't at the top of his list.  It didn't even bother him much
when his mom flashed him *that* smile from across the dinner table.

   "I'd guess you've found ways to keep yourself occupied.  Relax, I'm not
going to tease you about it.  This is as good a time as any to let you know
I'm in the process of setting up something special.  Today is Wednesday. 
I'm not going to order you to remain celibate until Saturday afternoon. 
Why should I give you an excuse to jack yourself silly?  I want to offer
you the opportunity to abstain.  What I have in mind will probably be more
satisfying if you're somewhat frustrated when we begin."

   That night, waiting to nod off, he slipped his hand inside his sleeping
shorts and indifferently fondled his penis.  "opportunity to abstain", huh?
He didn't particularly need or even want another orgasm today.  While it
wouldn't be too hard to hold off for a couple days, by the weekend he'd be
horny as a two peckered goat.  Is that what she wanted?  Or was she
expecting him to keep popping his nuts until whatever she was planning
wasn't any more than the cherry on top of a sex sundae?  Trying to figure
out his moms plan just so he could do the opposite was stupid.  What did
*he* want?

   Three days later he still wasn't sure but it was the longest dry stretch
since Bob had asked him not to while he made up his mind about being an
"alternate girl".  Thinking about how *that* turned out would have
overwhelmed the last of his willpower, if his mom hadn't been waiting when
he got home from his job at the kennel.

   "Hi hon, wash off the dog smell and meet me downstairs.  Don't bother
getting dressed.  I have some clothes for you to try on."

   Shortly, he came down the stairs toweling his hair, wearing nothing but
briefs.

   "The stockings might be a little tricky.  Put your thumbs inside and use
your fingers to bunch them until you get down to the toe.  The shoes aren't
exactly, 'fuck me', pumps but the heels are too high to look right with
knee socks.  You'll have less chance of falling off of them if they're a
little on the tight side.  You won't be walking far and if they hurt your
feet it might take your mind off of other things."

   She picked up something like an elastic spider that turned out to be a
garter belt.

   "It's not like the stockings alone aren't sexy enough.  The thing is, if
you're moving around a lot you'll have to keep pulling them up.  Ditch the
shorts.  I've got something else for you but you'll want to be able to take
it off without having to undo this thing."

   Something else turned out to be they guy version of a thong.  At least
it had more room for his balls than the average pussy patch.  If he got
stiff it was still going to poke up past the top.  Not that it would
matter, the thing was almost transparent and wasn't hiding anything anyway.
Next she handed him something like a short bathrobe.  When he tried it on
it the bottom edge didn't even drop to mid thigh.

   "Perfect!  We still need something on top.  I'll try to find a scarf or
choker, maybe something leather if you want to look punk.  Wait here."

   She returned in a few minutes with a sheer scarf that matched the shade
of the thigh highs fairly well.  Billy was startled to see she also had her
coat and handbag.

   "MOM!  I can't go anywhere like this!"

   "Don't be silly.  Throw your coat on and you'll be more dressed than
some girls on the street.  Besides, we're late.  The others will be there
already."

   "Others?  What others?  Where are we going?"

   "Not too far.  I'll explain in the car."

   Part 10 (M+b Fdom)



   The place was out of town but not a farm house.  It was built after the
small farms in the area had been consolidated or broken up for building
lots.  Just a normal suburban ranch style home with enough space around it
to discourage curious neighbors.  No one lived close enough to ask about
the cars in the driveway.

   "One of my clients is a real estate broker.  She'll be selling this
place soon but right now it's tied up in probate so it isn't being shown.
We were talking about a warning she received regarding showing places at
odd hours to unknown clients and I asked her to do me the favor of letting
me use the place to play out a fantasy.  She didn't ask for details and I
didn't tell her that it wasn't my fantasy.

   "Since that last episode of yours I've been e-mailing Ellie and texting
Bob.  While your behavior was shocking, even scandalous, I've been forced
to concede that you had some justification.  You felt I had pressured you
into the situation and it was the easiest, possibly the only way you had to
lash out.  Bob told me of a conversation where you expressed an intense
desire to do something outrageously rebellious while admitting the rules
I've imposed are for your own health and safety.  Ellie is convinced I want
to be shocked, that witnessing the sexual abuse of my son is as addictive
as it is offensive.  She may be right."

   Timmy's head snapped around to glare at the stranger he thought was his
mother.  She refused to look at him, staring forward through the windshield
of the parked car.

   "Just for the record, she thinks you're living proof the golden rule
doesn't work.  The last thing on earth that should happen to any young girl
is for you to do unto her as you would like to be done to.  She does give
you credit for keeping sick nasty pervs away from decent people.  If your
role play keeps one innocent kid from getting raped for real she's in favor
of it."

   "What about you?"

   "Well hon, that's complicated.  Right now, I think you should come
inside with me.  Bob is here but the guy we're waiting for hasn't arrived
yet.  You'll meet him at the door and invite him in.  He's expecting a girl
home alone so he's going to be startled and will probably panic when he
sees the rest of us.  It will work better if I explain to everyone at the
same time.  So, let's go."

   Mary got out and walked around the front of the car to stand by the
passenger door.  He actually thought about refusing but had to admit he
knew from the start what sort of costume party this was going to be.  At
least he knew more about it than the guy who knocked on the front door a
short time later.  If he was surprised that Timmy didn't look very girlish
it was immediately topped by Bob stepping out from behind the door and
escorting him to the kitchen.  Relieving him of the paper bag he carried,
he shoved him into a chair across the table from Mary, then covered the
exit.  Gesturing Timmy to the remaining chair, his mom started talking.

   "Hello Martin, if that's your real name, we might as well start with you
showing me some ID.  Just drop your wallet on the table.  If you behave
yourself you'll get it back.  If you don't do as you're told, the wallet
will be the least of your worries."

   She checked a couple pieces of ID and riffled through the bills to get a
rough estimate without stopping to make a full count.

   "What's in the bag Bob?"

   "A six pack, condoms, and a tube of KY."

   "Six pack, sex pack, and lube, huh?"

   "I can explain!"

   "I'm sure you can Martin.  Nice of you to use your real name by the way.
If I had nothing better to do than listen to some interesting fiction I
might let you try.  We only have use of the hall for the afternoon and I'd
rather we get the most out of it.  This is Tina, or would be if he was
really the girl you met in that chat room.  You should know Timmy, that
Martin thinks you're so mature and worldly for a twelve year old that he
just had to meet you in person.  Of course, in chat, Martin is sixteen and
borrowing his mom's car to come over here.  While he's closer to forty it
might actually be his mom's car if they both live at the same address. 
Forgive me.  That was a cheap shot.  While I don't mind embarrassing the
pervert stalking my child there is no need to be petty."

   "I want a lawyer!"

   "No you don't.  Let me assure you, the very last thing you would want
right now is a lawyer.  You see, that would mean I turned over the chat log
and the pictures you sent to the police and you would be under arrest.  The
only time anyone is concerned about their rights is when those rights are
being taken away.  No, we're still casual acquaintances chatting around the
kitchen table.  If you're smart you'll do what you can to keep it that way.

   "I could give the logs to Timmy.  Some of your suggestions were
interesting and he might like to know what he offered to let you do. 
Seeing him embarrassed doesn't bother me as much as it used to.  However
there isn't any reason for gratuitous humiliation.  Let me bring you up to
speed and we'll see where it goes from there.

   "My son probably isn't any more obsessed with sex than the average
pubescent male.  They're all candidates for protective restraint.  What he
does have is a little extra empathy.  I'm not sure if he started wondering
what it would be like for the girl before or after he found out that some
perverts didn't care as long as their fuck toy was young enough.  While we
haven't discussed it in detail I'd wager he explored countless variations
of the same basic fantasy before encountering it in real life.

   "Timmy isn't homosexual and certainly not trans-gender.  He's not
looking for some guy to fall in love with.  He's way too boyish to even
consider becoming a girl in either the social or biological sense.  What
captured his imagination is the idea of an adult straight man being so
aroused, so eager to have sex with a twelve year old, that the gender of
the child is irrelevant."

   "You're shittin' me!"

   "Nope, it's the straight, well maybe slightly bent, truth.  He's a
substitute girl, an alternative girlfriend, target of opportunity for a
mindless erection.  At least he is now.  At first he didn't have the nerve
to actually try it.  There were far too many fantasies closer to the
mainstream burbling up in the hormone drenched lump of gray matter he uses
for a brain.  While I doubt that he was subconsciously seeking to fulfill
his fantasy the afternoon he climbed into a strangers van, having mentally
rehearsed the role so many times allowed him to perform in a manner that
may have saved his life."

   "So, he's not a...?"

   "A virgin?  Not hardly.  His first experience with a man was
uncomfortable in more than a physical sense.  It was humiliating, even
frightening.  Perhaps the most degrading aspect was being unable to conceal
his state of sexual arousal, culminating in a rather intense orgasm.  His
first time with a girl was quite tame in comparison, though much more
satisfying.  His preference is clear.  However, the excitement of this
unusual role play became addictive almost immediately.  I've since learned
that it was only his second experience along these lines when I
inadvertently walked in on him."

   "You mean he was..."

   "Bare naked, receiving anal intercourse, and quite vocal.  I was beyond
shocked.  Certainly I was aware of degenerates serving prison time for this
sort of thing.  I also expected some degree of experimentation on the part
of a boy entering puberty.  To discover my supposedly innocent little boy,
being sexually abused by some pervert for their mutual gratification was...
there simply are no words.

   "If I didn't care about Timmy more than anyone on earth I...  I don't
know what I'd have done.  There just isn't any sort of automatic response
to something so far outside prior experience.  I tried to be understanding,
supportive and non-judgmental.  The more I researched the subject, the less
inclined I was to give him the benefit of my doubts.  Recent events tore
the whole issue wide open.

   "I abused my parental authority by putting him in a wildly inappropriate
situation.  Maybe I was trying to push him so far past his limits he'd
reconsider what he was doing.  Maybe that's nothing but an excuse to
justify my own perversity.  You don't need the details.  Unable to resist
or escape, he rebelled by escalating the assault into something completely
depraved.  As if to say, 'You think that's nasty?  Watch this.' I didn't so
much lose control of the situation as have my face rubbed in the fact that
I never really had that control to begin with.  I was the one forced to
reconsider her role in how things played out.  Never in my life have I been
so deeply ashamed of anything I've done.

   "Until now."

   "Uh?  Mom?"

   "What dear?"

   "You can't actually make me do it with a total stranger.  You just
*can't*."

   "Don't be silly hon.  I'm your mother."

   "I was beginning to wonder."

   "I can make you do anything with anybody, just this once, or over and
over until you forget how to blush and can hardly walk."

   That certainly got their attention.  You could have heard a mosquito
fart.

   "Oh my, that wasn't very ladylike was it?  Since none of the etiquette
books have a chapter on pimping your child I'm sort of flying blind here. I
know we don't have the time to dance around the subject with polite
euphemisms and everyone too embarrassed to ask for what they really want.

   "So Martin, 'Tina', made it quite clear that normal intercourse was out
of the question.  After she expressed a willingness to experiment with oral
and anal, whether she actually has a vagina hardly seems relevant.  I doubt
if anyone trolling for preteens could be described as a, 'tit man'.  The
girl you wanted to hook up with doesn't exist.  However, there may be a
reasonable facsimile available."

   "You actually want me to have sex with your son?"

   "Of course not!"

   "But mom..."

   "Yes Timmy?"

   "You just made a big thing about being able to make me do it."

   "And I can.  Unfortunately the reverse isn't true.  I can't stop you
from doing anything you want badly enough.  Your last session with Bob is a
perfect example.  Having set things in motion, I was certainly in no
position to object when you took them in a direction that shocked and
embarrassed me.  My first impulse was to punish you, but really, if I
didn't want to know I shouldn't have asked.  Bob and Ellie shared that
opinion.  In fact, they were amused that you'd discovered a way to push
back at me for trying to micro-manage your sex life.  Ellie thinks you
should be able to, 'throw it in my face', that way any time I get too
annoying."

   "It really upsets you that much?" Ellie told me it makes you horny."

   "I?  I don't want it to.  It isn't fun.  I feel like the worlds
creepiest pervert.  It's like, when I see you and Billy together I can't
help thinking about a couple of cute kids having fun.  If I'm in the room
while some pervert is raping you, I become physically aroused.  The more
intense your own experience, the greater effect it has on me.  The, uh,
activity doesn't have to be enjoyable, just intense."

   "What about Bob?"

   "Today he's insurance, like having a spotter when you're lifting weights
or a bouncer at a club."

   "I don't have to fuck him?"

   She flinched a little at the crude language.

   "Him or anyone else.  I'd be much happier if you didn't."

   As far as he knew, his mom had never lied to him.  There were things she
didn't tell him.  There were times he would have done something different
if he knew more about what was going on.  But she had never actually lied
to him.  He stood up, took the wallet from the table, and gave it back to
Martin.

