Ganymede

Life is a Ball

(Fourth part)

Callawashie Creek Trailer Park, Orlando. June 28th, 2000

"Even my fucking nephew's got a bigger cock and he's only just turned eight."

"He sure is cute though! He's one of the first uncut white kids I've seen."

"Yeah, me too. At least up close."

"I saw one at the gym last week. The kid even got me hard, too."

"Just looking at that pretty little dick could make me cum, I reckon."

"Get that camera closer, Pete. I want some shots before and after."

"Do you think he's still got his cherry?"

"I'd bet on it. Turn him over."

"Sure looks like it to me."

Two sets of hands lifted Justin's hips up and into the full glare of the lights, spreading his buttocks so that the camera could get closer for a better view, so I could see what they had seen. Justin's anus seemed to fill the television in all of its virginal splendor. There was no pucker, the enema and Martin's fingering had seen to that. The last half hour with Martin had removed whatever tension Justin's frequent self pleasuring had not taken. However, there was still a residual wrinkle where the pale flesh closed into the small dark hole. The anal verge was purple-brown, still untouched except by Justin's hand and his favorite toys. The tiny anus closed, then opened, winking. The men laughed.

"Little fucker wants it so bad he can't stand it."

"Look at that ass-hole twitching! You got that cherry picker ready yet, Martin?"

"Someone pass me the lube."

"I got some KY here."

"Nah. I want it to last, man. It's not every day I get a kid who wants to lose his ass-cherry with me. There's some Anal-Eze on the dresser."

Then drinking from a can of beer, Martin gave direction for what would follow. Justin looked at the camera nervously as the lights were repositioned. He was very attentive, his one moment of fame. His excitement showed in his eyes. Boldly, Martin held the can to Justin's lips, giving the boy his very first taste of the bitterness. Justin's small hand clutched the can and drank eagerly. He was thirsty. He wiped his lips, grinning obscenely, his eyes now following Martin's every move as his excitement grew. He watched Martin unscrew the cap from the tube of lubricant, squeeze out a long shiny bead, reach downward. There was a momentary shock when the boy felt the cool gel ooze rubbed against his anus, then again, when the nozzle was pushed into his quivering orifice, the sudden coldness spreading into his rectum until his body's heat melted it into him. Justin breathed slowly, deeply as he tried to restore his confidence at a time when he was not certain of what was happening.

"What… was that?"

Martin laughed. "That my boy is the stuff of dreams. It'll will make you as slippery as a wet bar of soap. Without it you'd scream your fucking head off when my dick goes up you."

"Oh!"

Martin moved into position, pointing his erection at Justin's face threateningly. "You can still say no," he taunted. Justin nodded awkwardly, still eager but also reluctant to admit what he wanted. Martin smirked. "If you want me to fuck you, you gotta say please."

"Huh?"

Someone laughed. "Ask him to please fuck your dumb ass so we can get started."

Justin grinned, his eyes flashing with pent-up excitement. "Please fuck me?"

"Please fuck me?" Martin chortled. "Is that all you have to say, Fag-boy. You've gotta tell me why you want to lose your cherry. I want you to talk dirty."

"Okay. I want you to fuck me," Justin implored.

"That's it?"

He was very nervous, yet it was still strangely exciting. The words came to him very easily, repeating what Martin had said to him in the Mall, adding words of his own. He thought for a second or two. "I want you to fuck my butt 'cause I'm a fag boy. Because I want your hairy cock inside me. Okay?"

"Not enough. I want to hear you say 'fuck' more often."

"I want you to fuck me… I want to lose my cherry," Justin added hopefully. "I'm a fag-boy… and… I need a man to fuck me. I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck my ass really hard."

"That's better. Nothing wrong with saying 'fuck', now is there?"

Martin closed the gap between them, nudging Justin's crevice with the huge head of his engorged penis, both pulling and pushing the firm cheeks aside.

"It's going to hurt a bit, kid. All you've got to do is breath deep and push down like you're crapping."

"Will it hurt a lot?" Justin asked nervously. He looked uncomfortable as the monster-glans settled into the rounded node of his anus.

"That depends on how hard you push," someone answered. "Like he told you, push real hard and it doesn't hurt much at all. It just slides right up there before you know it."

Someone laughed.

"Okay. Last time to change your mind, Fag-boy. Are you sure you want my cock in here?"

"Yeah! I wan'yout'fuckme," Justin answered in a fearful rush.

Together, we watched the look on his face change, from the frightened terror of a boy whose innards were about to be impaled for the first time, to the uncertain look of a boy who felt a man's penis slowly going inside him, to a boy who was struggling to accept the huge thing inside him despite his body's best efforts to eliminate it. Then, his expression shifted from enigmatic acceptance of sensations that ranged from pain to pleasure to euphoric joy, to the incredible gut-wrenching delight of having his immature prostate sodomized.

Watching Justin lose his virginity, lying there on the dishevelled bed surrounded by three and at times four men, his slender writhing body illuminated by brilliant lights, should have been disgusting. Instead, I felt a strange benign fascination, a curiosity that was undeniable. It became stronger the longer I watched.

Sometimes his eyes were closed tightly, at other times, wide open while he fed his terrible urge. Sometimes, his jaws were clenched. At other times, his mouth was open, gasping for air, babbling the obscenities they demanded of him. There were close-ups of his face, details that I would never forget even if I never watched the video again. Details like the tears that formed in his eyes when Martin's huge penis was first forced into him, like the weird trembling of his hands and feet as his body tried to adjust and his muscle spasms were vanquished, even the beaded sweat on his forehead.

Mixed in with the voices were other sounds, Justin's groans, a man's frenzied grunting, and the sounds of sex – the wet, sucking, pumping noises that came from between their bodies – sounds that went on forever. There were close-ups of the union as well, occasionally fuzzy and out-of-focus when the camera came too close, mostly not. How I hated what was happening!

Yet, what I watched was no different to what I had done to Justin just hours before. It was impossible not to be affected by what I saw. I was witnessing yet another side of Justin, until then a carefully concealed side of him that no one else would ever see if I had my way. I caressed Justin's bare back and leaning in, kissed the side of his neck. I licked slowly along the length of his shoulder, dipping my tongue into the silky valley of his collar-bone.

"You okay?" I said quietly.

"Uh huh." Justin was silent for a few moments. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be sorry, Justin," I answered gently. "It's not going to happen again, not now that we're together. If I had listened to what you were trying to tell me in the first place, this wouldn't have happened."

"It's not your fault, Dad."

"And it isn't yours either Justin." I kissed him again, this time nibbling on the silky lobe of his ear. "You're very sexy, you know," I added teasingly. "I wish I had been your first, but then we wouldn't be able to watch you losing your virginity."

Justin nodded slightly. "It's weird watching myself on tv."

"He's an awesome little fucker, isn't he?" Martin said loudly.

I wanted to shut his mouth with my fist. However, I controlled my anger. There would a better time. Now, I needed to be patient, to pretend.

"He's right! You're absolutely awesome, Fag-boy," I agreed. "Don't be ashamed of being sexy."

"I can't believe I got it in him so fucking easily the first time," Martin jeered. "His little fuck-hole opened up and just about sucked me inside."

"I used to practice by doing it to myself," Justin said crudely. "I guess doing it so much must have made my hole bigger. It didn't hurt nearly as bad as I thought it would."

Perhaps Justin's self-exploration had prepared him for this. Perhaps his body was simply responding to an instinctive need. Perhaps… Instead of speculating, I watched the video, becoming increasingly enthralled by the prospect of keeping Justin with me until he grew up. When this was over I planned to call his mother, to tell his mother I wanted to make the summer's arrangement permanent.

It was easy to ignore Martin's jibes and they became less annoying as time went on. I found I was looking forward to the close-ups of the real action. The close-up shots showed the extreme difference between young and old in a way that was very exciting.

Justin's smaller pale body was smooth and hairless and contrasted vividly against the dark-suntan of the hair-covered man who sodomized him. Even the absence of hair on Martin's groin was arousing. His smooth pale pubis slammed against Justin's similarly pale buttocks. Throughout, Justin was the passive recipient, acquiescing to the positions in which he was placed. Although he always yielded to the men's demands, he was a long way from being resigned to what was being done to him. Despite his apparent stress, he appeared to be enjoying it, if not all then certainly most of the time. Whenever I was unable to see Martin's face, I found myself imagining that I was in his place.

Each time they changed position and the monstrous organ was briefly extracted, the camera came close. Each time, the boy's reddened anus filled the television. It was wide open, or so I thought. The opening looked big enough for a man's finger to be inserted without touching the rim. And then, a finger was thrust mercilessly into his dilated hole and he was lifted bodily upwards and repositioned while the men laughed. Martin's penis wasn't as large as I thought, but it was not far from it. Justin endured each brutal re-penetration, lying motionless until the man behind him was fully inside again. Then, slowly moving in the same erratic rhythm, Justin took the huge penis deep back inside his bowels and achieved the satisfaction that he so desperately needed. Fully impaled, Justin's normally pinched pink buttocks swelled outward, forming a clamp of firm light-colored flesh around the thrusting member.

Together, we watched the man's penis thrusting into his lubricant-slicked anus, stabbing between the glistening mounds of his buttocks, faster and faster until both of their scrotums became wrinkled, then frantically, furiously fucking. Each of the boy's orgasms were captured, shots of his face contorted, mindlessly gasping, screaming in ecstasy, sometimes repeatedly shuddering. Sometimes his squat penis was as hard as a metal spike, sometimes it was as limp as a wet sponge and barely large enough to indicate his gender.