   "When we get home I'll make sure she deletes the other stuff."

   "Thanks kid.  This whole thing is just too weird."

   "Is it?  Really?  People get horny for different reasons.  Using that to
make you play her way, that's wrong.  But the rest of it?  If I pretend
that some old guy is using me instead of a young girl, well, there are guys
like that, right?  If one of them wants to play with me instead of making
some girl do it for real?  Ok, it's illegal, and perverted, and I don't
even want to think about my friends and neighbors finding out what I do. 
But is it really so bad?  Show me your cock."

   "What?!"

   "Slide your chair back from the table, open your fly, and pull out your
cock.  Don't be shy.  I'm not going to be embarrassed if you have a hardon
or offended if you don't.  Nobody is going to force you but if you don't we
all might as well go home."

   He was obviously nervous and embarrassed, more so as Timmy knelt between
his spread thighs.

   "I haven't seen a lot of them.  It looks nice.  I bet I can get it
really hard.  Will you let me play with it?"

   "Here?  In front of everybody?"

   "Uh huh, mom's the only one that might get upset and right now I can't
imagine anybody caring what she thinks."

   "I've never done anything with a boy."

   "Don't think of it like that.  I'm young and horny and I'll make you
feel sooo good if you let me.  She talked me into not doing anything for a
few days.  I could go home and get off solo but it's better if I can make
her sorry she dragged me into this.  You can't actually slap her around for
tricking you.  Isn't making her uncomfortable the next best thing?"

   "When you put it that way?  go for it."

   While she wasn't in a position to see exactly what her son was doing,
the shared looks and grins of the men told her Timmy was pretty damn good
at it.  Kissing, licking, stroking the shaft, then waiting to make eye
contact before wrapping his lips around the head for another taste of
pre-cum.  They were pretty sure nothing was going to make Martin leave
before getting a load off when Timmy stood up.

   "You like my costume?  Bob likes me to wear lipstick sometimes.  With
it, in girl clothes, it can be hard to tell if I'm a girl, or something
else."

   Slipping the waist belt of the robe he let it slide down his arms and
fall behind him.  While his own erection made it obvious he was a boy, the
scarf, nylons, and heels left what sort of boy open to debate.  It was time
to remove any doubts.

   "I know I'm taking a chance.  Your cock looked nice, and smelled nice,
and the taste of pre-cum is so much better than latex.  If you want to use
one now that's ok.  But if you have anything nasty I probably already
caught it, and it will drive mom nuts if you ride me bareback.  I'd kind of
like that."

   With the tube of KY in one hand, he bent over until his upper chest
rested on the table and spread his legs.

   "I don't need to stretch it.  You'll have more fun if I'm nice and
tight. I do need to get it really slippery and relaxed enough that you
won't tear me up.  Right mom?  You wouldn't want me *injured* while I'm
being raped, would you?  Get next to me so she can see me stroking you
while I get your cock nice and slippery too."

   It wasn't long before he had everything as wet as it was going to get.

   "Now get behind me.  Pull the thong down far enough you can put the head
of your cock against my hole.  Don't shove!  Hold still and let me push
myself onto you.  Hey mom!  Don't pretend to be looking somewhere else. 
Bob couldn't drag you away from this.  Uh!  There, the head's inside.  Grab
my hips.  Go a little deeper, then pull back until my hole is gripping the
shaft right behind the head.  Oh?  yesss!  Again, slow and easy, a little
deeper this time.  That's it.  Take your time.  Sometimes it's fun to think
about some sex creep just pulling my pants down and ramming it in.  In real
life this is better.  Don't you think so, mom?"

   "I?  Uh..."

   "Maybe that's what you really want, some gorilla ripping my clothes off
so he can make me a woman.  Too bad, today is all about making Martin
happy. I'll bet from where he's standing I look exactly like a skinny,
short haired girl.  Do you want to run your hands over my flat chest?  Play
with my hard little nipples?  Am I girl enough for you?"

   "Oh Christ!"

   "Yeah.  Like that.  In some ways I'm better than a girl.  I know
*exactly* how it feels to have a hot slippery hole around your cock.  I
know more than a girl ever will about the pleasure you're feeling from
making me do it.  In a completely different way I'm exactly like a girl,
not just any girl, I'm talking about that perverted bitch I have for a
mother.  I understand the thrill she gets seeing her innocent little boy
stripped and forced to please a man.  I feel it too, so strong nothing else
matters.  Isn't that right mom?"

   For a minute her mouth worked as if she was trying to say something but
the words just wouldn't come.  Then she sat there blushing, until his next
words drained the blood from her face.

   "You'll lie to yourself or anyone else, pretend to care about my
welfare, say you're protecting me.  Then break the law, set me up with the
kind of people you wouldn't admit you know, let them get their kicks so you
can get yours.  Well I have a special treat for you.  Get out of that
chair. Lie down on the floor, on your back, with your face under me. 
You're gonna have a pervs eye view of my dick waving around while his is in
me.  We're going to do a little, "chicken or egg", kind of experiment. 
We'll find out if the thought of cumming on your face while he fucks me is
enough of an extra special thrill to make me cum on your face while he
fucks me.  Go on, don't worry about us.  We're not going to think any worse
of you than we already do."

   Mary got up feeling like this had to be a dream or some sort of
hallucination.  Being in the same room with Timmy while a pervert used him
was already past kinky.  This was so over the top that she didn't want to,
didn't want to even try, to imagine what might happen if she *didn't* do as
she was told.

   "You missed some of the pre-cum.  That's ok.  You know right where to
put the back of your head.  Best if you get under the table with your head
towards my feet.  That way I'll still cum on you even if I overshoot.  I
don't think you need to ask me if I care about cum stains on your clothes.
I suppose you could take them off.  Nobody here is going to waste time
staring at an attention whore when they could be watching a real one.  Ooh,
maybe I'm wrong.  You couldn't see the way Martin's cock jumped inside me
at the thought of you laying there naked, waiting to be my catch rag."

   A last few thrusts ended with the guy buried to the hilt, grinding his
wiry pubes against Timmy's ass.

   "Oops!  It feels like Martin just got happy.  I'm not quite there yet.
How about it Bob?  Think you can push me over the finish line?"

   "You're definitely your mothers son, you perverted little slut.  You
want to guilt trip her for what she did?  Ok, I'll help you play that game.
But don't try to bullshit me.  I'm not so blind I can't recognize a spite
fuck when I see one."

   "You think I'm fucking my mom?"

   "Better.  You've got her so knotted up inside she doesn't know whether
to frig herself silly or get professional help.  So...  I'm hot and hard
and ready to fuck the snot out of some skinny little slut that hasn't even
got tits yet.  I guess her invitation to the party got lost.  I could go
out and find her, or..."

   "?  use me instead?  In front of my mom and the random perv she set me
up with?  Oh God, yesss!  Do it!  Make me be a girl!"

   "Feel the head of my dick against your hole?  Push yourself onto it.  Oh
yeah!  That's my girl!  Again!  If I'm going to make you do it, I might as
well make you do the work.  I don't even need to see your cock to know
you're hard enough to drive nails.  You're such a twisted little perv. 
It's not the sex that's getting you hot.  It's being used, knowing the
pleasure your tight slippery ring is giving me as you stroke my cock with
it."

   Timmy felt it let go, his first hands free orgasm.  His mom was under
the table he was bent over.  He didn't actually see her get splashed?  was
a little surprised to realize he didn't really care.  It didn't matter to
him as much as he thought it would.  Everyone was pretty quiet as the party
broke up, embarrassed that things had gotten so out of control.  Or at
least wanting to believe they had lost control over what happened.  A few
days later he was at the kitchen table while his mom got supper ready.

   "Bob called.  I?  Uh?  there isn't much point in having a chaperon."

   "I guess?  unless?"

   She pretended to focus on the stove in front of her but they both knew
she was stirring a different pot.

   "Hon?  The truth isn't always?  pretty.  It hurt when Bob said we were
alike, you and I.  It was a little more truth than I was ready to deal
with. How much do you care about him?  Really?"

   "I don't know.  It's fun to have somebody older to hang out with.  After
he got fired I started to miss that.  The other stuff?  Well, you saw."

   "Uh-huh.  I saw it.  Maybe I'm even starting to understand it, or at
least accept it.  I'm not sure I'll ever fully understand how something can
be so repellent and arousing at the same time."

   "Yeah.  It's weird.  We call it being a girl but I don't think most
girls are like that.  What we do?  it isn't making love.  It isn't even
fucking, not for me, not like with Debbie.  I guess it's rape.  I'm a kid
and he isn't.  Even if I was older, somebody that much bigger could make me
do it."

   "Is he...  making you do it?"

   "I'm not sure anymore.  Before I found out that some creeps don't care
as long as you're young enough I never even thought about it...  you know?
with a man.  Then, when I thought about it, it was like the same thing only
backwards.  He was with a kid, not a boy, and I was with a sex creep, not a
man.  That I would get stiff thinking about it was more embarrassing than
exciting.  Then I met Bob and everything got sooo messed up I don't know
what to think anymore."

   "Bob was the first?"

   "Billy came later.  Uh, that sounds really bad."

   "It's Ok.  I know you didn't mean it like that.  I'm more concerned
about where this is going.  I suppose you could tell me it's personal and I
should mind my own business, even after what happened the other day. 
There's no way you can give informed consent at your age.  I'm more
concerned with what you actually wanted.  So, did he force you?"

   "It's not that simple."

   "Hon?  I know this isn't easy to talk about, even after, maybe
especially after?  recent events.  I think I know what you're trying to
say. You're not queer.  The whole sex with a man deal really isn't your
thing.  Your big thrill is being used."

   "Uh?  Yeah."

   "So, the harder it is for you to do it, the harder you get thinking
about it.  Eventually, you get so horny you're basically up for grabs."

   "What about you?"

   "What about me?"

   "You practically gave me to Martin and Harold.  Bob is getting to be
like, a dick you throw me on when nothing else is handy.  This time,
payback was letting Martin watch me cum on your face.  Bob couldn't really
see anything from where he was at.  What's next?  Tying me down and lining
them up?  Tying you down so any grubby street creep that doesn't want a boy
can fuck you instead?  Where does it end?"

   "This probably isn't the best time to tell you this, I don't know if
there is a *good* time.  Uh.  There was a camera going."

   "Crap!  That too?  I suppose you're going to upload it for all your perv
buddies online?"

   "I thought about it.  There's not much point.  By the time I edit out
anything that might identify who or where, what's left isn't very special.
It makes more sense to save it for people who already know what you're
doing."

   "Or people you want to make me do it with."

   "You know that isn't quite true.  I set up an opportunity.  Before that,
I didn't step up and tell Bob it wasn't going to happen after Ellie called
him in.  Ok, if it was just you and the creep something different would
have happened.  If it was Debbie instead of me something different would
have happened.  Does exactly how you get used really matter that much?"

   "I?  don't know anything anymore.  I need some time to think."

   part 11 (Mb bb bg Fdom)



   Debbie was waiting for him Saturday when he finished his morning shift
at the kennel.

   "Give me a chance to clean up and we can head for the park."

   "You don't need to hurry.  Your mom is cool."

   Timmy managed to hold his comments until they found a place away from
the other people using the park.

   "Uh, Debbie?"

   "Yeah?"

   "It might be better for us if you don't get too friendly with my mom."

   "Because she's a perv?"

   "Because she's my mom.  Even if we were some kind of G rated TV sitcom
family, everybody has awkward and embarrassing moments while they're
growing up.  Ok, the sex stuff is part of it.  I'm more worried about the
other stuff.  Parents have this nasty habit of turning things you wouldn't
tell your best friend on a dare into, "cute", stories."

   "Ok, you have a point."

   "Uh-huh.  It's bad enough if she's talking to your wife after you grow
up and have kids of your own.  Having her talking to my first real
girlfriend before we've even been together two months is scary."

   "Timmy?  I know about you and Billy doing more than, "experimenting",
like, letting him rape you until he can find a girlfriend of his own.  And
how it isn't just a favor to a friend, or not to only one friend.  I get so
wet thinking about the two of you together, you're doing it at least partly
for me.  We, Billy and me, we also know the other part.  That you think
it's hot to get raped by another boy and you're glad your girlfriend is ok
with it.  Your mom doesn't know this, does she?"

   "Oh God, I sure as hell hope not!"

   "Then there isn't anything, not...  one...  thing...  in your entire
life, she could tell me that would be a 'deal breaker'.  I don't know if
we'll be together forever.  I can't imagine meeting another guy who is half
as interesting as you are."

   "Uh, thanks?  I think.  If all of that isn't enough, things are starting
to get strange at the kennel."

   "Strange how?"

   "You know he doesn't have any girl dogs?  Besides boarding other peoples
pets he makes his money off of grooming and stud fees.  Sometimes he'll
take his pick of the litter instead of cash to replace a stud that's
getting too old or to get a more valuable breeding line."

   "Why no girls?"

   "The owner, Mr.  Nordstrom, says there are too many puppy mills as it
is. No matter what breed, he's more interested in improving the line than
adding raw numbers."

   "That makes sense."

   "Yeah, but avoiding one problem sort of leads to another.  Not all of
his boy dogs get the same chance to, uh, be boys.  After a while some of
them get really hard to deal with.  If they get in with another stud, they
fight, or..."

   "...or?  Oh!  They get like you and Billy?!"

   "Uh-huh, or they do both, fight AND fuck."

   "I suppose they could lick themselves."

   "Yeah, all of them can reach, but for some reason they don't.  Maybe
they can't stand the taste or maybe they just can't get off that way.  You
know, like trying to tickle yourself."

   "It must be evolution.  If teenage boys could reach the human race would
have been extinct before it started."

   "Yeah, well, part of my job now is keeping an eye on which ones are
getting too snarly and lending them a hand."

   "I'll try not to laugh too loud but a teen boy being paid to masturbate
is about the funniest thing I ever heard."

   "It's not like it was my dick getting the attention.  Bob used to joke
about finding out how much I really love dogs.  I didn't know how it is for
them.  The breeding part of the operation was shut down while the owners
were out of town.

   "Dogs aren't like, get it up and keep going until you get a load off. 
It's more of a two stage thing and its smell that gets them horny.  When
they first mount, they spend a little time hunching.  It's amazing how much
muscle they put into it.  A dog half my weight can shove me around while
I'm helping him out if I'm not braced for it.  Anyway, part of their cock,
down near the base keeps swelling up after the rest is already hard.  If
they get it in deep enough, soon enough, this knot swells up inside the
girl dog and he can't pull out.

   "They don't cum like people, it's thin and watery, almost like pre-cum.
Instead of a squirt at the end it starts to flow almost as soon as they're
hard.  Usually, once they're knotted, he'll throw one leg over her back and
they'll stand there ass to ass.  Technically that's the main event.  He's
cumming inside her, and cumming, and cumming, until his knot shrinks down
enough to pull out.  Only, it's not like they're enjoying it.  He's
finished hunching and they just stand there like they're waiting for a bus
or something."

   "That is weird."

   "That's not the weird part.  Lars, Mr.  Nordstrom, told me something. 
When he first got married they had three kids, a boy, a girl, and another
boy, one right after the other.  His wife wanted to get all the diapers,
and night feedings and other baby stuff done up front so they could get
into the fun part of raising kids.  They're grown up and moved away now.

   "One day when she was our age, the girl had a boy from school over
showing him around.  When the family business is a boarding and breeding
operation, a young boy isn't going to be overly interested in the boarding
side of it even if that's where most of the money comes from.  Lars never
found out how much of it was planned in advance or what combination of
teasing and threats it took to make it happen.  When he walked in the boy
was on his hands and knees with his pants off, knotted to one of their
dogs. His kids were standing around, talking about how they should get more
friends to watch the show, and which stud should be the next to mount their
bitch when this one let him go."

   "Oh my God!  What did he do?"

   "Chased his kids out, grabbed a towel off the grooming station, tossed
it over the boys ass while he tried to calm him down.  He was scared the
kid might really hurt himself trying to get away.  It must have been almost
over when he got there.  It was only a few minutes before the kid could
clean up enough to get dressed and gone.  His kids had split in three
different directions.  It was probably the only thing that kept them from
being grounded until they were old enough to vote.  He talked to each of
them before they could compare notes and got pretty much the same story.

   "The details were enough different that he could tell they didn't get
together to make something up.  She said her brothers knew about it.  They
said it was a surprise to catch her and the boy with the dog.  It could be
they were all telling the truth depending on what you mean by surprise and
exactly what they knew.  What they all agreed on was that it wasn't their
idea."

   "You're kidding!"

   "Nope.  Maybe it started as some tiny bit of curiosity and they ran with
it before the kid could back off.  Maybe they threatened to spread it
around school.  It would be the word of three against one and the louder he
denied it, the more people would believe it actually happened.  Whatever
the reason, he took his pants off and let her lube him up.  Remember what I
said about smell being the big thing for dogs?  While she was at the vet
cabinet getting the lube, she opened a bottle of scent and got some on her
fingers.  Because of schedule problems the female being bred isn't always
in full heat.  She can still get pregnant.  She just doesn't smell right to
the stud.  The girl made sure this bitch smelled hot and horny.  What she
forgot was that the dog she planned to use wasn't the only nose in the
kennel.  When she went back to get him every stud in the place started
doing the canine version of, 'My turn!  My turn!  Pick me!'."

   "Oh shit."

   "Yeah.  Her brothers showed up just in time to see the dogs growing knot
pop inside the boys ass.  Lars had some doubts about how much of that was
pure coincidence.  The only one who could call them liars was already gone.
He might have got the boys side of things before he left but the kid wasn't
interested in talking and under the circumstances Lars wasn't ready to lean
on him too hard.  His daughter was a little embarrassed to point out that
the boy had an erection...  she uh, she had tied a bell to it."

   "What?!"

   "It was kind of a mean thing to do.  She knew he'd be really embarrassed
about the noise it was making when the dog started thrusting.  There was
nothing he could do about it except try to hold still, instead of moving
with it and not getting fucked so hard."

   "Oh wow.  That's really evil.  There is no way this, 'just happened'. 
I'm not saying everybody knew everything in advance.  After the plan was
hatched it might have grown legs and got away from them.  That bell thing
though, she had to think about that ahead of time."

   "Yeah?  But?  Does that mean she was the only one to think about it?  Or
even the first one to have the idea?  When the kid left he took it with
him. Either he wanted a souvenir?  or it was his bell."

   "Oh."

   "Yeah...  oh.  So we're sitting on a low retaining wall with a dog on
the lawn between us, Lars holding its collar and me milking its dick.  I'm
thinking about Bob joking around and beginning to wonder if maybe he wasn't
joking, not completely.  The idea of actually doing it with an animal
wasn't any big thrill but I couldn't help thinking about the bell.  What
would it be like to have you tie it on me, knowing Billy was going to do me
dog style?  What would be hotter for you, listening to the bell, or hearing
me whimper and grunt while I'm trying to hold still so it doesn't ring?"

   "Or hearing both at once because you're pushing back to meet him half
way?"

   "If I thought of that at the kennel I probably would have cum in my
pants.  As it was, he quietly mentioned that all his dogs had a current
health check, nobody would pay a stud fee if they didn't.  Also, he and his
wife went out to lunch from noon to one every day and never got back in
less than forty-five minutes.  When he got up to return the dog to its pen,
he reminded me I needed to re-stack the new shipment of dog food at least
four feet in from the back wall.  There wasn't any video coverage where it
was at right now.  He was too far away to notice me blushing when I figured
it out.  He must have caught on that I had a stiffy and was telling me that
he wasn't too fussy about how I took care of a dog that needed some
attention."

   "I see what you mean about things getting strange.  Uh, I can't get past
the bell thing."

   "It is pretty hot, isn't it?"

   "Not just that, it's like, kinky in six different directions.  I'm the
only girl who knows what you do and hasn't been a pest about getting you to
let her watch, right?"

   "It makes you sort of special.  You can watch us if you really want to."

   "Thanks, for now I'd rather be special.  Besides, in some ways it's
hotter to have you tell me about it.  If I was watching, whatever I could
see would sort of push everything else off to the side.  Listening to you
tell it is like being in the middle of everything looking out instead of
standing off to one side looking in.  The other part is being able to do
some things you can't do for yourself."

   "Like what, besides the obvious?"

   "Number one would be rape.  It doesn't matter if you got hot the first
time you thought about it or learned to like it.  Either way you're up
against the same problem I had.  A real rape, where you're jumped by some
creep who doesn't give a shit what you want, is more scary than hot. 
Asking for it takes a lot of the fun out of being forced and could get
confusing for whoever is doing you.  Bob doesn't care if sub slut means
submissive or substitute.  Billy knows what it's like being with a sex
creep but is still getting used to the idea of being one.  He told me how
the first couple of times you guys told each other it wasn't really queer
as long as you were both thinking about me."

   "Uh, yeah.  I hope you're not mad about that."

   "A little bit flattered actually, more than if I was a jerk off fantasy.
I guy can think about a dozen different girls in the time it takes to get
himself off.  Having one boy think about doing me while the boy he sticks
it in is thinking about being me is weird and perverted.  At the same time
it's sort of an ego trip.  Creepy, huh?"

   "Maybe, a little.  If we were thinking about you, thinking about us
thinking about you can't be any worse."

   "So, anyway, I'm talking to Billy and he's happy that you and I hooked
up.  At the same time he's lonely, horny, and frustrated as hell.  He also
can't help being a little jealous, maybe even a little angry, that you have
something he wants so bad.  Letting him do you went a long way towards
working that out.  Too bad it didn't go far enough."

   "Not far enough?!"

   "Uh-huh.  I don't think he thought about it ahead of time.  He might not
be ready to admit it yet.  Not having to ask anymore was a huge step for
him.  He's a lot happier now than he was before."

   "Ok, he's happier.  What about me?!"

   "You too but I don't think you're ready to admit it either."

   "You are completely out of whatever you've been using for a mind!"

   "You think so?  Really?  Try this.  Imagine you're off at summer camp,
sharing a cabin with eight or nine other guys you never met before and will
never see again.  The very first night, the biggest, toughest boy in the
cabin rapes you.  It was dark and he tried to do it quiet but two or three
of the others were awake.  The next morning, you're too embarrassed to
report it.  Nobody is talking about it, at least not where you can hear,
but by lunch it's pretty obvious that at least the guys in your cabin know.
A couple are sort of smirking, one or two more are kind of ewww, the rest
are like six different shades of curious, waiting to see what you do about
it.

   "They have it organized so the different cabins compete against each
other, the usual trash talk and chest thumping.  About the middle of the
afternoon a couple boys from one of the other cabins start to give you a
hard time.  Before you can do more than blush, the big kid is there and
flattens them.  He sounds off loud and clear that *he* isn't sleeping in
the, 'queer cabin', and anybody who tries to start something with any of
you had better expect to get beat on by all of you.  So, the other guys
have got your back, even if they care more about their own rep than yours.

   "Later that night you wake up with him on you, in you.  There isn't much
point in fighting it.  Actually, it feels more like a continuation than a
new attack.  Except this time there's more of an audience.  A couple guys
from bunks further away got up to get a closer look.  You can't help
noticing that they're jacking while they watch.  By the end of the first
week one of them works up the nerve to grab sloppy seconds.  It's a good
thing camp only runs for two weeks."

   "The last night in camp the whole cabin wants a turn.  While the other
boys are mostly darker shapes in the shadows, there's enough moonlight
through the windows where you are that everybody can see what's going on.
You're on your knees, naked.  There's cum on your chest that dribbled off
your chin when you couldn't swallow fast enough.  The skin on your face and
the inside of your thighs feels tight where smears of it have started to
dry.  After the first two or three they don't even need lube.  Your ass is
as wet and sloppy as a horny sluts cunt.  You even sound like a slut,
panting and moaning as each boy fucks you after you've brought him close
enough with your hands and mouth that he can finish in a few quick
strokes."

   "Ok.  So you tell a wicked bedtime story.  What's the point you're
trying to make?"

   "In your imagination, when you're in that situation, is your dick hard?"

   "Uh..."

   "I mean, harder than it is right now?"

   "I?  uh...  I don't think it could get much harder than it is right
now."

   "Ok, so maybe you're not as totally straight as you'd like everyone to
think you are.  Have you thought about telling your mom to shove it and
moving in with Bob?"

   "No WAY!"

   "So you're not cock happy enough to be some pervs full time dick slave.
That's ok, neither is your mom.  She's not full Lez, or at least not enough
to want one girl long term.  I think she likes cocks, some more than
others. The problem is that the nicest cock she ever met still had a man
attached to it."

   "She got married."

   "Uh-huh.  I never met your dad.  I never saw how they were together.  I
don't even know your mom that well but it wouldn't surprise me to find out
she wanted a kid and your dad was just part of the package.  Don't get mad?
but?  you're more like her than either of you wants to think about.  You
like me and girls in general.  You like to play with me and make me feel
nice.  But you're not some kind of panting, drooling, cunt hound.  If I
really worked at it I could get you absolutely, insanely, horny but so
could Billy, or Bob, or even your mom.

   "Yeah, well, she has an unfair advantage.  All she has to do is tell me
not to think about it."

   "I suppose?  Can I ask you something?"

   "You can always ask.  I don't promise you'll get the answer you want, or
any answer at all."

   "Back when me and that perv were in the news I had a girl we go to
school with get kind of strange."

   "How strange?"

   "She came up to me a couple of times and sort of tried to start a
conversation but it never really went anywhere.  You know, like there was
something bothering her but she wasn't ready to talk about it."