I was stunned by the amount of fluid that oozed out of Justin's body, often squirting from the narrow ring of his tightly stretched anus as the penis slammed into him. It looked like it was escaping from a powerful plunger working within a sleeve that had less than a perfect seal. There was blood too, but it was never more than a reddish smear along the pistoning shaft. There were always interruptions in the action that brought the camera back to Justin's face, the sound of his whimpering, snivelling, shameful pleasure. When Martin finished, and dragged his semen-drenched organ from Justin's sloppy hole I took a deep breath. Never had I witnessed anything like it before. I had watched the man's orgasm, recognizing the clenching buttocks as the only sign of his ejaculation.

After a few seconds, Martin moved back, resting on his haunches. The camera came forward again, and hands from either side lifted Justin's hips up, presenting his wide-spread buttocks for inspection. I was not prepared to see the gaping hole that had once been a ten-year-old boy's anus. The opening was now nearly an inch in diameter revealing crimson within. There was no pucker, just glistening red flesh that had born the brunt of thirty minutes of constant sodomy. Air wheezed out of the boy's dilated anus, expelling a dribble of milky semen. He lay silent, physically exhausted.

"It looks like you really filled the little fucker up with cum, Martin."

"Yeah, I did, didn't I? He milked me good too. As soon as I saw him, I knew what he was. He worked my cock like a pro, right up to the end. I haven't shot like that for years."

"He's a hot one, all right."

"He may be the best fuck I've ever had. Tight too, at least he was when I started. He's loose now though, that's for sure."

"Get him to clean you off."

"Good idea. Make sure you get this on tape. With this being his first time sucking a dirty dick and all, I hope he doesn't puke on me," Martin guffawed.

He came forward on his knees, still straddling Justin's limp form, until his thighs were against the boy's chest.

"You know what to do with it fag-boy?" he enquired.

Justin regarded the man above him with something akin to distaste if not outright revulsion. The partially erect penis wavered in front of his face, curving out from the man's hairless groin. It was covered with slime, a brown-tainted mixture of slick lubricant and thick semen and tiny spots of yellow mucus that had been dragged out his bowels. There were streaks of red, his blood. He bravely kept his mouth closed.

"Has he ever sucked a guy's cock? What's he waiting for?" someone asked.

Martin nodded. "I got it in his mouth while we were at the Mall. He knows what to do okay with it." he laughed. "Jesus, kid. It's only shit. Open your mouth, Fag-boy."

Justin complied, closing his eyes to block out what was coming closer and closer. He trembled, unable to quell his rising excitement. He could smell it. His smell. He felt it brush his lips. It was slippery and hot, and the pungent odor filled his nose until it seemed like the natural thing to do was to take the man's penis into his mouth. He no longer cared about where it had been, about what it was covered with. His lips parted and his tongue cautiously came forward to lick the bitter-sweet fluid from the bloated bell-head.

"Lick it all over," Martin commanded.

"It's dirty," Justin whined as his lips came away. They were wet with semen.

"Lick it! Or you can get dressed right now and be on your way, Fag-boy," Martin taunted. "That would be a real pity because the fun has only just started."

"Okay!"

Then Justin's tongue pushed out again and he licked, cleaning away the foul mess that was there. He felt soiled, yet he knew it was no different inside his body. He could feel the wetness seeping between his thighs and buttocks, the ever-present sense that there was a huge void inside him, a void that he would give anything to fill again.

A few minutes later another man took Martin's place, but in a different position. This time, Justin was turned onto his back. A third man, who everyone called Pete, held the boy's ankles next to his ears. From between his knees, Justin grinned back at the video camera, Pete's huge half-erect penis dangling over his forehead. It was the biggest penis I had ever seen. Like Martin. Pete's crotch had also been shaven. His huge testicles dangled low and swung back and forth every time he moved. The bewildered look on Justin's face during that momentary interruption while Jake positioned the head of his six-inch [15 cm] penis was revealing. He was lust crazed, unable to control the desire that raged inside him.

Justin pushed back, shoving with all his strength the instant he felt Jake's penis gouging at his dilated opening. A very weakened opening gave way on the first thrust. His mouth opened, uttering a silent scream. His cry strangled in his throat. It was a scream not of pain but delirious with joy as he felt the hot hungry thickness of it sinking into him, the sheer ecstasy of being filled by living flesh. He shuddered, closing his eyes to block his agony. It was two inches shorter than Martin's penis, but nearly as thick. Like Martin, there was no hair on the man's body where his underpants covered.

The penis went in all the way with the first thrust, then stroked back and forth slowly until the boy was used to it. Then, Jake withdrew completely. Holding his penis on target, he slammed back, punching into the open anus. Again he withdrew until the crimson rim of his glans was visible, then in again. A dribble of saliva ran from the corner of Justin's mouth, his eyes boggling from the added stimulation of the anal torment. More obscenities, a garbled plea, head shaking wildly, small hands clutching at his pale glistening buttocks to pull his cheeks wide apart, the man's penis pounding furiously. I swallowed and tried to breath slowly, anything to stem my own urgent need to achieve release. Another close-up, the frenzied jerking of Jake's suddenly much-larger penis, the urethra pulsing where it passed through the constricting band, knowing that yet another man's thick hot semen was spurting inside the boy. It was over quickly, even before Justin had achieved a single orgasm.

Terry, who until then had been the photographer, took his turn next. He waited until Justin had finished his oral ministrations to his predecessor before stepping into the camera's view. His sex was average in size, or slightly smaller, but that deficiency did not stop him. He had been shaved as well, but not as recently. His groin was covered in a black stubble that suddenly switched to a line of thick curling black hairs as it neared his navel.

Both Martin and Jake helped Justin into position. They held him in position, the boy being too weak to even squat above Terry. It would have been easy to assume that Justin was being forced. It certainly would have been easier on me, but the fact was he was not forced. He was merely too exhausted to move by himself. The only coercion was in getting him to change to unfamiliar positions. They held him under the arms and lowered him while Terry directed his vertical penis into Justin's waiting hole. They shoved him down hard and the boy's eyes opened wide with shock as the new penis rammed home. It took several more deep thrusts until Justin was comfortable being a jockey. He rode Terry's penis valiantly, his contorted expression gradually becoming gleeful when he realized that he was actually able to do it without their assistance.

Justin's head was cradled in my left arm, his body fitting naturally into mine despite the difference in size. I nuzzled his silky hair with my nose, intoxicated by the delicious boy-smell. In particular, I smelled the aroma of herbs from shampoo used before we left the hotel. I inhaled deeply. I tried to become part of him, drawing his essence deep into me while I curved my body into his warmth. Justin wriggled his buttocks against my persistent erection, his deliberate and very enticing provocation concealed from Martin. I slid my hand down to his hip and slowly grazed the curvature of his upper cheek. With only the fabric of his sweat pants between us, I felt as much as heard his soft sigh. Martin snorted, as if sneering at our show. It paled beside the video we were watching. Despite him, Justin wriggled back slightly, increasing the contact. My penis followed the deep groove of his crack, comfortably surrounded by warm boy-flesh. However, I knew all to well that if I left it there, eventually at least one of us would want to take advantage of the opportunity.

I wanted to do more, maybe even fuck him in front of Martin to prove the boy was mine, that he had no rights to him. However, I had a single-minded goal and I did not want to orgasm, at least not yet. I backed away a few inches. My fingers tucked in beneath the elastic waistband of Justin's track-suit, seeking the greater heat of his crevice. I traced the dividing line of his buttocks down towards his thighs. I closed my eyes, no longer wanting to, or needing to watch what was happening. My fingers pressed further, pushing the warm cloth deeper into the boy's crevice until his firm cheeks embraced my fingers. I felt his wetness, my wetness, the wetness that we had made together. The fluids I had deposited earlier in the morning were still seeping out.

"God you're so sexy," I breathed in his ear. "I still can't believe you did that."

A sudden crude laugh from the adjacent couch interrupted us and we both looked towards the television. Man and boy were lying cheek to cheek, obviously exhausted. There were tiny beads of perspiration on both of their bodies. Justin was draped over Terry, his legs spread wide apart to reveal the man's still-distended penis. It pulled free and flopped against the inside of Justin's right thigh, slicked with slimy semen. It looked very large beside Justin's shrivelled penis.

"This is the part where fag-boy gets his first cock ring," Martin laughed. "He couldn't get it up for Terry so Terry gave him hand.

I swallowed, barely able to control my rage. A hand held out a small metal key-ring. There was laughter as one of the men made a joke about it still being too large. The video camera moved forward, refocusing. Held in Terry's large hand, Justin's limp penis appeared tiny. The ring was placed over the puckered tip of his penis and slowly pressed until it reached the base. It was not a tight fit. Then another hand moved into the picture, squeezing the boy's small scrotum until his two testicles were like little bubbles covered in translucent pink skin. The fingers grasped, closing, forcing the pea-sized balls against Justin's penis. I wanted to scream.

"It looks like it must have hurt pretty bad," Martin chuckled.

One testicle popped under the band. A moment later, the other followed, but not before the fingers had blanched from the pressure. Justin's loud shriek of pain seemed hollow and divorced from the image that filled the television screen. The fingers stroked the short penis, mercilessly poking at the boy's bunched up testicles. By the time Justin's penis had achieved the desired level of hardness, the distended veins in his penis had turned purple.

The camera moved back into its previous position. Several of the men repositioned Justin. Pete knelt between the boy's outstretched legs. His rampart sex reminded me of Priapus, a creature who was half-man, half-goat that I had seen on an ancient Greek vase. There was no question from the smirk on his face of what he intended to do with the huge appendage. Like Priapus, his erection was enormous. He slathered lubricant over the long shaft, sliding his slippery hand back and forth over the plum-sized head.

Again Justin's buttocks pushed back at me. His anxious signal was unambiguous and urgent. He was as excited as I was. Like me, he wanted more than my fingers caressing his butt-cheeks, and he was now inviting my active participation. I gave his firm small bottom a parting caress. Confronted by the lascivious spectacle only ten feet away, I resolved to behave myself for the moment despite the powerful temptation lying before me. It was less a matter of self-control than the need to see our plans accomplished. I leaned forward and lightly kissed the nape of Justin's neck before continuing along to his shoulder.

"Stop kissing me, Dad," Justin whispered urgently, He brushed my lips away. "That tickles."

"So? What's wrong with it?" I teased. "I kissed you just about everywhere last night. I plan on kissing you all the time from now on," I added as I ran my lips back up to his head with a line of slightly moist kisses.

I licked his neck behind his ear and dragged my tongue down to his shoulder again.

"Give him a hickey," Martin jeered.

"Do you want a hickey?" I teased.

"Okay, only not on my shoulder, Dad! People will see it when we go swimming."

"Where?"

"If you have to, do it where no one can see it. No! Not there either!" Justin giggled loudly as I started to suck where his neck turned to join his shoulder.

"Boys will be boys," Martin laughed from the other side of the room. He had his hand in his crotch, obviously stroking an erection judging from the prominent bulge. "Especially fag-boys!"

"You got that right," I laughed. "I can't believe he's going to take that cock. It must be twelve fucking inches."

"Every bit of it. Hey, Justin, you want to come over here for a while and I'll kiss you where no one will see it, except me and your old man of course," Martin guffawed.

"No way! I don't want hickeys anywhere okay? Besides, I have to go to hospital tomorrow for another test," Justin lied easily.

He reached behind him and squeezed my penis meaningfully. Rebuked, I returned to smelling his hair and kissing the top of his head. I realized he felt uncomfortable doing anything in front of Martin, especially after what Martin had done with him the last time. Justin's small hand stayed there, rubbing with delicious caresses. He had every intention of arousing me further, knowing all the while that I would not be able to respond in the way that I wanted. However, two could play at this game, I decided.

By ourselves, it would have been a very different matter. After only one day, the fundamental rule was in place. Either of us could initiate sex, but the other person always had the right to say yes or no. That was the only rule, and it had been clear from the outset a day earlier. I hoped that one rule and the need to be in love before anything sexual happened would guide Justin for the rest of his life. It was what separated me from four other men.

I had thoroughly explained the rule and my position to Justin. To do otherwise would not only be unfair to him, but irresponsible. In a way, it backfired. For Justin, it provided a way to further his passion until I was about to go crazy. It became a game of denial and instigation. Without reason he wavered between rejection and impulsive prompting, changing his mind whenever he desired to exert his power over me. He tortured me, leading me on until I was almost overwhelmed by my raging lust and then dissenting just to postpone my satisfaction and increase his glee. Justin was a prick teaser, junior model. I loved him even more because of it, relishing the game of temptation. I expected I would fuck him again and again that night as well, but it would be when we were alone, when this was over and done with. Whatever he wanted I would always do, and we both knew it. I worshipped the ground he walked on.

Already an hour had passed, but it seemed longer. It seemed as if time had stopped for both of us, instead of rushing headlong into the bottomless pit of an unknown future. At that moment, it would still have been possible to get up and leave. Jealousy, anger, continuing hatred, and primal lust kept me there, if only to finish what I had started.

"Your son is something else. He really likes cock, don't you Fag-boy?" Martin tormented.

Justin ignored him. "Not wrong," I laughed.

"What he did with Pete's cock is fucking incredible. I didn't think it would fit. Talk about a horny little fuck-machine. Just look at his face! He wanted it in his ass so bad he couldn't stand it."

On cue, the television filled with Justin's face. His expression would haunt me forever. It was anxious, frightened, intoxicated by what was happening to him. It had to hurt, but if it did, there was no sign of it. His eyes closed as he strained downward, trying his best to force his body over the enormous bell-shaped cap.

My prurient interest was galvanized and I found myself wishing that the camera would be directed to show what Pete was doing to him. I knew I would be amazed.

"Fucking incredible what Pete did to your kid's ass," Martin joked. "Frankly, I'm surprised it fit. Taking that fuck-pole up his chute must have felt the same as getting fisted. You ever done that Alex?"

"No!" I answered. "Can't say I've had the pleasure."

"I had a boy do me once or twice. He wasn't into a lot of the weird stuff. Not like some kids I've dicked over the years. That boy wasn't much older than your kid. Got his arm in my ass almost to his elbow before I came all over the place," Martin laughed. "It was okay but there's really nothing quite like a big cock in your ass, is there fag-boy?"

Justin tensed. He shook his head slightly. His eyes, like my eyes, were glued to the television as he watched himself. His remote face showed his distress, as much as his heart pounding in boundless excitement.

A strangled high-pitched cry interrupted the silence. Suddenly, there was no longer any question of what Pete was doing to Justin. At least he was doing it very slowly. It seemed distant, yet watching Justin's face contort with savage pain each time that the big glans tried to get further inside him was almost more than I could stand. No wonder his sphincter muscle had been devastated. Justin struggled frantically, his body writhing underneath the man's body, jerking, suddenly, incoherently screaming. He was in the throes of what appeared to be yet another orgasm. How many had he had already? A dozen? The men held him there while he struggled like a fish on a spear. The camera shifted position, focusing, then shifting again. There was blood on the part of his scrotum that had not been forced through the metal ring. His legs were pulled wide apart. His buttocks were compressed by the enormous penis that was now lodged halfway inside his rectum. The impossible was possible. It seemed to completely fill the gap between his thighs, bulging out over his small wet cheeks. Even the camera was shaking.

"God, how can he do that," I thought aloud.

"If you ever needed proof how much your boy likes a big cock, I think he's just given it to you," Martin taunted. "I bet you still can't shit properly, can you Justin?"

"He can't," I laughed. I hoped Justin could sense my rage even if my words suggested I was amused. "But it doesn't matter. He'll either get over it or get used to it. Either way, I don't care. Just so long as he doesn't shit in my bed."

Several minutes passed while Pete waited for Justin's body to stretch far enough for movement to be possible. Gradually, the man above and behind him started to stroke, pushing and pulling the boy back and forth with each stroke. All the while, Justin's pressure against my erection was unrelenting, his reticence to allow my overly passionate kisses notwithstanding. Unlike a lot of gay boys, Justin did not mind being kissed. Apparently, kissing him in front of Martin was a problem.

"Man, I'm getting close just watching Pete work his cute little ass," Martin commented with a crude laugh.

The video was having the same effect on me, much as I wanted to deny it. I knew Justin could feel my rigid hardness. His back was placed so that the head of my penis was poking at the top of his crack. There was no way he could not feel it jabbing into his spine. He wriggled again and again, trying to get comfortable while he rubbed himself against me. I smiled and hugged him gently.

"Not so tight! You're squeezing me to death, Dad," Justin said impatiently.

"Sorry," I said quickly.

Martin laughed crudely. Some time during the last few minutes, he had extracted his penis through his now-open zipper. He stroked it slowly, enclosing it in his right fist and grinning at Justin. I felt Justin tremble slightly, but whether it was from excitement or something else, I could not tell.

"Just look at that fag-boy fuck," Martin said loudly. "You'd think his ass-hole would split open with that much cock inside it, but he loves it. He fucking loves it. His little dick is hard enough to snap off."

There was no denying the look on Justin's face when the camera angle shifted. He certainly wasn't smiling, yet he was engrossed in the terror. He was engorged on 'cock'. I smiled. From personal experience I knew that Justin liked being fucked more than any male I had ever known. During the night he made no secret of it. By ourselves, he would have pushed himself onto my penis without hesitating. He was inhibited only for one reason, because Martin was in the room.

I poked my finger into the wet circle in the rear of his sweat pants as far as it could go. I knew it would take only a matter of another minute or two before Justin capitulated. Then, for a few minutes, he would take the lead. I expected it would take longer that the last time with Martin in the room, but watching the video had also made him very excited. I waited only a minute before I took the next step in my plan.

"Okay, Justin," I whispered.

I waited and counted the seconds off while he prepared himself to play the most important role of his life. I got to thirty before I felt his nimble fingers bravely tugging at the zipper of my jeans. His eagerness to get down to business was not out of character, at least based on my experience with him. Already, we had covered a lot of territory and made up for a lot of lost time, but it had taken most of the night. My penis lurched when he parted the open zipper and his fingertips brushed the warm cloth of my briefs. A moment later he had discerned the underlying form of my erection and his fingers crept along my shaft until he touched the head. There he stopped, squeezing lightly and using a fingernail to gently scratch at the open slit in the crown.

"Boy, he's really big, and so wet. He's oozing pre-cum all over the place," Justin giggled.

"And fag-boys always like their men to have big cocks," Martin interrupted cruelly. "Was that boy of yours born to fuck or what? What have you been feeding him? Cum instead of milk?"

"No idea."

"You're lucky. I wouldn't mind getting his ass on a regular basis myself. What do you think, Fag-boy. Do you want a piece of mine when he's done?"

I did not have to see Justin's face to know that he was smiling as he rubbed my glans. Only ten years old and already he knew how to extract the most incredible sensations from a male organ while he inflicted his own cruel torment. Four men had taught him more than most males learn in a lifetime. He was learning the fine art of 'prick teasing' as he went. It was about time to take the next step.

"Whatever goes up my boy's butt is up to him," I answered.

Martin smirked. "I know what's been up your boy's butt, that's for sure."

"So do I," Justin rebuked. "My dad fucked me really great this morning. I almost didn't get out of bed."

"What about last night?" I chided.

"You fucked him last night?" Martin asked dryly.

"Of course he did. He deep-dicked me for about an hour last night. It was fucking incredible," Justin said flatly. "I could barely move. By the time I fell asleep he must have done it up my ass six times."

"Seven," I corrected. "But you were nearly out of it by the time I finished. There was so much sperm running out of you I had to get a towel from the bathroom to put under your ass. Hey, I don't know about you Martin, but I'm ready to get his clothes off and get to work."