   "So?"

   "So, I ran into her at the library this morning and walked with her as
far as her place.  Her dad, step-dad actually, met her at the door and was
acting really strange.  He was more like a jealous boyfriend than a worried
parent.  I tried to cover for her.  She stood there like she was scared to
death I might say something to set him off, while he kept one hand on the
back of her neck and the other on the door.  I was trying to calm him down
but the longer I talked the tighter the front of his pants got until I felt
like I was standing there naked.  This is just an impression but it
wouldn't surprise me if he had her ass bare before I got to the street."

   "Okay, let's say you're right.  What do you want to do about it?"

   "That's what I wanted to ask you.  I'd like to introduce Lissa to Billy.
It will be a lot easier to pry her loose for a while if her step-dad has
somebody to keep him occupied, like maybe a cute young girl with a little
surprise in her panties."

   "You've been talking to my mom *way* too much."

   "Not *that* much, though I couldn't help imagining you in your, 'party
girl', outfit when she told me about setting you up with Martin.  If you
wore your 'nice girl' skirt and blouse over it, along with a little
lipstick and mascara, I doubt that he'd have a problem with me playing
chaperon to Lissa while you asked him some really personal questions."

   "Yeah.  Uh-huh, and what happens when he slides a hand up my thigh and
discovers a thong that's more like a banana hammock?"

   "I wish I could be there to watch.  It's probably not a good idea to
surprise him.  Some old guys can get weird about it."

   "Wouldn't that be just fuckin' perfect?  To get pounded flat because the
pervo molesting me thinks I'm not girl enough?"

   "How about this??"

   Mary wasn't exactly peased when Bob stopped to pick up Debbie and her
son the next afternoon.  She did have to admit it was probably better than
having him walking around the neighborhood in drag.  She also realized that
it wouldn't have bothered her if Timmy left with either of them dressed
that way.  The combination though, gave her a feeling she was seeing only
the tip of the iceberg and that the rest was being intentionally concealed,
from her specifically, rather than the world in general.

   "I already told Bob where we're going.  Lissa told her step-dad this
morning that I was going to stop by with somebody I thought he should meet.
You look tasty enough to get him interested even if he isn't a perv.  It
shouldn't be hard to take her out for a couple hours if you're there to
keep him company."

   "Company, yeah, right, and then what?"

   "That's up to you.  Whatever you do, *don't* give him any reason to
think Lissa blew the whistle on whatever twisted games he's playing.  The
truth is we really don't know.  He might be just overprotective and
completely straight."

   It took about thirty seconds for Timmy to throw that idea out the
window. The guy was practically drooling the minute they walked in.  The
only thing he had a problem with was deciding whether to chase them out and
jump Lissa or let her go so he could hit on the fresh meat.  Debbie hustled
the other girl out the door before he could pile too many conditions on
where they went or who they were with.  They hardly made it to the street
before the pause inside grew long enough to be awkward.

   "Uh, I'm not sure how to say this Mr?"

   "...Ahrens, and you're Tina?"

   "Yeah, only I'm not?  or maybe I am but not like you're thinking."

   "I'm getting a little confused."

   "I'll try to explain, if you promise to try not to flip out.  A while
back Debbie had some horny old perv messing with her.  It wasn't some kind
of horrible, 'fate worse than death', thing but she wasn't happy about it
either.  Eventually she dropped enough hints to enough people that the cops
went after him.  He might still be a problem but he's not her problem
anymore.

   "A couple of guys asked her about it after school one day and she was so
tired of being treated like some kind of freak she decided to answer. 
While they were imagining what it would be like to be with her, at least
one of them was imagining what it would be like to *be* her.  I know this
for sure because, well, I was that boy."

   "No shit?!  So you're not really..."

   "?  a girl?  No.  The problem is that I really don't know what I am.  I
don't have any way to prove I'm not queer, but if you could look inside my
head and see how much time I spend thinking about getting Debbie's pants
off you'd know for sure.  After she told us what it was like to be with
some creep who was so horny that he really didn't care if the kid he was
fucking was actually a girl, it got my own imagination going.  By the time
it happened to me I'd played out the scene in my head too often to count."

   "You mean some pervert..."

   "Used me like a girl.  It was the most embarrassing, uncomfortable,
degrading thing that ever happened to me?  until I asked him to do it
again."

   "What?!"

   "Yeah.  That first time wasn't exactly fun even if he did make me cum.
It was still exciting in a way that's hard for me to describe.  Since then
a couple other guys have had me.  That's probably all I should say about
it? unless you're interested?"

   "Interested?  You think I might be that kind..."

   "?  of creepy, disgusting, sex pervert?  Not really.  But you know,
there's a lot of plain vanilla middle aged guys who are willing to try some
totally, "Oh My God", stuff if they can be sure it won't come back to haunt
them."

   "What sort of stuff?"

   "Well?  like kids.  You'd never start flirting with somebody your
daughters age, at least not out in public.  Not in private either if there
was any chance the whole world would find out.  It's just not something a
normal middle aged guy from the burbs does.

   "Only they do.  Every now and then you'll see an arrest in the paper. 
That's not even the tip of the iceberg.  Think about it.  The only people
who know I'm here, know just enough about what might happen that they are
*not* going to come back early.  The neighbors, if any of them happened to
be looking, saw two girls arrive and two girls leave.  Do you think it was
an accident that Lissa pinned her hair up and dug through her closet to
find something close to what I'm wearing?"

   "She set me up!?"

   "Not at all, Debbie is the one that asked her to help and Lissa might
*never* find out for sure exactly what she helped with.  The thing I do,
what I want to do so bad I really don't have any choice about it, is a
special sort of role play.  You're going to think I'm completely depraved
but really, at this point I don't think there is any way to avoid that.

   "I like to pretend that I'm with a normal, ordinary, middle aged guy who
is so turned on by the chance to stick it in a young girl that he isn't
going to let what she wants stop him from getting his rocks off.  I'm
talking about a guy so horny that when he finds out there isn't any girl,
he would rather make me take her place than do without."

   "I?  Uh?  I'm not sure exactly what you mean by taking her place."

   "You know.  You just want to make me say it.  Ok, look me in the eyes. I
want you to fuck me like a girl too young to take it in her muffin.  Use my
mouth?  My ass?  Bare naked, dressed the way I am, or wearing anything else
that gets you hot.  You can have me beg you not to, or beg you not to stop.
We can do it just this once, or you can make me come back again and again
until you get tired of me.  There's just a few things you need to keep in
mind."

   "Uh-huh.  Like what?"

   "For reasons you don't need to know about I really don't have a choice.
That doesn't matter when we're both blind horny and I need it the way some
doper needs his drugs.  Afterwards, it can get kind of squicky.  Also,
you're not the only one.  If you get too rough, I can't go to the cops, but
there will be other grownups out there really mad at you for wrecking their
share toy.  The last one might be a deal killer.  Using me isn't going to
be as much of a secret as either of us would like.  For some people squicky
sex stuff is like ghost stories or horror movies, exciting as long as it's
happening to somebody else.  Debbie calls them bedtime stories and won't
let me alone if she knows I have a new one."

   Timmy laced his fingers behind the mans neck and stood looking up at
him.

   "My skirt has a button and zipper at the back.  If you let it fall
around my ankles and unbutton my blouse I'll be the next best thing to
naked?  maybe better."

   Soon the guys hands were all over him.

   "Ah?  Careful.  For some reason my nipples have been getting really
sensitive, puffy even.  I still like having them played with but you have
to be extra gentle.  Are you gonna make me kiss you now?  It makes me go
all shivery inside.  Maybe because it's the last thing guys do before I
have to get on my knees and start pleasing them with my mouth."

   *****

   "So, did he?"

   As expected, Debbie was asking for all the gruesome details.  Bob had
brought my normal clothes when he dropped off her and Lissa.  With no hurry
to get home and change, we were hanging out at the park again.

   "Uh-huh.  I still can't get over how something so much fun with you can
be so gross when I have to do it with a man.  I'd almost rather suck him."

   "Almost?"

   "Oh, all right, it's easier to suck his cock than his tongue.  It's also
easier to suck than fuck.  Like, kissing is asking for more but sucking
isn't the main event."

   "So you got him to fuck you?  And?"

   "Yes, I jerked off with his cock in me.  I told you I would if you want
me to.  Pervert!"

   "Oh hon, don't be that way.  I've told you how hot I get thinking about
a straight man using you.  When your mom told me how you came while Martin
and Bob were taking turns I almost creamed my shorts!  The only thing that
gets me hotter than a couple of horny men turning your cute little ass into
a sloppy wet cunt is the thought of you coming while they do it?  or maybe
how hard you're going to fuck me while I tell you what I'd like you to try
next.



   part 12 (Mb bb bg Fdom)



   "Hey there!  Where is everybody?"

   "Out back, grab a soda and join us."

   Debbie discovered that "us" was Mary and her friend Ellie.

   "Timmy is out with Billy, lord knows where though I suppose we all have
a pretty good idea what they're up to."

   "That's ok.  You're the one I was planning to tear into.  What have you
been giving him and for how long?"

   "What are you talking about?"

   "Don't play dumb.  It hasn't been that long since my own tits were
nothing but a pair of puffy nipples?  smaller than his.  You're giving him
hormones.  If you don't want me blowing the whistle at family services
you'll come clean about what kind, what dose and how long you've been doing
it."

   "Oh, all right, birth control pills, the older type that are almost all
estrogen.  You can still get them through online drug companies.  It's the
same thing third world ladyboys use to grow a rack.  I've been slipping him
one every couple of days.  I'm not trying to make him into a tranny, just
keep him boyish a little longer.  It's not like he'd complain if he knew."

   "But he didn't.  You messed with his body chemistry without asking, or
even telling him about it first.  So?  You're done"

   "What do you mean done?"

   "You're still his mom, nothing can change that.  You still need to know
where he's at.  But you've proved that you're not fit to drive this bus. 
From now on I'm his dom.  He can share as little or as much as he wants to
with you.  It has to be his choice though.  If I catch you trying to drive,
or even trying to squeeze me out you'd better have one ass kickin' attorney
ready to explain it to the judge."

   "Don't threaten *me* young lady!"

   "You thought that was a threat?  That's not a threat.  Judges are quiet,
gentle, creatures that play by a civilized set of rules.  There are several
pervs facing years, maybe decades, in prison and a lifetime on the registry
when they get out if you can't control yourself.  I'd bet at least one of
them would be willing to take some pretty drastic action to keep you from
screwing around until the whole situation blows up in their face.  That's a
threat.  See the difference?"

   Ellie finally spoke up.  "Uh, Mary?  The last thing on earth I'd want to
do right now is get in the middle of this but the girl has a point.  If
refusing to admit you were out of line is more important to you than
keeping your ass out of trouble you're going to be a problem for anyone
involved."

   "What about yourself?"

   "I've got at least two degrees of separation and never gave him any
direct orders.  That doesn't make me a saint but if you're working this
hard at looking bad it doesn't take much for me to look a whole lot
better."

   "So you think I should just give up control over my son?"

   "Don't go all drama queen.  That isn't what she's asking and you know
it. Debbie hasn't got the skills or interest in putting the finishing
touches on a half grown boy.  She doesn't even want him to stop being a
fuck toy.  She just wants him to quit being *your* fuck toy."

   "I never said that.  If he had to choose between a normal boy / girl
thing with me or an evil bitch forcing him to perform degrading acts with
creepy perverts, he wouldn't be with me long.  What I am saying is that she
has made a couple of decisions now that showed more interest in her own
warped agenda than Timmy's long term welfare.  I'm not trying to keep you
out of the game Mary.  I'm not trying to keep you from making suggestions
about the rules.  I'm telling you that until you show the rest of us better
sense than you have been, somebody else will have the final word.  It might
turn out that I'm not any better at it.  If that happens I hope I'll have
sense enough to step aside without a fight."

   "Ok, I'll stop the hormones."

   "Yes, give them to me.  I'll have a talk with him about what they're
doing to his body.  While there is no way he'd want to become a girl,
something that makes him a closer substitute will probably be as good as
Viagra, for him and the creeps."

   *****

   "Hormones?!  The bitch was giving me hormones?"

   "Uh-huh, probably slipping them into your food.  That's why your nipples
were growing, getting puffy.  Other things too, maybe more important but
not so noticeable.  You're not building muscles as fast as other boys
entering puberty or growing as much body hair.  She wasn't loading you up
with enough to turn you into a girl, just enough to make you less of a
man."

   "No shit?"

   "I'm afraid so, and now you're going to hate me."

   "Why would something she did make me hate you?  Unless?  You can't be
thinking what I think you're thinking, can you?"