"You mean?" Martin asked cautiously.

"If you want to fuck him, it's okay by me."

"Me too," Justin offered sensuously. "How about it, stud? Are you ready to stick your big hard cock all the way up my hot little ass again?"

"You're joking!"

"I'm not. That's why we're here, isn't is Justin."

Justin grinned crudely. "Yeah."

"Do you think we're weird or what?" I laughed.

"Because you want to watch your son's ass getting screwed?" Martin said.

"Uh huh? How about it?"

"You're pretty confident," Martin commented.

"Yeah, I am, aren't I? If you want to fuck him, he's all yours."

Justin scooted away, standing up in front of the couch and partially blocking my view. His hips oscillated seductively. It was a very enjoyable view of his wriggling buttocks, enough to cause my penis to jump with anticipation. He walked towards Martin, stopping only when he stood directly in front of him. Martin sat up, abandoning his stiff organ. His hands reach out, clasping Justin's hips, looping his thumbs into the waist band. He paused.

"You want me to strip him?" he asked uncertainly.

I nodded. "It won't be the first time, will it? It's okay by me, if that's what you want to take his clothes off. Go on, what are you waiting for."

Martin's hands tugged slightly, pulling the sweatpants down several inches, but not enough to reveal any flesh because Justin's fleecy top slipped down to cover the exposed skin. He looked up at the boy, grinning. Then, deliberately, slowly pulled the warm soft cloth down further. He didn't stop until he reached Justin's knees.

"Lift your top up," he instructed.

I could hear the excitement in his voice, alert to the extent of his arousal. Justin's hands moved up slowly, smoothly, shamelessly. With his crotch only slightly below Martin's eyes, the man was looking directly at the boy's small hard penis and the strangely shaped scrotum that was barely visible.

"What happened to his nuts?" Martin asked.

I swallowed my bitterness. "He lost the right one. It got a bit mashed when he was here last time," I answered. I swallowed again, took a deep breath, focused my thoughts on staying calm.

"How? Fuck, I didn't think it got that squashed?"

"It did. That thing you guys put on his dick almost took the other one."

"Sorry!" Martin said. "We didn't mean to cause him any problems with the cock-ring."

There was no trace of regret in his voice, merely an admission that the ring had been used. I breathed out, watching as Martin finished removing Justin's clothes. His hands stroked the sides of boy's legs, travelling from his knees to his hips. There, his fingers scooped up the hem of Justin's tee-shirt and began to lift it higher, exposing more and more of Justin's flawless pale-skinned abdomen.

"Hell, there's no reason to be sorry. In a way it was the best fucking thing that happened to him. The only pity is the damned doctors didn't finish him off. His left ball is only there for decoration anyway. It's not like it works any longer."

"I don't get it," Martin said. "You don't care about your kid's nuts?"

"Why don't you tell him, Justin?"

"I don't care. Shit! It's not like I'm going to want to have babies when I'm older is it?" Justin chimed in on cue.

"Right on!"

"Huh? You don't mind?" Martin asked suspiciously, his question directed to me.

"Hardly. I don't think he was ever the marrying kind, do you?" I joked.

Martin smirked and glanced at Justin crudely. "Probably not. He likes sucking cock too much." He glanced at Justin before looking back at me. "There is one thing I don't get."

"What don't you get?" I asked brusquely.

"Everything! Fucking all of it!" Martin snarled. "You're being here, for one thing. You're acting like nothing's out of the ordinary. Shit! Your kid got his little ass worked over and you don't get angry. Hell, he even lost a fucking nut and you seem not to care two cents about it."

I shrugged absently. "Maybe you going to think I'm crazy, but before all this happened, I used to dream about getting him fixed," I said.

"Fixed?"

"You know, fixed. Castrated, gelded, de-balled, take your pick."

"You're joking!"

"Nope!"

"Why the hell would you do a thing like that?"

"I like him smooth and soft, I guess. It's my fantasy, to keep him the same way as he is now. Hell, I even bought a special tool used for gelding animals. I thought it might work on a boy just as well."

"You were really going to castrate him?" Martin asked in disbelief. "Your own kid? You'd do that to him?"

"Maybe. I really don't know. I thought about it a lot. The opportunity never came up, though he and I have talked about it a couple of times. He wasn't exactly wild about the idea."

"I was afraid, that's all."

"It looked like it would hurt like hell," I explained with a sadistic smile. "The thing fitted a rubber band around the balls so tight that they eventually drop off."

Martin appeared at a loss for words, yet his disbelief was gradually evaporating. He studied me closely, his eyes suspicious.

"Why don't you tell him why I wanted your balls off, Justin," I said.

"My dad doesn't want me to grow up and become a man," Justin smirked. "He doesn't want me to cum like he does, and I won't if I don't take the hormone shots when I'm older."

"Actually, I don't think I could have gone through with it though. There might have been an infection or something. Besides, with his mother hanging around all the time," I added, "it would have been damned difficult to get him away long enough for it to heal up."

"Yeah, I imagine she'd figure out that something was missing."

"This way, it was done properly in the hospital and no one can ever blame me. I even convinced them to leave his other ball there. They were going to remove it as well. It was all I could do not to laugh at the time. Still, it's a shame they left it. It's not like he's going to need it for making babies."

"You're not angry about what happened to him here?" Martin queried.

"Why? I got what I wanted, and so did Justin. I guess I was mad when I first saw what had happened to him. Then, when he lost his ball," I smiled, "well, I didn't mind as much after that. I like him hairless. I guess I've always had a thing for tiny dicks. My only mistake was not letting the doctors remove his other ball, but I've even got that figured out."

"Meaning what?"

"I'm taking Justin down to Mexico in a few days before we go back home. I've got the name of a doctor there who's supposed to do sex-change operations. What I've got in mind will fix the problem once and for all."

Justin giggled. "It'll be awesome not getting all hairy and stuff as I get older, and no one except my dad will ever know because my swimming costume or undies covers it."

Martin regarded both of us in silence. One minute passed so slowly that time seemed to stop.

"Okay, enough fucking around. Let's get to the point of why you are here?"

I winked at him. "You said it yourself already, Martin. It's no secret that the kid's a fag-boy. The fact is, we both know that fag-boys like my son need to be fucked every chance they get."

"Not good enough," Martin growled.

"Okay! If you must know, I wanted to meet you," I admitted.

"It turns you on, doesn't it? Knowing I was the first guy who nailed your son's ass. It was me who got his cherry," he replied proudly.

I felt sick inside yet I kept control. Slowly, I nodded. "Something like that. I guess I would have gotten around to fucking him eventually. I've been thinking about it for a while now. I always imagined taking him on a camping trip. Just the two of us alone in the woods, sleeping together at night, feeling him up while I think he's asleep only to find out he's not."

"It sounds like fun. Why didn't you do it?"

"Scared, I guess. Only I shouldn't have been. Did you know the little faggot used to work his asshole over every night with one of his toys. It was only a matter of time until someone took his virginity. You beat me to it."

"Yeah, I guess I did. Me and three other guys," Martin chuckled. "And as you can see on the video, he lost his cherry big time."

"Not something he'll ever forget," I laughed. "You reamed him out pretty good."

"He liked it right from the get go," Martin smirked. "Your boy has a hot little hiney. When they're like that, the bigger the better."

"You're not wrong! After the last few days I know from personal experience that he doesn't have a problem taking a big one through the back door."

"What have you got?"

"Seven and a bit [18 cm]," I answered.

Martin smirked. His penis was quite a bit bigger than average and he was proud of it. Ever since he had sex with his younger brother, he had believed that length and thickness accounted for most of a boy's pleasure.

"That's more than enough for a boy his age to know he's been fucked. Especially for a fag-boy, that's for sure" he laughed. "It might make his hole a bit on the large side, though."

"It's still loose back there after all this time," Justin said.

"Actually, at his last check-up, the doctor said his asshole is never going to be tight again," I added with a crude smirk. "If only he knew just how loose it was going to be."

Martin showed not a bit of remorse. He regarded the slender naked boy dispassionately, his eyes assessing the smooth young body for any imperfection. Finding none, except now unevenly shaped scrotum, he shrugged.

"I'm not surprised. By the time we finished with your kid, his ass-hole was bigger than this."

Martin formed a crude circle with his thumb and first finger and held it so that we could see. It was nearly the same diameter as my penis. I nearly choked.

Justin giggled. "It's a bit smaller than that now."

"You can see how he got his ass really stretched out," Martin added.

He gestured at the television. One of the men was holding out a bright pink butt-plug for the camera to get a close-up. It was short and very fat. The other men grasped the boy's thin legs and pushed them back, exposing his anus in the process. The camera zoomed in for another close-up. I nearly vomited. Justin's violated anus filled the screen. A gaping crimson hole opened into his rectum, the striated ripples oozing ochre-colored foamy fluid. Then a fuzzy image that was difficult to interpret, flesh colored with the pink plug. I heard Justin' muffled shrieks and the men's laughter. A moment later, the hand moved away and focus was resumed. All that could be seen was the pink dome of the plug's exterior. The bulbed end was so large that it distorted the boy's buttocks, yet what was hidden formed a ridge in both cheeks where his insides had been displaced.

"God almighty!" I murmured.

"Fucking right!" Martin smirked. "Now check this out. The look on his face is something you don't want to miss."

On cue the camera panned up. The boy was heaving, breathing frantically while his arms and legs writhed uncontrollably. His face was racked by orgasmic agony, his full red lips twisted and contorted by the throes of multiple releases that were, or at least appeared to be challenging his sanity. It was in the midst of that cruelly inflicted torture, that I was taken aback. Justin's pleading voice was barely audible. His four words were unmistakable.

"Oh Daddy, fuck me."

I shuddered, realizing what was going on in his mind along with the horrifying pain. I had tried to avoid the inevitable conclusion, knowing all along what he had wanted from me, knowing but not admitting. It was my fault that I had committed the act too late.