   "It's not something you would want to do for very long.  We would have
to be really careful not to get the dosage too high.  It could cause
serious long term health problems if we let it go too far.  Your age and
natural build already make you look feminine next to some fat hairy
pervert, especially when you're both naked.  You don't need drugs to, "be a
girl", right now.  If you choose to take them you can be a little more
girly for an extra year or two.  I think that would be really neat but it's
your body and your decision."

   "You want me to do it."

   "I want you to fuck me.  When you're not fucking me I want you to be
doing the creepiest, nastiest, most degrading and perverted things
imaginable with people who pretend to be perfectly normal when they're not
with you.  If that includes begging them not to hurt your poor tender
nipples while they rape you, that's ok too but I don't need it to be
happy."

   "Well gee, it's nice to know you can be happy without sex freaks hurting
me."

   "I think it's nice too?  I mean not needing it.  The *idea* of rough sex
excites me.  Like, Billy just ramming it into you whenever and wherever he
wants to get a load off."

   "He's not *that* bad!"

   "He could be?  If he thought you were ok with it.  I should have a talk
with him."

   "Oh my God!  Please?  Don't do that!"

   "Relax, or maybe you should be nervous.  I don't really care about how
often he does it.  The ram it in thing isn't as big a turn on as dealing
with the results would be a turn off.  I was thinking about something else,
something you told me about your first time with Bob.  How he said that he
wasn't interested in *nice* girls, he was going to make you be the kinky
little slut guys tell jokes about.  It shouldn't be all on Bob.  Billy
should be willing to do his part."

   "His part?"

   "It will be more fun if it's a surprise."

   It shouldn't have been a surprise.  I mean, by then I should have had a
better idea of the way things were going.  The thing is, even a horny
adolescent boy can't spend *all* his time fucking.  Sure Billy could rape
me whenever he wanted.  We still spent almost all of our time doing the
same stuff we always did.  So, I hardly noticed when our path through the
park took us towards a stranger sitting alone.  It didn't set off any
mental alarms when he smiled and said, "hi", or even when Billy grabbed a
seat and pulled me down between them.

   "This is my friend Timmy, the one I've been telling you about."

   "You're kidding!  He looks like you kidnapped him from a Sunday school
picnic!"

   "Yeah, that's part of what makes it so hot.  It's not the best part
though."

   "Uh, what are you guys talking about?"

   "Sit still, be quiet and listen.  You'll find out soon enough."

   "The best part?"

   "It's hard to describe.  He pitches straight.  His girlfriend Debbie is
cute and they fuck like bunnies.  He isn't even queer when he catches.  I
mean not *queer*, like making out with a boyfriend, not exactly.  He's more
like so into being submissive it really doesn't matter if it's a girl or a
guy making him do it.  Hell, sometimes it isn't too clear *who* is making
him do it."

   "So you weren't kidding about??"

   "Fucking him?  Yeah, well, I kind of had a problem with that, right at
first.  Debbie talked about it with her counselor, then explained it to
me."

   "This should be good."

   "He doesn't want it, not enough to go out looking for it.  He'll put
himself in spots where he knows it could happen but he doesn't actually ask
for it.  Until it happens, then he's like a doper who has had a little
taste of a drug he's totally addicted to."

   "He starts asking for it?"

   "Sometimes.  With me it's mostly get a load off and go back to whatever
else we were doing.  It's like a separate thing.  I could do it three times
a day or find a girl and never stick it in him again and we would still be
friends.

   "With old guys, he's like, a total slut.  He'll put on girls clothes,
wear lipstick, grease up his ass like a wet slippery cunt.  I've never been
there while he was begging some horny perv to, "make him be a girl", but he
told me about it.  Actually, he told Debbie most of it and she told me
about it.  I?  Uh?  I'd kind of like to see it, at least once."

   Timmy sat staring at the dirt between his sneakers where the grass had
worn away in front of the bench.  Billy was right.  It didn't take him long
to know exactly what was going on.  He didn't want to believe his best
friend was setting him up with the next perv who would have him.  He didn't
want to think about his girlfriend telling Billy that he *needed* this,
whether he wanted it or not.  More than anything he wished he could ignore
the hardon beginning to tighten the front of his shorts, or at least that
Billy and the new creep wouldn't notice.

   "Ok, I got a place.  A friend of mine loaned me the key to a vacant
store downtown.  I've never been there but it should have a stock room and
some place to clean up a little.  Good enough?"

   "Yeah.  He'd do it in the front window and walk home cum splattered but
there's no reason to *ask* somebody to call a cop."

   "Please Billy?  Don't make me do this..."

   "Ok."

   "Really?  I don't have to?"

   "Yep.  You don't have to do anything at all.  Things might get a little
awkward if you don't.  I don't know where Debbie is right now but I'm
pretty sure her panties are soaked from thinking about the story you'll
tell her later.  When I asked this guy to meet us I sort of promised him he
would get to fuck a kid.  I suppose he could do me instead but that's not
as hot as you getting it from a total stranger."

   Billy and the creep got up.  A long moment later, so did Timmy.  It was
like his friend said, about it not always being clear who was making him do
stuff.  The whole situation made him feel so dirty.  Having an erection
hard enough to drive nails wasn't helping any.

   There was a parking space in the alley behind the store and the key fit
the back door.  It was a small place, maybe an electronics or hobby shop
before the mall at the edge of town stole all the downtown traffic.  The
back room was as empty as the store front except for a beat up old desk
nobody thought was worth hauling away.

   "So?  Uh?  What now?"

   "You get your clothes off.  Then we take turns spitting on his fingers
while he gets your boy cunt sloppy wet and loose enough he can shove it in
without tearing you up.  In between you can spit shine his dick so that's
nice and wet too."

   He started to cry as his fingers fumbled with shirt buttons.  Billy was
his best friend.  Why was he suddenly being so mean?  Why was he pushing
him to do things with this creep?  By the time he was naked he was
crying... *just* like a girl.

   "Jesus Christ!  After everything you said I still can't believe it!"

   "Fuckin' warped, hey?"

   "Ya think?  He's not a girl, not with that hardon bouncing in the
breeze. It's pretty damn obvious he's getting off on what we're doing to
him.  Those aren't exactly crocodile tears but I'd bet they're more about
his best friend finding out how much he likes it than what he has to do
next.

   "Up on the desk and lay back with your ass at one end.  Slide sideways
until I can flop my meat across your face while Billy gets into your ass.
I'll get my turn later.  It wouldn't be much fun for him if I went first.
Pull your knees up and spread like a girl."

   The creep spit on his fingers and began working it into Timmy's ass. 
Billy did the same and they alternated until he was sloppy wet and opened
up enough for the boy to have him.  The old guy was getting enough of a
kick out of flopping his cock on the boys face that soon it was more than
half hard.

   "Ok honey, time to show me what you can do with that talented little
mouth of yours.  You probably can't get me off with your mouth alone.  I
haven't been that horny since I was your age.  You can get me close enough
that you'll still be able to walk when I'm done with your ass."

   It was bad enough when some creep would just stick it in his mouth and
start fucking his face.  Licking, kissing, rubbing his face against it,
until he could feel the perverts erection throbbing as it began to leak
pre-cum was worse.  On the other hand, the sort of fucking it would take to
bring him off starting from nothing was more than Timmy wanted to think
about.  The way he didn't want to think about the looks his friend was
giving him as he put on a show for the perv.  Billy did understand that it
was all a show?  didn't he?  He had to know Timmy didn't actually *want* to
get the guy that fucking hot?  right?  Just then, the two high-fived and
said;

   "Switch!"

   He couldn't believe Billy actually expected him to?  No way!  Not after
it was just up his ass!  Then a nasty piece of man meat invaded his boy
cunt and he couldn't help but gasp.  Billy would have been balls deep in
his face if he hadn't managed to wrap a fist around his buddies hardon at
the last possible moment.  Frantically jerking, he was able to make Billy
come as the other boy tried to pull his hand away.  The stuff flew
everywhere, face, hair, chest, some of it even landed in his mouth.  Billy
looked disappointed for couple of heartbeats, then turned around and hooked
one hand behind Timmy's head.

   "Eat my ass you little slut!  Come on!  Eat it!  Stick your tongue in
it! I still want to fuck your face and my dick needs a push start."

   He didn't even hear the old guy moan, hardly felt him pull out.  The hot
dollops of cum splashing his dick and balls caught him by surprise.  Not as
much of a surprise though as having the still hard cock shoved back in his
ass.  Watching him tongue fuck the other boys ass was twisted enough to
keep the perv going, long enough for the final surprise.

   He came.  Hands free.  In the middle of the most degrading, perverted,
experience so far he felt his cock start to unload, splashing his neck and
chest until the last weak dribbles blended with the mess the old guy had
left on his lower belly.  The other guys continued to go through the
motions until they got another load off.  He was pretty sore by the time
they finished but nothing past the moment he came could make him feel any
more thoroughly fucked.

   One corner of the room had a faucet and a drain with an curb around it
for filling and dumping janitor buckets.  By crouching and letting the
water run until the rust was out of the lines he managed to rinse off most
of the glop.  He didn't have any soap but that wasn't so important. 
Something told him he was never going to feel really clean again anyway.

   The ride back to the park was quiet.  He couldn't figure out how to
start the things he wanted to say to Billy.  None of it was stuff he wanted
to talk about in front of a stranger.  He wasn't surprised when Debbie was
waiting for them.  He was a little surprised about *not* thinking it was
strange, like he was beginning to expect one humiliating incident after
another.

   "It must have been good, he's got that, "rode hard and put away wet",
look.  I don't mean to chase you away but things will probably go easier if
we can sort it out one on one." The pervs agreed, leaving them alone
without even trying to make a little awkward small talk.

   "So?  Were they really mean to you?"

   "Oh God..."

   "That good.  Huh?"

   "What are you talking about?!  I don't know if my guts are churning
worse from all the cum or thinking about how much of it is Billy's.  I just
lost my best friend.  There's no way he'll ever want to hang out with me
again."

   "Don't be too sure about that."

   "Even if he does still want to be friends, I don't know if I can, after
the stuff he made me do."

   "Yeah, I had a bitch of a time talking him into some of it."

   "YOU..."

   "Uh-huh, now close your mouth before somebody walks up and sticks a dick
in it.  I won't claim that I know him better than you do.  Compared to all
the time you've been together I barely had time to walk up and say hi.  If
I know anything about either of you that the other guy doesn't, it's
because you didn't want to know.  You don't have that luxury anymore."

   "What do you mean?"

   "The crap that gets you hot is too risky for you to be out there for
total strangers.  You sure as hell can't put somebody who doesn't like you
in charge of who gets your ass.  Your mom settled that."

   "She says that she loves me."

   "She does, as much as her own messed up head will let her.  What you
need to understand is that she can love you a lot and still not like you
very much sometimes."

   "I suppose that makes sense.  It kind of describes that way I feel about
her a lot of the time.  But Billy?  How could he do that to me?  How could
he ever want to be around me after that?"

   "So he didn't tell?  I asked him to keep it a secret."

   "Keep what a secret?"

   "If I told you it wouldn't be a secret, silly.  You just have to be a
little more patient.  Your birthday is next week, less than five days away.
This year you're going to have sort of a pre-party on your final day as a
twelve year old.  It will be your last chance to do some things *before*
you become a teenager.  While it isn't exactly a surprise party we're still
working on the guest list.  I'll be there.  So will your mom and Bob. 
Billy isn't going to miss it unless he gets hit by a truck between now and
then.  The others?  You'll have to wait and see.  One other thing, after
you fuck me, really long and hard, I don't want you to cum again until
after the party.  Don't look at me that way, it's not *that* long."

   It was kind of awkward the next day when Billy stopped to ask if he
wanted to go biking out at the old quarry.  The place got kind of busy late
in the day and on the weekends with rednecks shooting at empty beer cans.
In the middle of the week, late morning, it was deserted.

   "So?  Are you gonna make me do stuff?  Debbie told me not to cum until
after the party."

   "I guess it would be kind of mean to get you stiff and leave you hanging
after I popped my own load."

   "Yeah.  Why are you getting so mean to me?  Aren't we still friends?"

   "Sure we're friends.  Uh, part of it is Lissa.  It's really cool to
finally have a girlfriend.  I understand now about you not having so much
time to hang out with me.  But I'm also starting to understand some other
things too."

   "Like what?"

   "You know that Debbie gets bored when you're working in the mornings? 
She's been hanging out with me and Lissa.  Just hanging out and talking,
but?  you know how Debbie is."

   "Some.  I'm getting the idea that I'm about to find out more than I
really want to."

   "After being with that old creep, she kind of has sex on the brain.  Her
counselor says it's normal, that adolescent girls are *supposed* to be
horny and evil minded.  Being with a creep just made her a little more open
about it."

   "A little?  yeah, right..."

   "Uh-huh.  Well, she still sees her counselor.  Not all the time, like
she did right at first, just when she runs into something and she isn't
really sure how she should feel about it.  Like..."

   "Like what's happening with me?"

   "And the way it spreads out from around you.  And her part in it.  And
what her part *should* be.  Like part of her feels totally evil for not
reporting the whole mess to family services.  It would, like, rip your
whole world apart.  You'd end up in foster care.  Your mom would be on the
list of people going to jail.  Most of the counselors dealing with this
stuff are women talking to girls who have been with creeps.  They don't
know what to say to a boy and sure as hell don't know what to say to a boy
who likes it.  At least that's what Debbie's counselor told her."

   "Her counselor told her I *like* it?"

   "Yeah?  Uh, I'm not supposed to tell you this, so don't tell anyone
else, ok?  Debbie's counselor has met you, not as a therapist or even a
friend but she knows more about you than she could have learned from
talking with Debbie.  When Debbie told her about finding out creeps use you
in place of a girl she was?  like?  sooo?"

   "You're kidding!"

   "Uh-uh, but Debbie thought she was.  Since then they talked about it?  a
*lot*.  Nobody really knows how many boys are like you.  I mean, it's not
something you'd want to advertise.  The guys doing you are even less
interested in letting the whole world know about it."

   "Most of them are.  Mom put a video clip up on one of those hidden web
sites.  She doesn't want to get *caught* but I think she actually wants
every horny pervert on earth to see me begging for it."

   "Oh wow!  It's got to be totally creepy knowing that's out there and not
knowing who has seen it."

   "She cropped it and clipped it until nobody could tell who I am or where
I was.  Most of the time I don't think about it.  Sometimes though, some
guy will look at me like, "don't I know you from somewhere", and I can't
help wondering if he saw the vid."

   "That's kind of Debbie's problem.  Not for her, the guy didn't make any
vids, didn't take any pictures.  She's pretty sensitive about creeps
noticing her.  Not like it bothers her but like she can tell if he's
interested.  She can also tell if a creep is interested in you.  She gets a
kick out of knowing the interest isn't one sided.  She gets this really
intense horny rush out of knowing some guy would like to just clamp a hand
over your mouth, pull your pants down, and take you.  The thought of you
getting hard while he does it is enough to soak her panties.  Knowing that
the more creepy and perverted he can make it for you, the harder you're
going to cum, leaves her feeling really guilty?  while she's frantically
jilling off."

   "I guess.  When we're together we find better things to do.  She doesn't
make any secret about what she thinks of perverts doing me."

   "Uh-huh, and she isn't shy about making suggestions, especially if it
involves ways the creeps can be meaner to you.  At first I couldn't believe
it when she started talking about what a twisted little slut you really
are. I couldn't jump in with both feet.  If I found out later she was
pulling my leg I'd absolutely, no shit, want to die.  I had to kind of
sneak up on it.  While I was doing that, I found out you're not the only
perv.  This is embarrassing as all hell.  You're still the best friend I've
got and probably always will be.  But if I'm doing it to get my rocks off,
I?  uh?  kind of *like* being mean to you."



   part 13 (Final) Mb bb bg Fdom Beast



   Timmy couldn't, or at least didn't want to, believe his ears.

   "You *like* being mean to me?"

   "You make it sound so bad?  Is it?  Really?  Think about it.

   "When I got dumped at my Uncle's place, I knew he was going to make me
do stuff.  I didn't want him to.  I begged him not to.  I tried to fight. I
knew he was going to fuck me anyway.  It wasn't going to kill me.  By the
time my folks picked me up, he was even making me cum sometimes.  It got so
that if I was bored and he was horny?  I guess you could say I wanted it,
at least a little.  You're different."

   "You mean the standing in for a girl thing?"

   "Yeah.  You really want it.  Not like you're queer, you don't want to
date guys.  You want to be used for sex, have creeps make you get their
rocks off.  You don't even want it to be fun, not like playing with Debbie.
If it's too easy it starts getting queer.  You want creeps to *make* you do
it and you also kind of want the guys making you do it to be creeps or at
least creepy when they're with you.  It's hotter if everybody else thinks
they're nice guys."

   "Not everybody, Debbie gets hot knowing some guy is doing me.  But yeah,
even she gets off on having other people think the guys I'm with are nice,
or at least normal."

   "Uh-huh, that and..."

   "And what?"

   "I probably shouldn't say anything."

   "Maybe, but you already said too much to shut up now.  Spill it."

   "Well, don't tell her I said anything.  When you're with her, like a
normal boyfriend, it's usually over too quick.  You're getting off when
she's just getting warmed up.  It's the same with me and Lissa.  It just
takes girls longer to get going.  She has a lot more fun if you got a load
off before you're with her.  You last a lot longer on the second round. 
The problem is, if you jerk off right before you see her, she feels like
that was the main event and being with her is like, extra innings."

   "What does she expect?"

   "Exactly what she's asking for.  If you're with some creep, especially
if she set it up and you don't really want to be there, you can be with her
after and she still feels like she's the main event.  That's part of why
she wants you to have a dick in you while you jerk off.  Then you're not
doing it to make yourself happy.  You're doing it to get ready for her."

   "How much does Lissa know about this?"

   "Enough to make you blush but nowhere close to all of it.  Wait til
after the meeting."

   "Meeting?  What meeting?"

   "Today, at your place.  Your mom didn't tell you?"

   "Just to be home by one o'clock.  Which is like, less than half an hour
from now.  We better get moving."

   There were several unfamiliar cars parked out front.  Debbie and Lissa
were watching a movie in the basement or at least had the TV going loud
enough to keep the folks upstairs from hearing what they were talking
about. Everyones mom was there except for Lissa, her dad showed up.  He saw
Ellie with them on the patio as they joined the girls downstairs.

   "Hi guys!  I guess today is when we find out what happens at the end of
summer vacation."

   "What's up?"

   "Your mom didn't say?  What a bitch!  Ok, her and Ellie are going to try
to talk the others into doing a home school thing."

   ***

   "I already thanked each of you for agreeing to listen, now I'd like to
start by thanking all of you for actually showing up.  Since we all have
school age children, you all have some familiarity with the public school
system.  I won't waste your time and mine trash talking it.  While there
are some truly exceptional people trying to work within the system, they
are too few and too scattered to accomplish much.  The biggest problem is
that people have lost sight of what it is and what it was designed to do.
Public schools were never intended to provide a high quality education to
the kids who could profit from it.  They were intended to provide minimal
social and technical literacy to kids who had no place else to learn."

   ***

   "She wants to pull you out of school before I can turn you into the
class whore.  She doesn't actually have a problem with you being some
creeps fuck puppet.  I think she's more worried you might meet a nice girl
instead of somebody like me."

   ***

   "It doesn't take much to provide a better education than public school.
It does take more than the average parent can afford to spend on a single
student.  Also, a public school provides a social environment difficult to
match at home.  This can be good or bad.  Home schooled students have a
reputation with the general public of being more than a little eccentric.
They are also far less likely to become drug addicts, prematurely pregnant,
or pick up a long list of STD's.

   "My son turns thirteen the day after tomorrow.  If I have to choose
between a public school or leaving him at home unsupervised, he won't be at
home.  If I can talk you into sharing the cost of a series of part time and
volunteer tutors, all our kids will get a better education than they would
on the public dime."

   ***

   "So?  She's going to try to get our folks to sign off on a sort of co-op
deal and turn us into a micro class.  Ellie will try to convince them the
four of us are enough to be considered a "peer group".  I suppose this is
as good a time as any to let you know.  She specializes in cases of ongoing
sexual abuse.  I've been seeing her since they pulled that creep off of
me."

   ***

   "Let me introduce my friend Ellie, a certified youth counselor."

   "Good afternoon.  Let me start by saying I'm not a strong fan of home
schooling.  Far too often it's been a way for fringe groups to isolate
their children from the main stream.  In other cases, it has been used to
keep children from escaping an abusive home life.  Four children, from four
separate homes, is realistically about the minimum I would consider as an
acceptable class size.  In the less rigid environment provided by a
combination of home and public space they can get at least as much social
interaction as kids that are part of a larger student body, but have little
time to talk to each other.

   "As parents you already know that teaching kids isn't that hard.  They
learn from everything they see, hear, and do.  The difficult part,
especially for home schooled kids is providing a broad range of experiences
and not leaving critical gaps.  The public school breaks it down by subject
and offers multiple class periods per day.  This may not be the best way
and certainly isn't optimum for home teaching.  I would suggest a separate
subject each day with a tutor willing to explore all facets of the field.
In many cases it may be more practical to bring the kids to the tutor than
the other way around.  Think of it as, 'bring four kids to work day'.  I'll
let Mary talk about some of the tutors or mentors she has already lined
up."

   "My friend Bob is an unemployed, I guess you could say, 'starving',
artist.  No, he doesn't have teaching credentials.  What he does have is an
artists eye and knowledge of a wide range of media for expressing it.  I
believe he's fully competent to help the kids develop at least an
appreciation for the work created by others if they lack the talent or
interest to create their own...

   ***

   "At least one day out of the week we'll be with Bob.  That is, Timmy
will be with Bob.  I'm sure he'll let the rest of us watch.  Lissa and I
can practice doing makeup.  We can all learn to sketch story boards while
we study still and video photography.  Since all of you guys at least
pretend to be straight, us girls might even end up providing some, uh,
inspiration."

   ***

   "Martin is a web page designer.  Again, he has no teaching credentials.
What he does have is a solid practical background in real world
applications for the Internet.  No matter what career the kids eventually
pursue, having a thorough grounding in advertising and promotional
activities will be priceless."

   ***

   "Martin will show us how to find our way around the dark web.  He'll
also teach us how to edit the still and video media of Timmy.  I'm sure
that will require doing some fresh bits to bridge some gaps.  After we
build up his fan base, custom shoots or even live shows aren't completely
out of the question."

   ***

   "Lars and Ingrid Nordstrom run a kennel and grooming business at the
edge of town.  They're semi-retired and their children are grown.  They'd
welcome the opportunity to introduce the kids to the day to day details of
running a business."

   ***

   "Timmy's boss at the kennel hasn't come right out and *told* him it's ok
to fuck the dogs, more accurately, to let them fuck him.  If his jeans
should happen to sag enough to show scratches on his waist, I doubt like
hell Lars or his wife would be shocked.  Timmy's mom might do something
really evil if we don't give her copies of the video.  Then again, she
might do something worse if we do."

   ***

   "It shouldn't be too difficult to find others.  Someone unable to make a
major commitment will still be willing to take a class on an intermittent
basis.  One of us may have to fill in if there's a sudden cancellation."

   ***

   "I'm not sure how much time I want to spend watching my dad with a boy.
I already know more than I want to about where his dick has been.  If it's
a matter of Debbie and me teasing him enough that by the time he's done
with Timmy he can't get it up again?  count me in."

   ***

   "That's about it for the rough outline.  Even if we have to hire a
credentialed teacher and make arrangements with the local college for
courses that require lab time the total bill should be less than a quarter
of what private schools want, for a much better education than a public
school can provide.  You don't have to make a snap decision.  Think it over
for a week and make a note of any questions you have."

   The other kids left with their parents as the meeting broke up.  It was
another half hour before Mary decided to drag Timmy out of the basement. 
When she came down he was sitting in front of the TV, not quite catatonic.

   "How could you do that to me?  Pull me out of school and turn me into
some kind of perverted sex slave?"

   "What do you mean, 'turn you into'?  Just because the possible tutors I
named are mostly men that have had you doesn't mean *I'm* going to make you
do anything with them.  Of course, I'm not exactly going to whine and moan
if you let that twisted little bitch show your closest friends what a
pervert you really are."

   "Debbie wouldn't..."

   "Wouldn't what?  I won't go into the details, she'll tell you whatever
she thinks you need to know.  We spent some time, uh, negotiating
boundaries.  You need me too much as a parent to also have me as your?  I
don't know?  Your mistress?  Perhaps pimp is closer, though I'd never put
you out there for money.

   "If you went to the gym alone there's all sorts of things you could do.
You could even use free weights safely as long as you were just working
muscles and not trying to push your limits.  But if you were doing more
weight or more reps than before, you'd need a spotter, just to make sure
you don't get hurt.  At least to make sure you don't get injured.  Just
enough of the right kind of hurt isn't always a bad thing."

   "You're saying Debbie is sort of like my spotter for..."

   "?  for all those things a normal boy would rather die than discuss with
his mom.  I think she even wants to be a little bit like a *really*
personal coach, pushing you into things you might not have the nerve to try
on your own."

   "Yeah.  She's like that sometimes."

   "That's ok.  I do want you to keep a couple of things in mind.  You're
not a normal boy, any more than I'm an average mom.  If I tripped over you
and Debbie making love, it would be awkward but not particularly exciting.
I find it degrading and humiliating to be present while you beg some
pervert to use you in place of a girl, more by how aroused I become
witnessing the abuse than anything you're doing.