"I forgot about that," Justin said softly.

"He wants his daddy to fuck him. Can you believe it? The fag-boy is hot for his daddy. Fuck me, daddy. Fuck me," Martin chortled. "Listen to him. He's begging for you to fuck him."

"It was a pity I waited so long, but he got what he wanted last night," I said dryly. "I must have nailed his ass a half a dozen times before he passed out."

"And from the look of this, he still wants more," Martin chortled with a playful flip of his fingers against the short, hard shaft of Justin's erect penis.

"That's another reason why we're here," I added. "I'd say he was ready for a repeat performance, wouldn't you?"

"With all of us?" Martin queried.

"I don't see why not. I want to see him get his brains fucked out for myself."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I reckon I got you figured out now. From the second you walked through the door, I knew what you wanted. You really want to see your boy get his ass fucked, don't you?"

"Not wrong. What about it? Do you want to call your friends and see if they're interested?"

"Maybe. Your kid was a great fuck. Maybe the best I've ever had. Most kids will scream their heads off, but not your boy. He was a bit noisy at times, mostly because he wanted us to fuck him harder. There were a few times when he begged us for it."

"I want to see how much he can take. I really want to see you and friends fuck the crap out of him."

"Okay! But what happens here, stays here. No one else knows. My friends and I have a little club going."

"That sounds interesting," I smiled.

He nodded slowly, still uncertain about trusting me. "My friends and I have a few common interests."

"Boys?" I suggested blandly.

"That, and we don't like pubic hair."

"Maybe I ought to sign up for a membership."

"We're not taking new members."

"So you're not interested in a repeat performance with Justin?"

"I didn't say that. You'll get to see him fucked and a whole lot more. Why don't you take him in the bathroom and help him get ready. Your boy knows all about flushing himself out."

"You mean give him an enema?"

"You got it! I'm not keen on fucking shit. Maybe you are, but I'm not. I like my boys clean inside and outside."

I nodded, wincing while I spoke. "I know what you mean, Marty. There was so much of his crap on the sheets this morning I had to throw them in the bath tub before we left." I turned to Justin. "Come on, Fag-boy. Let's get your ass ready so you can have some real fun when they get here."

As we left the living room, Martin picked up the telephone. I heard the beeps as he punched in seven numbers. It was a local call. The muted sound of his voice came down the hall once we were in the bathroom. He had taken the bait.

"Now what?" Justin whispered.

"Now we get you ready. I don't want him getting suspicious if he comes in here."

"Are they going to… you know?"

"Fuck you?" I finished. I shook my head. "No! No way! That's not going to happen. I promise you that. I love you too much to let anyone do that to you again. I was almost ready to kill him when he took your clothes off."

"I know. I saw the look on your face," Justin acknowledged.

A faint smile creased his lips. I knew that he took pleasure in seeing my jealous anger. I smiled back at him despite the bile that rose in my throat.

"Where's the stuff?" I asked dispassionately.

"In there," Justin replied with a vague gesture at the cabinet behind the basin.

The plastic coating was peeling away from the warped board that provided the door. The white knob was grime-darkened and greasy and unpleasant to touch. Inside was an array of enema implements and half-used tubes of lubricant together with items that might normally be found in a bathroom. I extracted the enema tube, a nozzle that appeared as if it had not been used, and the requisite plastic bag. It took about a minute to fill the bag with warm water, attach the tube and nozzle, and apply a liberal coating of K-Y to the five inches [12½ cm] that would go inside Justin.

With a smile that was somewhat more gleeful that I wanted, Justin bent forward over the vanity and used his hands to part his cheeks. I looked into the wide-open crack and was slightly amused to see the unmistakable signs of my recent visit. As any child abuse specialist knows, there is no disguising a recently abused anus. The ring of tissue surrounding the opening was bloated and red. It still had the appearance of being distended, yet in reality, it was as closed as it would ever be. There was a trail of wetness that went half the length of his crack. It had as its unmistakable source, the semen that continued to drool from his dilated opening.

It was a simple matter to insert the nozzle, no more than a slight push to get it started, and then it slid in easily.

"Okay?"

"Yeah! If feels like a really thin dick," Justin giggled.

"Like you would know," I teased. "I thought you were only into men with huge cocks."

"You're disgusting!" he grinned over his shoulder. "I learned my lesson. I only like big cocks when they're your size exactly."

"Hmmm. That's nice to know. Are you ready?"

Justin nodded. I opened the clamp and allowed the water to drain down and into him. He sighed as the heat streamed inside his body and began to fill his rectum. Another sigh, even louder. His buttocks clenched as he instinctively tightened around the plastic tube. There was no way for him to hold back the flow.

"I bet that feels nice," I taunted.

"'s okay."

I grinned. Already the bladder was about half-empty. Lovingly I squeezed his right buttock, pressing my fingers into the firmly muscled, yet very soft cheek.

"Don't you dare let go before you're on the toilet," I warned.

Justin nodded again. He was patient, shifting slightly as the sensations became uncomfortable. He breathed steadily, taking deep lung fulls as if trying to time them to the inner rhythm that made his limbs twitch erratically.

"Okay," I said quietly. "It's done."

"Mmmmman, it feels funny inside my belly."

"I bet it does. There's at least two quarts [2 l] of water sloshing around inside you."

"It feels like there's gallons," Justin remarked as he slowly straightened up again and turned to face me.

He grinned triumphantly, flaunting his nakedness. His penis stuck out bravely like a little pink finger that was crowned by a purple-tinted tip that bulged beyond the tight ring of his foreskin. It was a deliciously hard prong that pointed from his knotted scrotum towards me. It was all I could do not to fall to my knees and worship it, giving it the homage it was due. He stood before me silently, his hands on his hips like a shameless whore ready and willing to do whatever was asked of him. I was tempted. For me, as it is for any man who loved boys, it was the most beautiful sight in the entire world.

I breathed out and opened my mouth, exerting all the self-control that I could muster. Far be it from me to make Justin aware that the end of my torment was still a long way away. However, he also wanted me. I could see it in his eyes, his nervous hands, the hungry twitching of his penis. Even as my head lowered and closed the distance to his outreaching organ, he sighed in the anticipation of the pleasure I was about to give him.

The taste was familiar, a sweetness from his sleek warmth enveloping my tongue, pulsing alive and eager for my oral cavity, pushing with abdominal jerks that wanted to become pelvic thrusts. His penis slid all the way into my mouth, until his soft pubis rubbed my lips and my nose was squeezed into his firm belly so hard that even breathing was an effort. He pumped forcefully, bumping his small testicle about in the loose folds of his scrotum, brushing my chin with each urgent inward motion.

My joy was short-lived. After no more than half-a-dozen short jabs, Justin backed away, breathing deeply as he felt the sudden spasm of imminent explosion. He clutched his belly with both hands, obvious to the wet sheen of my saliva that coated his penis and groin.

"Shit!" he groaned.

I could not help but smile. "I imagine so."

He grinned back at me, the spasm fading slowly to a dull sensation of being very full. He stepped forward again to bring his penis within reach of my mouth. A second cramp came almost immediately. His groan was warning enough. I guided him sideways towards the toilet and he sat down heavily, grunting as the pressure inside his bowels built to barely manageable levels.

He looked at me with pained eyes. They were also eyes full of love and I gazed back at him, nodding my head slowly. Justin closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and groaned loudly. The air was about halfway out of his lungs when his sphincter lost control. The release occurred with a whoosh and he exhaled fully, clenching his lips and eyes as the waste splattered into the water beneath him.

"God!" Justin moaned.

"It's okay," I said softly, reassuringly. "It'll only take a few more seconds."

"Cramps are real bad," he gasped after a few seconds.

"I expect I used too much water," I answered.

"Sorry 'bout the smell."

"Don't be. I think you're over the worst of it, Justin."

"It really stinks. A person could die if he breathed too much of it," Justin chortled.

"Uh huh. I'll live though."

"I'm not worried about you."

I grinned back at him and stood up. While Justin finished expelling the last of the waste, I refilled the plastic bag with more water, only not as warm as the last time. This time I allowed the tap to run until the bag was distended, swollen with water. By the time I had re-lubricated the nozzle end, Justin had flushed the toilet and was leaning over the vanity again. As I moved into position, both hands grasped his butt cheeks to open his crack. For a moment, I was stunned. His hole had already started to dilate, the opening into his crimson-walled rectum more than a half-an-inch in diameter. I slid the plastic nozzle back into him using only the slightest pressure. His buttocks clenched, and to my amazement, pulled on the slippery tube with surprising strength. It was the same way he used his inner muscles to massage my penis. He had benefited in one way from spending twenty-four hours with four men. His hips oscillated as he worked his pelvis in circular thrusts, then back and forth in a distinctly sexual way.

"I think you're almost ready for a nice hard fuck," I laughed as I squeezed his small cheek. "But first I'm going to flush you right out."

Reaching up, I unclamped the clear tube attached to the underside of the swollen bladder. Other than Justin's moans and the slow contraction of the bag, there was no sign of what was happening. Slowly, the walls of the bag collapsed and finally contracted together as the draining fluid created a suction. During the last minute, Justin's moans had become increasingly distressed and he shifted uncomfortably. There was no way he could stop the flow of warm water. It spilled into him and stretched his lower intestine until his belly was as taut as a drum. He straightened up and winced, wrinkling his nose as his discomfort intensified.

"I bet you're feeling pretty full," I teased.

Justin nodded slightly and rolled his eyes in mock bad humor. "I ought to let it go over you this time," he said plaintively. "This is no way to have fun."

He waddled towards the toilet, clamping his buttocks together with one hand and keeping his knees close. Release was only seconds away if he did not maintain control. I was tempted to tickle him. The idea of Justin squirting the contents of his bowels all over Martin's bathroom was very inviting.

However, before I could suggest it, Justin dropped down onto the toilet seat and the water gushed out him like a high-pressure pipe had burst. He smiled wryly, glancing down between his slender thighs as the last of it dribbled out and splashed into the murky water in the once-white porcelain bowl.

"It's not so messy this time," he acknowledged quietly. He had been emptied, and not just physically.

"Most of it came out last time," I said. "You ready to get cleaned up?"

He nodded weakly and I lifted his arms to help him up. Standing before him, still holding his arms, I was very aware of his diminutive size. The top of his head was still inches below my breast. His arms were thin, smooth, and very soft. He looked every bit of his age of barely ten years. Gently, I hugged him closer and he pushed into me, burrowing his head under my arm. I smiled and pulled the towel from the once-chromed, now-rusted rail on the back of the door. It was Martin's towel and without thinking, I used it to wipe the splattered stains from Justin's bottom, dabbing into his K-Y-smeared crack while I lovingly rubbed my other hand over his bare back. I was amused to see dirty-brown streaks and spots on the towel when I had finished.

"Now what?" Justin asked anxiously as I dropped the towel to the floor.

"Now bend over."

"Not again," he whined. "I don't want to do it again."

"No more enemas, I promise."You're clean."

I picked out a partially used tube of lubricant from the cabinet above the vanity. Familiar only with K-Y, the tube of Anal-Ease was inspiring. Even the name, especially the name, conveyed what I was looking for. Justin looked over his shoulder and rewarded me with a silly smirk.

"I wonder if this stuff is any good?" I teased as I studied the label.

He grinned, not answering. He watched with what could only be called apprehensive curiosity as I removed the cap. I squeezed out a bead that was at least several inches long onto on my first finger. I turned my extended finger, and then used my thumb to lightly rub some of the glistening gel over my fingertip.

"Spread 'em wide, boy," I said gruffly. "And let's see what you're hiding back here."

Justin giggled, shamelessly opening his crack for my inspection. "What a nice little hole," I admired teasingly.

I placed my hand over his, cupping his right cheek and giving it a loving, yet possessive squeeze.

"I know what it needs… It needs this."

"Uhahhhhohhhh!" Justin moaned when my finger darted forward and reached all the way into his rectum.

"This is exactly what you need!"

"Shit!" he croaked.

"Not this time. You're clean as a whistle."

"OhhhhGod!"

"You like this huh?" I queried softly as my finger burrowed pulled back and then deeper and deeper.

"Hell! Yes!"

"You're tight!"

"Uh… argh… oh, OH!"

"Stop squealing."

"Push it all the way in!" Martin laughed form the hallway. "I know what he likes to start off with. This little fuck boy likes nothing more than to have a finger all the way up his chute. A few minutes of it and he'll be ready for the real thing."

"He's ready when I say he is," I said hotly.

I twisted my finger around and levered upward into Justin's spine, then down into the soft tissue surrounding his bladder. He jumped, arching his spine and grasping my finger with his suddenly and quite surprisingly powerful anal muscle. I allowed him a few seconds to get used to the added mass and then began to rub the area where his prostate was located. He gasped, pushing back, then jerking away to increase the pressure. His anus pulled aggressively at my finger, dragging it deeper into him. His body continued to be tormented by small brief spasms, twitching and shuddering as waves of delight flooded through him.

"He's a fucking horny little rugrat isn't he?" Martin taunted. "He wants his ass fucked so bad. He wants it so fucking bad he can't stand it. He wants his daddy's cock stuffed all the way up his hiney."

Justin's response was to grunt and shove back at me, squeezing as hard as he could.

"You're not wrong, Martin," I laughed as I played along. "From the feel of it he's almost ready for a man-cock in his tight little boy-pussy."

"Good. They ought to be here in about a half hour or so. Why don't you get our little fuck-boy on his back for a while so he's used to it when they arrive?"

"Good idea," I laughed.

I glanced at Justin with curiosity to see how he was taking it. He smiled back at me, completely at ease with what I was doing to his anus.

"If I was you, I'd use the Anal-Ease on your dick too," Martin smirked. "After all, there's no point in rushing through the best part."

"Huh?"

"Anal-Ease takes the edge of both of you. You'll take longer to cum, and he'll still feel it. The only downside is he won't get off as often."

"Sounds good to me. What else have you got in here?" I replied as I scavenged though the cabinet.

"The best stuff is the bedroom."

"You got any kid-sized cock rings?"

"Yeah, there's a few in the bedroom. I've still got a key-ring that ought to be small enough for him."

I nodded, yanking my finger out of Justin's heat. I felt his sphincter tighten, his buttocks clenching resolutely, yet not strong enough to stop either determined entry or exit. He gasped through gritted teeth and glared at me with an expression somewhere between pouting and anger.

With my hand on his small shoulder, I guided Justin out of the bathroom and past Martin. I could sense the man's arousal, the intense hunger in his eyes as he feasted on Justin's smooth nakedness. A few paces down the narrow hall, we entered the bedroom. Although the bed linen appeared clean, the room smelled stale, the lingering odor of sweat and what I thought was feces. From the smell alone it was easy to imagine writhing bodies performing sex acts that defied description.

I recognized the surroundings from the video tape, noting the same yellow flower-patterned sheets over the plastic-covered mattress and the white pillows. A video camera was attached to a tripod, with several high powered shop-lights on a crudely fabricated wood stand nearby. Centered on the bed was a patriotic red-white-blue beach towel. The last time I had seen that towel it was underneath Justin's blood-smeared buttocks. I swallowed and took a deep breath, still keeping my hand on Justin's shoulder to reassure him.

"Get on the bed, boy," I commanded.

He sat down, turning back to look at Martin. The man was framed in the doorway, grinning crudely.

"You're going to video-tape me again?" Justin asked.

"If your old man doesn't mind," Martin answered. "What about it? Do you want to watch your boy get fucked on the tv later on?"

"Damned right," I said. "It's not every day a boy gets his ass fucked by five men, is it?"

For a moment Justin regarded me. The look was both wanton and fearful. I stared back at him, eyes narrowed, casually stroking my engorged penis through my jeans. There was no doubt in my mind that he was excited by the prospect, even though he knew it would not happen. After all he had been through, he was experiencing the same cruel thrill that had brought him to Martin's trailer the first time. Nothing could change that part of him. He was drawn to depravity, seeking sexual pleasure that was the antithesis of his youthful perfection. Martin had recognized his need in the mall toilets. If I had not been blind, I would have realized the boy's needs as well.

Even Justin's breathing announced his desire as clearly as if he had spoken it aloud. He breathed quickly and deeply, his nostrils flaring wide when he inhaled, then narrowing as if smelling the scent of drug-induced ecstasy. The realization swept through me. I would love him no matter what. Then love turned to anger. My anger would never go away, not after what they had done to him. Still holding Justin's eyes captive, I unfastened my belt and opened the zipper. I pushed my jeans and briefs down a few inches, enough to release my raging erection from its confinement. Martin laughed as he saw my penis come into view.

"It looks like you've already joined the club, I see," he laughed.

"Huh?"

"The Hairless Club. I like a shaved crotch nearly as much as one like his," he added, gesturing towards Justin. "I've found a lot of boys like 'em too. Your son included. My friends are all shaved as well. It makes a guy's dick look bigger, I think."

I glanced down, confirming for myself that my pubic area was devoid of hair. I ignored him, but I was very conscious why I had taken the razor to my groin.

A single pace brought me within arm's reach of Justin. Hesitantly, he reached out, fingers nervously extended. Brushing along the length of my penis, his fingers cradled the tip, smearing the silver-slick excretion until his fingers were slippery with it. Then down the smooth shaft, closing his small thin fingers until his hand was tight, pumping slowly against the loose skin. Automatically, my hands reached around his tousled head, clasping his silky hair, his delicate ears, drawing him forward and onto it. His mouth opened and slipped down over my glans. So hot and wet, absorbing the softness of his mouth, the band of his wide-stretched lips, the sponginess of his embracing tongue. And he sucked, sucked for all he was worth, pulling my rigid penis deeper and deeper until he should have choked.

Four men had taught him well, this trick of deep-throating, of plunging onto a man's penis until the head reached down to his tonsils, of staying there until he needed to breath. Justin slurped noisily, working his tongue back and forth within the small space that remained between his cheeks and the huge organ that was buried in his mouth. I held him tightly, straining hard, forcing even more through his lips, until my testicles were crushed against his chin and I felt his throat gripping my glans. I eased him back, guiding his head until I could see his face again. Justin smiled up at me. His lips were wet, a trickle of saliva on his cheek. His eyes sparkled.

"Great little cocksucker, isn't he?" Martin crowed from behind me.

"He's fucking incredible."

"It doesn't matter what end he takes it either. That boy of yours just loves man-cock. You can fuck him or let him suck you and he always comes back for more. He can't get enough of it."

Still smiling, Justin kept silent. He was not about to deny what we both knew to be the truth. Then slowly, deliberately, he licked his lips, leaving no doubt that he had enjoyed what he had just done and wouldn't have minded doing it again. However, his mind was on other matters.

He laid back and his slender legs gradually lifted up until his ankles were. and he watched me from between his ankles. His anus was gaping open, the rim slightly reddened and set within a circle of darker skin. He half-closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring with each slow deep breath as he willed his body to relax. I closed the distance between us and nudged against his open anus. There was no pain. His smile fleeted, his face showing a momentary tension until my penis slipped into his body.

He was hot, enveloping my engorged flesh with his soft lubricity. With very little effort, I found myself sinking deeper and deeper. His eyes closed completely when I bottomed out, his rectum binding around my penis, pulling with deliberate snatches like a grasping hand. The weeks of exercising his sphincter had brought a dividend that the therapists were totally unaware of. He pulled me into him, bathing my swollen organ with his mushy tube, then impatiently squeezing with firm strength enough to make me groan aloud. Caught up in his own world amid overpowering sensations, Justin moaned softly.