   "Which brings us to your pre-birthday or post childhood party.  I'll be
hosting it here, so not being present really isn't an option for me. 
Debbie, with some help from her friends and yours, is planning the
activities.  It's a fairly safe bet that most of them will have some
connection to your favorite form of sexual role play.  Should you decide to
play along, I will either have to flee the scene or play out a role of my
own."

   "I can probably guess, and I'm sure it's more than I want to know, but I
suppose you better spell it out for me."

   "While voyeurism doesn't quite rise to the level of an actual sex act,
it most certainly is a sexual activity.  Becoming aroused while my son is
being sexually abused is just a short step from being the actual
perpetrator.  If I have provided the location where it takes place,
selected one or more of the participants, informed them that I'll make no
attempt to interfere or protect you, well, I'm part of it.  Only in my
case, layered on top of any other perversities is the fact that I'm your
mother.  If I'm part of the audience the whole humiliating spectacle is
incestuous as well."

   "So, what do you expect me to do about it?"

   "That's up to you and Debbie.  You seem comfortable with letting her
take a dominant role in your relationship."

   "Sort of.  It's more exciting if I don't have a choice.  But the kind of
perv that really doesn't care what I want is more scary than fun.  Debbie
can tell me to be with some guy, let him do stuff, even ask him to do
stuff, and it's not really queer because I'm doing it for her.  It's still
creepy to have some old guy fucking me, but it's fun creepy.  Like, he can
be the kind of guy I might want to hang around with when he isn't raping
me."

   "Like Billy?"

   "That's like the same thing only different.  We've been best friends for
years.  When he asked me, I let him.  But he was embarrassed about asking
and I was embarrassed about letting him do it.  Debbie decided it would be
more fun for everybody if he stopped asking and just did it whenever he got
horny."

   "Is it?  More fun for everybody?"

   "I guess.  It's kind of mean, Debbie making me let him do it.  Billy is
starting to like playing the big, bad, pervert.  It's almost like it isn't
all playing, like a little bit of him really is that kind of creep.  The
weirdest part is that I kind of want it that way.  Like if he's going to
fuck me I sort of want him to be a creep about it, and if I'm getting
fucked by him I want it to be sort of creepy.  Sick, huh?"

   "Don't ask me.  I quit worrying about that back where your girlfriend
told your best buddy he should spend more time raping you?  and he
listened."

   The day of the party finally arrived.  Debbie and Lissa showed up while
he was still showering off the kennel stink.  He wasn't sure if the latest
case of blue balls was from being hard more or less constantly for the last
two days, or the girls teaming up to towel him off when he stepped out of
the shower.  They spent more than an hour on his makeup, having him wash
his face twice so they could start over, trying to get the right look.

   Finally, his mom showed up and made him wash his face again.  They
settled on lipstick, mascara, and a little eye shadow.  Anything more would
look too gross after it got messed up.  She also brought a little red dress
of some thin stretch knit and a bottle of liquid adhesive that would keep
his stockings from falling off until he soaked it loose with alcohol. 
Sleeveless, it had an open neck but wasn't very low cut.  While it's not
like he had any cleavage to show off, his nips were puffy enough to be
noticeable.  The fabric of the dress was so clingy even a garter belt would
have stood out like a road map.

   He was answering the doorbell as the first of the guests arrived and
froze for a second when the mirror on the hall closet door caught his
reflection.  The dress hardly covered the tops of his stockings and it was
obvious that he was all there was under it.  There was no longer any
possible doubt about who was going to be providing the entertainment.

   This was confirmed by the first guest as Ellie dipped slightly to grab
his ass and murmur in his ear, "happy birthday you hot little cunt".  Soon
it was Lissa's step-dad snickering at the way his stiffy was stretching the
fabric while pre-cum formed a growing wet spot.  Timmy wanted to hide
somewhere but Debbie kept him chatting with the guests between greeting new
arrivals.  Billy, Martin, Bob and Mr.  Ahrens were all expected.  His mom
and the girls, or at least Debbie, would have been there anyway and Ellie
certainly was no surprise.  One guest he hadn't been required to greet
seemed to be in no big hurry to introduce herself.  Not to him that is, and
he wasn't exactly dressed to make a good first impression on the sort of
girl he might *want* to meet.  She was wandering around chatting with the
others.

   The slender redhead was closer to his mom's age and while he was sure
he'd remember if he had ever met her she looked vaguely familiar.  She and
his mom disappeared just as one last guest arrived.  Billy and Lissa picked
that moment to join them and Debbie smiled like she was telling the worlds
funniest joke.

   "I asked Billy not to use any names when they took you to that store. 
So while you're not the last one to find out that you already met Billy's
uncle, you're probably the last to know who he is.  Everybody is here now
and we can start the party.

   "Lissa was surprised that I didn't have a problem with pervs forcing you
to be a girl.  She couldn't imagine wanting to be with Billy after
something like that.  When we first talked about it, she wasn't exactly
thrilled with the idea of him fucking you."

   "I'm still not thrilled, but we spent a lot of time talking about it. 
He told me about what his uncle did to him and I can deal with that.  The
same way he can deal with me and my step-dad.  I've never had a boyfriend
before so I'm only beginning to learn what it's all about.  If I caught him
fooling around with another girl, I'd be really upset.  Maybe not breakup
level but really close.  Letting a guy do him would be at least as bad.

   "From what Debbie and Billy have told me, this girl thing you do is
different.  It's more like a role play deal but the role doesn't stay
exactly the same when you're with different people.  With Billy it almost
isn't even real sex.  He gets a load off.  What you have to do to make that
happen isn't his problem.  You're not trying to make him *happy*.  Your
mouth and ass are just different ways to jerk him off.  If Debbie wants you
to get your own load off while you do it, that's not his problem either."

   Debbie picked it up.  "After they finished with you, I asked them not to
do anything until I could set it up for them to have you again.  Billy is
as horny as you, maybe worse.  By now he'd probably squirt if Lissa spent
ten minutes whispering sweet nasties in his ear.  We'd really like to watch
you get down on your knees while he fucks your face."

   "You can't be serious?!  Right now?  In front of everybody?  There's no
way I can do that!"

   She pulled him aside, continuing in a low voice.  "I spent a lot of time
putting this together, including some really embarrassing conversations
with people I didn't even know.  If you can't, I mean really, honestly,
*can't* do what I tell you?  well?  then you can't.  I think right now
we're both pretty sure what's going to happen."

   Debbie reached down and lightly ran a fingertip the length of the hardon
stretching the front of his dress.

   "We'll stay in the front hall, only a few of the guests will be able to
see what you're doing.  Billy isn't going to last very long, especially if
you go totally bad girl and really try to get him off.  We didn't get you
all dressed up for nothing."

   That's where reality started to warp.  Timmy glanced back at what he
could see of the living room from where they were.  People weren't openly
trying not to watch but it didn't seem like his little group was getting
any special attention.  It was just a normal party, people standing around
sipping drinks and nibbling snack food.  You could drop any one of them
into the middle of a church social and nobody would notice.  Any of them
except the skinny young boy dressed like a whore.

   He dropped to his knees like a puppet with its strings cut, would have
hurt himself if Billy's uncle hadn't caught him enough to cushion the
landing.  His arms dangled uselessly as Billy pulled out his dick and
grabbed Timmy's hair to tip his head back.

   "Keep your hands off my cock!  I'm gonna cum too quick as it is.  I want
to shoot while I'm fucking your face."

   He'd be more embarrassed later, thinking that what happened next should
have been worse.  He was blushing, about half as bad as the first time.  He
was gagging and choking?  some.  Mostly though he was sucking his lips down
tight around his best friends cock, feeling it slide smoothly over his
tongue and enter his throat, only to be pulled back before his empty
stomach could give more than half a lurch.

   He probably shouldn't have looked up when he did.  Seeing Billy smile
like a creepy perv was bad enough.  Debbie and Lissa crowding in on both
sides, intentionally bumping Billy with their tits and hips, teasing him
to, "rape that slut", and, "break her in good", was worse.  Billy went deep
when he came, cutting off his air as spurt after spurt went right down his
throat.  Timmy wasn't fully conscious when Debbie pulled him to his feet
and wrapped her arms around him to plant a kiss that cleared out what
little cum he hadn't managed to swallow.

   "That's what they call getting off to a good start.  I'm holding a tub
of lube behind you right now.  If you pull up the back of your dress I'll
try to get enough of it in your pretty little ass that Billy's uncle won't
hurt you.  Or at least enough to keep you from getting injured.  I kind of
like the idea of horny perverts hurting you with their cocks, as long as
they don't get carried away.  The way your dick twitched when I said that,
I'm not the only one who wants it a little rough."

   She rested her chin on his shoulder while her fingers were busy getting
his ass nice and wet.

   "This feels kind of Lez, getting you ready to be used like a girl.  I
don't know if I should ask you to turn around so you can see at least some
of the guests.  It's probably better like this.  They might get embarrassed
if you noticed them checking out the action.  Right now the biggest kick is
Martin watching Ellie tease your mom.  She's got Mary squirming like she's
searching for a bathroom but you don't blush that way when you need to pee.
Let's see if she soaks her panties when her little girl gets drilled by a
hot, hard, man cock."

   Debbie backed away enough to set the lube on a small table in the entry
hall.  Stepping up to him again she lifted his hands to her shoulders, then
asked him to bend forwards a little.  The perv rested one hand on his hip
while using the other to run his knob up and down Timmy's greasy ass crack.
He couldn't stay completely quiet as the head began to open up his hole,
through it's hard to describe the sound he was making, something between a
squeal and a groan.  Debbie took his face between her hands, looking into
his eyes.

   "That's it.  Don't fight him.  You must have been something special the
last time for him to be so hot to use you again.  He didn't get that horny
just from watching you be nice to Billy.  Or maybe he did, I've got to
admit, watching him fuck your face was the hottest thing I've ever seen. 
Can you do the thing your mom told me about?  She said the first time she
walked in on you and Bob, you were rising up on your toes and pushing back
to meet his thrusts.  Do you remember what you were saying?"

   "Oh God!  I can't!"

   "But you do remember, right?  Even if you don't actually mean it right
now, or don't mean it with this guy, you want me to hear you say it, don't
you?"

   "Ohhh?  Please?  Uh?  Do it!  Shove your cock in me!  Make me be a girl!
Make me ask for it?  beg for it.  I'll be a girl any time you want me."

   "That is sooo hot!"

   Debbie reached under him to lightly grip his hardon through the dress.

   "Oh dear!  Your pretty new party dress is so messed up.  That can't all
be pre-cum.  You actually did it, popped a load while some creep was raping
you!  Now you're either still hard or hard again.  It doesn't matter which.
It will be a while before you get so turned on you need a catch rag.  Say
there sir, would you be kind enough to get this girls zipper?"

   That was enough to push the perv over the edge.  Timmy straightened up
and let Debbie pull the dress down until it puddled around his ankles,
while something he didn't want to think about trickled down the inside of
his thigh.  She picked it up as he stepped out of it, then escorted him to
where Bob and Mr.  Ahrens were trading lies.

   "I'm sure a couple of horny, perverted, creeps can think of some way to
keep a slut amused.  Until they show up, why don't you bend this kid over
and do her from both ends while I rinse out a few things."

   She must have just thrown it in a tub to soak because she was back
before they finished.  He saw her stepping out the patio door with the
redhead just as he got too busy to worry about anything else.  He was
heading that way himself when Ellie intercepted him and passed him a tall
glass of iced tea.

   "You look like you could use a chaser.  You also don't want to go out
there just yet.  Debbie and her new friend are getting your mom ready for
the last part of the show.  You should really thank her for setting this
up."

   "Debbie?"

   "Your mom.  The party was mostly her idea.  Hers and *her* mom, but your
grandmother isn't around any more.  She threw a party for her little girl
on your moms first birthday after becoming a woman.  The guest list
included everyone she could find who might want to fuck her daughter. 
You're younger than she was, a little anyway, but you're at least as much
of a dick hound.  Your mom also limited the list to men who already had you
at least once, them and women who wouldn't get upset at the idea of a boy
being used."

   "If there's a woman who would pitch a fit about it I haven't met her
yet."

   "Oh, there's a lot of them, maybe even most women.  Some creep getting
his rocks off abusing a child offends them all the way down on a biological
level.  That would be fine if it weren't for the inconvenient fact that
kids eventually grow up, most of them anyway, some faster than others. 
There are adult virgins, not many of them but a few."

   "When do most kids start?"

   "It's hard to say.  It's not like you have to call somebody and report
losing your cherry.  I treated a twelve year old who was caught with a
retired friend of her grandfather.  A fifteen year old neighbor boy broke
her in when she was nine.  That's about the youngest I'm sure was
voluntary. Remember, I'm a counselor, usually I only get to see those who
have a problem with what is going on.  Sometimes, situations that are
really unusual don't actually rise to the level of a problem.  Look at
you."

   "Me?"

   "Yeah you.  Nobody who walked in off the street right now would believe
it but you're basically straight."