Behind me, I heard Martin laughing, his words unforgettable.

"Fuck me daddy."

Then in my ear, I heard the same words whispered. Endearing, pleading, full of tomented passion. Justin was begging me. I eased away, withdrawing until I was nearly out. Then ploughing back, quick and deep, fucking into his slim, smooth body hard enough to force the air from his lungs. Underneath me I could feel him trembling, squirming, giving way to overwhelming pleasure. For an instant I thought he was trying to escape, yet reason prevailed. I felt my engorged penis becoming even stiffer. I heard the wet suctioning sound that was already familiar to me. I pushed harder, deeper, forcing his butt cheeks wide apart with the hard wedge of my penis, listening to his groans of encouragement. When he gasped and shuddered, I knew I could go no further.

Justin moaned deliriously. I had been deep before, but never like this, never so far inside him that I felt his buttocks squeezing my testicles. His body was tight, like a glove, like a rubber tube, alive and always squeezing. And there was the smell. The raw primal odor of the earth, slightly sweet, slightly musty, not rank. It was the aphrodisiac that I needed to overcome my inhibitions before another man.

"Feel my cock, Fag-boy," I grunted. "I'm so far up your ass it's pushing into your stomach."

"Uhaaooooo," Justin breathed. He quaked and I rammed down hard with all my strength against his buttocks. "God!" he grunted.

"It hurts, doesn't it? But I can tell you really love it. You love having your dad's cock deep in your boy-pussy. You want him to deep-dick you, don't you?" Martin snarled.

"Yyyyeeessss."

"And to think I'm just getting you warmed up," I taunted.

"You've got four more to come after he's done, fuck-boy. By the time we've finished with you," Martin growled, "you won't be able to hold in your farts."

Martin backed away, watching with interest as I pumped. There was no other word to describe it. My penis pounded back and forth, sucking loudly on the outward stroke from the lubricant that oozed from his now-gaping orifice. Each powerful thrust brought us both closer to the looming precipice of orgasm. While the immediacy of it was cause for dismay, I could no more stop myself than jump off a cliff.

Every few seconds I looked down at Justin, very aware that for almost any other ten-year-old boy I would be causing him terrible agony. However, the expression on Justin's face was reassuring. Strangely content, lips apart, eyes closed to mere slits. Enigmatic, accepting, concentrating on the incredible pleasure, denying the possibility of pain from my brutal plunges. A minute passed, and then another. His breathing became erratic, short gasps from his heaving chest, his head tossing from side to side as if he wanted to lose consciousness. Always fucking, always sliding that long hard shaft of flesh within his tightly stretched tube, always squeezing. It was relentless with a motion that came naturally, a rhythm that had existed since neolithic times when men escorted boys into the dark recesses of caves and did what they could not do with women.

The heat built within us until we were both wet with perspiration. Without warning Justin reached the pinnacle. There was always a peak that seemed as if it was only another thrust away, and then he would tumble into an abyss. His mouth open wide, making an animal-like sound from deep in his chest. His fingernails rasped my flanks and his teeth scraped my shoulders. I felt him stiffen, clamping his rectum around my aching penis, gurgling, grunting, still fucking until the last of the spasms had faded.

'One', I counted to myself. Triumphantly, I slowed my pace to gentle stabbing in his suddenly slackened bowels. All resistance had vanished. I wanted to kiss him, to tell him how much I loved him, but this was neither the time nor the place. In my haze of lust I remembered reading stories on the Internet, of men having anal sex with young boys, of the constant reference to the man's penis as an 'invader'. How inappropriate! This was no invasion. Possession, yes! A sense of ownership, of belonging together, and strange though it might seem, even of protecting him from a world that wanted to do him harm. In a way, I owed it all Martin and his friends. They had done what I could not have done by myself. I loved Justin too much to run the risk of losing him. There was no way that I could inflict the injury that necessarily came from a man's 'invasion' of a young boy's virgin body.

Vaguely, I was aware of Martin moving towards the open door, his taunting voice that would not let the boy bask in the glow of his orgasm. He could go without calling Justin a 'fag-boy' one more time. Martin had one more phone call to make and he would be right back to have his turn at Justin's 'boy-pussy'.

As soon as he was gone, I stopped moving. Slowly, Justin's eyes opened and he smiled.

"You feel so good," he whispered.

"So do you."

"Don't take him out. You haven't come yet," he announced.

"How do you know? If feels pretty sloppy in there."

"I didn't feel you squirt. And besides, you didn't go all weird."

"Weird?"

"You get a funny look and you kinda go crazy."

"Ah, the joys of climax," I smiled. "You'll have to wait until next time."

I eased away, dragging my very erect penis back a few inches, feeling Justin's efforts to hold me inside him. But those desperate squeezes were in vain. He could no more stop me than I could stop what I was going to do. He gave me an exasperated look as my penis came free of its hot, slimy-wet abode. Absently, I looked down. The boy's hole was now wide open. Like my penis and the surrounding smooth-shaven skin, it glistened with a sheen of oily paste. The opening was stretched, revealing the red lining of his rectum. I paused above my boy, lingering, still wanting to ejaculate my seed into his body and strengthen the bond that now existed between us. Instead I leaned down and lightly kissed his lips.

"When he comes back, tell him I had to go to the bathroom," I said softly.

Justin nodded. As I climbed off the bed, his fingers reached behind him. He absently stroked his dilated anus, trailing through the greasy fluid that had accumulated between his cheeks.

"You felt good," he said softly. "I love you."

"It's mutual. I love you too," I returned. I started towards the door. "I won't let them hurt you again."

"I know that. You'd better get ready. He could come back in here any moment."

All done, it had been much easier than one could ever expect. At the time, I was frightened. I was very aware that I had exposed Justin to danger with the sole purpose of getting revenge.

I waited in the bathroom with the door closed until I heard Martin's footsteps returning to the bedroom. Their voices were muffled through the thin walls, yet I heard enough to know what was happening.

"Where's your old man?"

"…bathroom… God!"

"… you forgot how big it was?"

"… fuck me… I want… so bad…"

I heard the sound of the bed springs. Martin was sitting down. I breathed out and counted off the seconds.

"Lie on your belly… Get your ass up higher… fuck you… fag-boy."

"… don't want…"

At that point my hands were clenched tightly and I was unable to stop myself. I hurried from the bathroom, back into the small living room where we had watched the video of Justin's deflowering. My briefcase was where I had left it. Quickly I opened it and retrieved the knife. I held it in my hand, feeling the balance of cold steel and carved bone. It was a Bowie knife and somewhat melodramatic, but it would be more than adequate to get Martin's attention. I walked quickly back to the bedroom where Justin was.

"No… stop it!"

"You know you want it. You want me in your ass."

"I don't! Get the hell off me!"

"You want me to fuck you."

"Go fuck yourself!"

I rounded the corner and stopped in my tracks. Martin was almost nude. His jeans were around his ankles and he was kneeling over Justin's body, trying to keep the boy in position long enough to penetrate him. It was clear that Justin wanted no part of him, especially that part that extended out from Martin's hairless crotch. His legs flailed out, then his arms as he tried to land a punch, difficult enough lying on his belly. Martin laughed at the boy's feeble efforts to dislodge him. he pushed Justin's head back into the pillow savagely and gripped the boy's arm close to the shoulder to hold him still. He lifted up and started to guide his huge, blunt-ended penis forward again.

I stepped closer, aware that Justin could see me, hoping that he did not give the game away. Surprise was essential. Surely Martin could hear my heart pounding. Justin's eyes were wide open. I could see the fear in his eyes, fear that came from his impending rape, and fear that the knife lifted high in the air was going to be used to kill Martin.

The pointed blade stopped a few inches to the left side of Martin's spine. I was shaking, wondering where my will had vanished to. I wanted to kill the man, yet I could not do it in cold blood. Martin grunted and momentarily interrupted his attempt to sodomize Justin. He glanced to his side, saw me there, started to smirk knowingly. He still pointed his rampart sex between the boy's buttocks. One hand had parted Justin's small cheeks and directed his penis to its target.

"Tell the little fucker to lie still," he growled menacingly. "Or I going to fucking cum on his back."

Then, Martin looked up. He saw my arm extended, the knife clasped in my hand.

"Jesus! What the fuck."

"GET OFF HIM!" I bellowed.

I pricked him, not deeply, just far enough to draw pain and blood. He screamed. The impulse to ram the knife in further swept over me. It was only Justin's frantically shaking head that stopped me from doing it.

"Get off him," I repeated.

Suddenly my storm of anger had dissipated into a calm of reason. Martin crawled off Justin, his thick veiny penis bobbing in frustration. He glared at me, reaching to his side, discovering the trickle of blood. His eyes were panicked. Instantly, Justin jerked away. He drew his legs up close and huddled in the distant corner of the bed. Like me, like Martin, he was trembling.

"Put the fucking knife down," Martin demanded.

I shook my head. "Now you lie face down like my boy just was, asshole. Put your hands behind your back."

It was a relatively simple matter to bind his hands with a length of the nylon cord. I twisted him onto his back and he winced when he put his weight on his arms. Another length secured both of his feet to the metal bed frame. I stood up and surveyed my handiwork. It was hard not to smile as I looked at the man. His erection had wilted. The large limp appendage flopped uselessly against his pale smooth crotch. However, it was not amusing to think that the man had taken Justin's virginity with it. Momentarily, I considered cutting the damned thing off with the knife. Tied up the way he was, he would soon bleed to death. Suppressing the thought, I quickly walked from the bedroom to the living room and picked up Justin's clothing from the couch and floor. When I returned to the bedroom, Justin had not moved.

"Get dressed, Justin," I said, holding out his clothes.