   "It's nice to have a professional opinion, but if I'm straight, what
exactly is kinky?"

   "That's a different issue.  I didn't say you weren't a pervert, only
that you're not queer.  Most people have a submissive streak and it's
mostly a good thing.  The kind of guy that has to be in charge of
everything, all the time, can be a real pain after a while.  Your
submissive streak doesn't seem to be any wider than the average boy your
age but it maybe runs a little deeper.  Or maybe your timing was a little
bit off.  Most people experiment with submissive role play after they have
some experience with the more vanilla sorts of sexual expression."

   "Instead, I listened to Debbie telling us what she did."

   "That sort of set the stage.  Everyone has this idea that the number one
young girl fantasy is some hunk saying, 'I love you'.  Maybe they're right
but, 'shut up and take it', has to be running a pretty close second.  Which
is not a bad thing since that's the hot fantasy for boys her age."

   "Uh-huh, but they're thinking about saying it, not hearing it."

   "I won't tell you you're wrong.  That doesn't mean you're completely
right either.  When we start talking about what goes on inside a guys head
there isn't very much that is 100% black or white.  You're not the first
boy who wondered what it would be like for the girl.  You're sure as hell
not the first one that found out.  You tell me, would it have been better
or worse for you if you never thought about it before Bob picked you up?"

   "I?  really don't know.  When I told him I wanted it, to be forced, I
was so embarrassed I thought I was going to die.  I was pretty sure he was
going to do it anyway, then kill me afterwards.  At the time I thought I
was giving him a way to blackmail me, so he could let me go when he was
done without being scared I would go to the cops."

   "It seems to have worked."

   "Uh-huh.  Only it kept going, like pulling a loose thread until
everything unravels and then you're suddenly standing there naked?  in
church?  with a stiffy.  It wasn't fun, even when he made me come.  The
whole thing was so?  *intense*, that I couldn't stop thinking about it,
later, after I was home.  I suppose he could have blackmailed me into
coming back.  Instead, he made me promise not to jerk off until I was sure
I didn't want to be with him again."

   "And you did?  Want to see him?"

   "That part of it is so messed up.  I didn't have to.  I didn't even want
to.  But after six days I was ready to do anything for anybody if it
included me getting a load off."

   "Couldn't you masturbate?  A promise made under duress isn't really
binding."

   "I know, but?  The first day, not doing it wasn't too hard but not
thinking about it was impossible.  After that I got stubborn.  By the third
day I knew he was going to fuck me.  It was like every day I held off was
one more day he didn't get what he wanted.  I don't know how I kept mom
from guessing something was wrong when I told her about the kennel job. 
What kind of kid begs his mom for permission to be with a rapist?  She must
have thought the job was like, insanely important to me."

   "That was the morning she walked in on you?"

   "Yeah.  That was only the second time I was with Bob but the first time
he made me do it again and again until I stopped counting.  I don't mean
like I couldn't count that high, just that there was no point.  There
wasn't some set number of times he was going to do it.  When he told me to
take my clothes off, it felt more like, 'first time, part two', than the
start of something new."

   "Actually, it's surprisingly common for victims of ongoing abuse.  If
the initial attack is either unusually severe or severely unusual, later
assaults have so much less impact they register as 'that too'.  When the
physical component of the abuse is primarily of a sexual nature, the victim
is already socially isolated and the acts incorporate strong or multiple
taboos, the victim can become unusually vulnerable.

   "Girls, almost from day one, are more body conscious.  Any attention
they receive has at least some sexual overtones.  They are expected to seek
out the attention, to spend a lot of time and effort making themselves high
value targets for some mans affection or at least the physical expression
of it.

   "Boys are the exact opposite.  They're expected to put themselves out
there, be the aggressors, take the hit and shrug it off as if nothing
happened.  For a boy to admit he plays the submissive role with his girl,
that he's 'pussy whipped', would get the other boys laughing and teasing
him.  If he reveals that he's a queer slut, that men use him to get their
rocks off and he cums while they do it, he'd be met with total silence."

   "They'd think I was a freak."

   "Partly.  Most of it would be fear.  They all know deep down that any
guy who is big enough, and really wants to, can make them do it.  That's
scary enough.  The idea that they might get off on being put in that
position is terrifying.  They mentally back away from the whole thing,
change the subject to cars or sports.  Some ignorant little snot might see
the way you are and call you a pussy.  If he could see you right now,
naked, cum splattered, a little queasy with fear and anticipation about
what's next, he'd shut up and run away blushing."

   "What *is* next anyway?"

   "Pushing your limits of course.  Sexual submission is no big thrill if
you're forced to do what you would have done anyway.  That's what hooked
you from the beginning, being forced outside your preference.  Getting
caught by your mom took it to the next level.

   "Tell me something.  Imagine Bob never happened.  Imagine that instead
of catching you with him she walked in while you were jacking off.  She
handled it calmly, gave you the usual talk, then finished by telling you
she was concerned about how and how often.  Until she was sure you weren't
doing anything harmful you would only be allowed to masturbate in her
presence.  You could cheat of course.  She could also try to prevent that.
Impossible, but that might not keep her from trying.  Given a choice of
abstinence or pleasuring yourself in front of your mother, how long would
it take your horniness to overcome your embarrassment?"

   "Uh?  I don't know.  I can't imagine leaving it alone longer than I did
trying to avoid going back to Bob.  After today, it wouldn't be a problem.
If I'd never done anything else it would be almost impossible."

   "Almost.  If she used just enough of the right kind of pressure, it
wouldn't take long for you to force yourself to comply.  It would begin to
escalate immediately.  Even a horny young boy will only get so far on
physical stimulation alone.  You're at an age where you'll do everything in
your power to prove she can't tell you what to think.  That wouldn't stop
her from asking about your fantasies, or describing the sorts of things
others find exciting.  It's a natural step from there to erotic role play.
Your only hope to avoid an incestuous relationship with your mom would be
to seek out other partners.  She might or might not try to influence your
choices.  You might or might not be aware of whatever influence she tries
to exert.  It's possible you could eventually end up at a party where
you're expected to sexually pleasure anyone who is interested."

   "A party like this one?"

   "If this is where you belong, whatever path you take would sooner or
later bring you to something like this.  It isn't fate, anymore than your
interests and aptitudes influencing your other choices in life.  Your role
in what's happening this afternoon is perverse.  If a complaint regarding
my presence were filed I might get my credentials pulled for something
like, 'depraved indifference'.  In view of the fact that your participation
is voluntary, at least to the extent of wanting to have no choice, I find
it hard to get upset about what is being done to you.  I could dress it up
as professional curiosity, a chance to observe something far more common
than most people are prepared to consider.  Honestly though, I find it both
amusing and erotic to watch the way you respond, going from reluctant to
accepting and eventually enthusiastic as each pervert discovers again what
a horny little cunt you are."

   Debbie picked that moment to join them and announce than his special
present was ready out on the patio.  As they moved in that direction she
continued.

   "Actually, this part of it is for your mom as much as you.  It isn't any
secret that she finds it insanely exciting when perverts are raping you,
while being deeply ashamed of the way she feels.  You should get a kick out
of what we worked out for her."

   The original patio was a rectangular concrete slab with the long side
fronting sliding glass doors to the dining room and the shorter end against
the side of the garage where a people door gave access.  This had been
extended with pavers and plantings to double the size and provide as much
privacy as possible while still living in town.  The roof was supported by
the two buildings and a metal pole on the outside corner.  Today, the pole
was supporting more than the roof.

   Asked to describe his mom to a stranger, the word "hot" would have been
pretty far down the list.  Mary was closer to forty than thirty and despite
her best efforts had put on a few pounds.  Not the sort of body to be
flattered by the thong bikini she was presently wearing.  He was slightly
relieved to discover he was more turned on by the ball gag filling her
mouth than the scraps of fabric that barely covered her nipples and slit.
Backed up against the pole, her hands were pulled behind it and duct taped,
as were her ankles and forehead.  The straight pole against her ass forced
her to arch herself outwards as if thrusting her sex towards the small
crowd.  A pair of controls were tucked under the strings, attached to wires
that disappeared between her thighs.

   "Each of those wires ends at a vibrating egg that has found a temporary
home.  They're set low enough she isn't going to cum very soon if she can
manage it at all.  It would be more degrading to make her jill off but
nobody wants to waste attention on her.  Today is about you.  We can't
actually make her watch but shes facing the right direction and can't turn
away."

   In the corner where the garage joined the house was the familiar looking
redhead and a Doberman he recognized from the kennel.

   "Hi, I'm Anna Nordstrom.  I designed and installed the security system
where you work.  Part of that was remote access so I could monitor
performance and install upgrades.  So, while this is the first time you've
met me I already know you *very* well.  From your expression, you're also
familiar with Duke here, one of the younger and more aggressive studs my
dad owns.  I'm sure everybody here would love to watch the two of you
making each other happy."

   He hadn't thought that he'd forgotten how to blush, not in so many
words. It still felt like he was proving himself wrong as his cheeks
heated.

   "So far the party has been quite entertaining for us girls.  Every one
of us has at least fantasized about a guy taking us like some kind of lust
crazed animal.  The idea sells bales of romance novels and makes its way
into movie plots.  Watching another woman used that way is too much for
most of us.  It's close enough to rape we feel squicky about being excited
by it.  This is going to sound a little cruel.  Part of growing up girl is
learning not to care too much about what happens to boys.  Watching men
have you is still twisted, but more exciting than sick.

   "You can see we moved the cushions off the lounger.  What you need to do
now is lie face down, spread your legs, and reach back with both hands to
pull your cute little buns apart."

   "I..."

   He let it trail off.  Nobody would laugh out loud if he said that he
couldn't.  Nobody would believe it either, not even himself.  Debbie was
next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

   "Bob was joking when he talked about making you show how much you really
loved dogs.  Don't do this for him.  For Gods sake don't do it for Duke. 
Once he's had you, a happy massage will never be enough for him again. 
You'll still be able to get him off that way, he just won't be happy with
anything less than fucking you.  Don't even look at your mom.  She's crying
and grinding her thighs together, humiliated by how much this is turning
her on and insanely frustrated that she can't quite push herself into an
orgasm.  Don't even do it for me.  This is past anything I would ask you to
do.  If you do it, there's a favor you could do for me, but I'm not asking
you to put on a show for us."

   She placed something small and hard in his palm then closed his fingers
over it and stepped away.  He found himself staring at a marble sized ball
with crossed slots cut in it and a rubber band looped through a ring on the
back.  It was a sleigh bell, sometimes called a harness bell, and he knew
exactly what she wanted him to do with it.  Dropping to his knees on the
cushions, he looped the band several times around his dick right behind the
head before going prone and spreading, for Duke, and everybody else.  Anna
gave Duke some slack in his leash.

   "You're in for a special treat.  Right now, Duke is the only one here
that would tongue fuck you and he's got the best tongue in the place for
doing just that."

   Oh?  My?  God?  It felt like the wet raspy tongue was everywhere at
once. His ass crack, balls, the inside of his thighs, it even dipped deep
into an ass hole that was too tired to clamp down enough to keep it out. 
Soon he was lifting his ass until it was only his shoulders and knees on
the cushions.  Suddenly paws, and claws, dug into his waist as seven hard
inches of dog cock rammed into his waiting ass.  If he'd had time to tense
up he would have screamed.  As it was he grunted and moaned while Duke kept
thrusting until his rapidly expanding knot was buried in Timmy's ass.

   It felt like he was trying to crap a bowling ball as Duke twisted around
swinging one leg over his back until they were standing ass to ass.  He
could feel his ass filling with hot cum as Duke gave him a sperm enema. 
Oddly enough, it was the tinkle of the bell that made him aware of Anna
kneeling beside him.

   "There's no reason Duke should have all the fun, or be the only one to
get a happy massage."

   He couldn't tell if it was intentional.  Her blouse was no longer tucked
into her slacks.  Timmy was the only one there in a position to look up and
see the fine lines on her hips, just above the waistline of her slacks. 
They were healed scratches, scars really, from being savagely fucked by one
dog after another.  Turning his head a little further, he saw her smiling
down at him while lightly stroking his cock, even now trying to keep him
from cumming too soon.  She was like a drug dealer, proud of her product,
giving him the first taste of what could become a lifetime addiction.

   Most of the guests had departed by the time Anna finally let him cum,
only moments before Dukes knot had shrunk enough they could part company
with a wet pop that was too obscene for words.  It was down to him and
Debbie as he unwrapped the duct tape holding his mom to the pole.  He was
just getting the last of it off her wrists as Debbie suddenly grabbed the
controllers for both eggs and spun them up to max.  The resulting orgasm
would have sprained her entire body if she'd still been tied.  As it was,
only the ball gag kept the whole neighborhood from hearing about it. 
Debbie left while they were still arguing over who would get first crack at
a shower.
   The End