He looked at me fearfully. For an instant I remembered how he had been in the Recovery Room. The doctor called it 'post-traumatic shock'. My breathing slowly began to return to normal, but my brain was till churning.

"They could be here any minute and I want you out of here well before then."

"No!" His voice was resolute. "I'm staying here with you."

"Why fag-boy? Haven't you had enough?"

Justin glared at Martin. He started to put his clothes on. He said nothing.

"Are you worried your old man is going to fuck me, fag boy?" Martin chided. "Are you jealous it's not your ass?"

Justin glanced at me sideways and I smiled and shrugged. Despite his predicament, Martin was still trying to torment him. The man knew that he would probably die within the hour, and he still persisted in his cruel jibes.

"He's exactly like you, fag-boy. Your father doesn't have the balls for it," he laughed crudely. "He's a fag, just like you are."

"Don't pay any attention to him," I said firmly.

"Hey, fag-boy, you're missing the opportunity of a lifetime," Martin taunted as Justin slide his thin arms through his tee shirt. "Why don't you climb on top of me and ride this horse-cock of mine again, just for old times sake. It was the first one in your ass. It might as well be the last."

"What do mean, the last?"

Martin's mouth turned down, then he spit towards me. He missed. I regarded him with increasing distaste.

"My friends will be here soon. You really think your father going to be able to stop all three of them?"

"Yes," I answered without pause.

I began rifling through the night stand beside the bed. There was nothing in the top drawer except sex aids. I pushed condoms, lubricants, dildoes, butt plugs, even a small leather harness to the side as I looked. I closed the drawer, then on second thought, opened it and took out the harness and a butt plug that was designed to fit into an opening in the rear straps. It would be interesting to take it with us on the camping trip. Then I moved to the second drawer.

"What are you looking for?" Martin demanded.

"This," I said, pulling out the 38 caliber handgun. It was an old Smith and Wesson. "I think I'll be able to stop all three of your friends now, don't you?"

I continued my search. In the rear of the second drawer were several envelops and as many as twenty magazines. The cover pictures and titles left no doubt about their content. I opened one envelop and extracted a sheaf of prints that had been made on a computer printer. They were photographs of a boy, not Justin. He was about twelve years old. I swallowed, feeling rage build up inside me as I flipped through the stack of paper.

"How could you?" I said angrily as I stopped and stared at one image. "You bastard!"

Martin laughed. "That little boy wanted it even more than your kid did. He only got what he wanted. We ought have it done to your kid as well. I bet he would get off on it."

"You… you perverted monster," I said, shaking my head.

"Am I?" Martin grinned. "Why don't you ask him? I bet he'd be interested."

"Asshole!"

"What are you afraid of? Are you afraid he'll say yes?"

I stuffed the prints back into the envelop. My hands were shaking. Someone, probably Martin or one of his friends, had pushed safety pins through the boy's scrotum and penis. There may have been as many as six of them. The following picture was of the boy's body, from head to knees. He was delirious with pain, yet he was also incredibly aroused. The skin was pulled tight on his penis. There was a glistening wet trickle from the tip of his penis to a small milky puddle on his belly. I shook my head, trying to deny the thrill I felt without much success.

There were pictures of Justin in the second envelop. I breathed heavily as I surveyed the evidence. After watching part of the video, I should have been prepared for what I saw, but I was still shocked. Pictures of Justin's slender body lying on the bed, pictures of men's penises penetrating from a small bloody anus, pictures of his shrivelled penis, pictures of his purple-grey sex organs after the cock ring had been applied.

"If you know where to look, you can find most of them on the Internet," Martin said. "I'd say thousands of men have gotten off by now looking at that boy of yours."

"You said you wouldn't," Justin snapped. "You said you'd keep them for yourself, if I didn't tell. And I didn't."

"They were too good not to share. You don't see pics of a boy losing his virginity very often. " Martin glared back at me. "But you told your father didn't you, fag-boy? You told him how to find me."

I fingered the prints, trying to decide what to do. That they would make Justin's mistake public had not entered my mind. Slowly, I realized that none of the prints I held in my hand showed his face. There was no way he could be recognized. For a moment I considered destroying the pictures right then. In a way they were special, for they were pictures of Justin's first time with a man, however disturbing they might have been to me.

I shoved the pictures back into the envelop just as I heard the front door open. I gestured to Justin to move out of sight. He was frozen, fear in his face. Martin was about to shout a warning. I pointed the gun at him, directly at his chest. Then I lowered it, until it was only a few inches from his huge genitals. He got the message. I heard voices approaching the room and I darted behind the door, aware that Justin, still nude from the waist down, was standing beside the bed and in clear view.

"Hi fag-boy?" someone laughed. "I see you got Marty all tied up?"

"Hey Marty, I didn't know you were into bondage. S and M yeah, with the dick rings and all, but ropes too?"

The first man stepped through the doorway. A few paces took him to the bed and he chuckled as one of the others came up beside him.

"Didn't think I would see you again," one of them said to Justin. "You've got the best ass I've ever had the pleasure of fucking. It was a damned pity that Pete got your hole stretched out so far."

"Fuck you, Terry," Pete returned. "He sure was tight, even after you guys had been up there first." He grabbed his crotch and squeezed meaningfully. "You want some more, fag-boy? Who of us do you want first?"

I stepped out from behind the door and levelled the gun. "It's a good question. Why don't you tell me who's going first?"

"Fuck!"

"Who in the fucking hell are you?"

"He's my…" Justin answered bravely.

"I'm your worst nightmare," I interrupted. "My advice is to do exactly what I say. Don't do it, and… well I'm sure you get the idea. Now Pete, you're going to go first. You're going to fuck Marty. And Terry, when Pete's done fucking, you're going to lick the shit of his dick, just like you made Justin."

"Fuck you!" Terry said vehemently.

I raised an eyebrow. "No, I don't think so. You don't want to suck some shit? Well, maybe you can just tie your friend Pete up. Good and tight, too. There's some rope on the other side of the bed." I took a deep breath. "Pete, if I was you, I would lie down next to Marty. I'd move real slow as well, because I'm just dying to put a bullet in your brain."

A few minutes later both men were secured. I checked the knots carefully. They would remain tight no matter how hard they struggled. Finally, I relaxed.

"What are you going to do to us?" Terry asked. I could hear the fear in his voice. I didn't answer.

"Dad?" Justin said softly. "What are you going to do to them?"

"Honestly, Honey, I'm not sure. I ought to kill them for what they did to you."

"Maybe we should just call the police," Justin suggested.

I shook my head, understanding what he was afraid of. They deserved to die, but if I murdered them in cold blood, there was a chance that I could be sent to jail. Now that I had Justin as my lover, the last thing I wanted was to be sent to prison. I breathed out and smiled. As for the police, making Justin give evidence against them was also low on my priority list. I wanted vengeance, and vengeance I would have.

The last man arrived about ten minutes later. He hurried into the trailer, not expecting to be intercepted by a stranger with a gun. I took him into the bedroom and tied him up. There was very little room left on the bed.

I smiled weakly at my four captives. For the last two weeks I had fantasized about what I would do to them. I had harbored ideas about inflicting pain, about cutting their genitals off and watching them bleed to death, even making them have intercourse. Yet, to do so would make me no different to them. No matter what I did to them, I still couldn't give back to Justin what they had taken from him. The boy followed me with his eyes. He had a subdued, yet worried expression. His silence suggested he was resigned to whatever I would choose to do.

"Okay," I said at last. "It's time to pack up here."

I made a last check around the bedroom and living room to make sure that I had picked up everything that could identify me or Justin. Only a single envelope and a collection of foreign videos and magazines would remain, yet they would provide enough evidence.

"What are you going to do?"

I glanced at the nervous boy. "We'll call the police and let them handle it after we're long gone from here. I want you to go outside."

It was the truth, but only part of the truth. I would call the police.

"Are you going to shoot them?"

I shook my head and opened the door for him. "I'm going to make one last check, Justin," I answered. "I don't want them escaping before the police get here."

I lit a candle and placed it on the table, then after a moment's thought relocated it to the top of the refrigerator. It took less than a minute to detach the gas line from the back of the range. Within seconds I could smell the distinctive odor of Propane gas. The smell disappeared as soon as I stood up. I went back into the bedroom. All four men looked at me expectantly. I smiled, placed the gun back in the nightstand, and backed out of the room, leaving the door wide open. They would eventually start smelling the gas and call for help, but no one would hear them, just as no one had heard Justin screaming in pain.

We were in the Park for about five minutes when Martin's trailer blew up. Miles away, and the explosion was still quite noticeable. Three-hundred gallons [1100 liter] of Propane gas exploded with a loud bang.

"What was that?" Justin asked as we strolled down Main Street towards the castle that dominated the landscape.

"No idea," I lied. "Maybe a jet breaking the sound barrier. There must be an air force base around here somewhere."

We continued to walk, hand in hand. Although appearing to be a father and son enjoying a day at the park, we were an unusual couple in some respects. His punk-style hair drew attention to us, and frequently I gave curious onlookers a glance that said 'fuck you'. One man, well-dressed and foreign, gave him a look that was more interested than the others. I hugged Justin to me and caressed his shoulder. For a few moments our eyes met. The man was like me. I smiled and squeezed Justin's small shoulder to show the man that the boy was mine.

Justin was quiet for nearly a minute after the stranger returned my smile.

"I'm glad we left them tied up. I was afraid you'd kill them, Dad. And if you did, then you'd be arrested."

I grinned down at the boy beside me. "Who me?"

"Yes you!" Justin said with a grin.

I shrugged. Perhaps when he was older I would tell him what happened after I sent him outside the trailer. Then again, there were some things he was better off not knowing. When I got right down to it, the only thing I wanted Justin to know was how much I loved him.

The Beginning. June 28th, 2000