Chapter 1
A Stranger Under My Roof

The day my son Dimitri was physically and sexually assaulted and disappeared was the darkest day of my life, and I thought there would never be a day darker. I was wrong. The darkest day of my life was not the day my son was kidnapped and taken from me, but was, God help me, the day that he was returned to me.

I kept a calendar hidden in a drawer in my workroom where I kept the operational manuals for my power tools so my wife would not see it. Each night before retiring I would pretend to go to check that the backdoor was locked, take the calendar out and cross off the day. I would then head off to bed, change into my pyjamas, remove the crucifix I've worn about my neck since my fourteenth birthday, kiss it as I offered up a silent prayer, and crawl into bed and kiss my wife goodnight. It was a ritual, one which I followed religiously seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year no matter what day it was, a workday, a weekend, or a special holiday. Eight years and four months to the day after our son Dimitri had disappeared, the day he and his best buddy had been kidnapped while having a sleep-over at his best buddy's home, we received the phone call I had been praying for and steadfastly believed we would receive despite the advice of all others to let go.

"Mr. Savalos?"

"Yes."

"Aristotle Savalos?"

"That is correct."

"Your wife is Hellena Savalos?"

"What is this about?"

"This is Sergeant Kao of the Calgary City Police Department. A squad car will be arriving at your home in a few minutes. We have your son Dimitri in custody."

"My son? In custody?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Is he all right?"

"The officers will explain in person when they get there."

"He's all right," I persisted. "He's alive."

"Yes, sir, he is alive."

The officers arrived a few minutes later as promised, a young man and a young woman. They looked too young to be police officers. They informed my wife and me that the Vancouver city police in conjunction with an international police task force had made a kiddy porn bust and had found my son posing naked with several six-year-old boys. Discovering there was an open missing persons file and an unresolved kidnapping charge regarding him, he had been returned to Calgary. Eight years and four months later. I stared at the two young officers in disbelief as tears of relief and joy flowed down my cheeks. My prayers had finally been answered and our nightmare was finally over. Our son had returned. I did not know then of course, but actually, our nightmare was just beginning. Learning that he had been found at last was a shock, but not as much of a shock as what I was told next. As a result of their investigation, the Vancouver police wanted to charge Dimitri with the very crimes that had been committed against him, kidnapping, indecent assault on minors, and production and distribution of kiddy pornography. I could not believe it.

Having spent every penny of our savings in my search for him, an ordeal that I would want no parent to go through but which I was to find out was nothing compared to the ordeal I was yet to experience, I took out a second mortgage on our home and hired a lawyer, an expensive one but a good one, (all good lawyers are expensive) who got the charges against Dimitri dismissed on the basis that he himself was a victim and anything he had done had been the result of that victimization. The proviso that he would report weekly to a probation officer and would stay away from schools, pools, playgrounds, and anywhere else that children might gather with a review every four months until it was determined that he was not a threat to public safety was a reasonable one. A month after having been transferred to Calgary, he was released and allowed to come home. Those thirty days seemed like forever for Hellena and me, but in the legal world it was remarkably fast. The speedy resolution was in part because of our lawyer, and to a larger part due to the public outcry, particularly from the Catholic community, that a boy who had been a victim of the sickest crimes imaginable was now being treated like a criminal. The social media can be a very powerful force, for the cause of good and, as I already knew, for the cause of evil.

Hellena wanted a large party with a huge feast as only the Greeks know how to put on, complete with balloons and dancing and music like they play in the old country with all our relatives and all Dimitri's former friends to welcome Dimitri back home, but I convinced her to wait. After more than eight years away, his return was going to be a huge adjustment for him, and for us. I am glad now that I did. The individual who stepped into our home was not the one who had left eight years ago. Our son had left a boy and returned a man. He had been a hundred and fifty-seven centimetres [5'2"] and fifty kilos [110 lbs] when he had left with smooth, unshaven cheeks, the silky beginnings of a moustache and fine dark adolescent hair on his shins and calves. The person standing in front of me was a hundred and seventy-eight centimetres [5'10"], taller than myself, and seventy-five kilos [165 lbs], with a five-o'clock shadow darkening his cheeks, chin and upper lip, long, black hair covering his legs and forearms, and a dense mat of chest hair. He had left a boy of 14 and four months, and had returned a man 22 and eight months old. It was more than his physical appearance that had changed though. That was to be expected. There was something else, something frightening. There was a look in his eyes, a vacant, detached look that struck me as being the eyes of a dead man.

Having been born in Greece and having immigrated to Canada shortly after our marriage, my wife and I brought with us what others call old world values and customs and we raised our new family according to them. That included among other things having close family ties and openly and physically expressing our emotions. Like all adolescent boys, Dimitri had been embarrassed by his mother's public displays of affection, but inside I knew he took pleasure and comfort in her embraces and kisses. As Hellena wrapped her arms about this tall, dark stranger and gave him a motherly buss on the cheek, he tensed, not just uncomfortable but obviously repulsed by her actions, and there was an emptiness and coldness in his eyes while being embraced by the one who had given him birth that chilled me to the bone. I knew all too well the physical and sexual abuse he'd suffered and could understand his revulsion to being touched, but this was his mother whom he had not seen for eight and a half years!

Although I wanted badly to embrace him myself, I restrained myself and shook his hand and placed a fatherly hand on his shoulder. The way he braced himself and the set of his lips made me want to cry, and to seek out those who had damaged him so and make them pay. Oh, he was cordial and pleasant, and he respectfully and obediently did whatever we asked of him, but from the day he stepped back into our home he was distant and unfeeling, a robot, a stranger among strangers. After being away from us most of his formative teenage years, I could understand his discomfort and reservation around us and I accepted it knowing it would take time for him to emerge from the protective wall he had built around himself, but I had a feeling that the man sitting across from me at the dinner table was far more damaged than he appeared and than anyone knew. His mother, as loving and gentle a soul as has ever walked this earth, was hurt by his cold response to her embraces and kisses and her words of comfort and support, but being of the quiet and God-fearing nature that she is, she said nothing and accepted her pain as one more cross God expected her to bear. It broke my heart to see her suffer so, but I knew to try to do anything about it would be futile and could cause Dimitri to retreat even further into his shell.

The first month was particularly difficult. For us he was still our little boy, our second youngest child, and it was difficult not to treat him as such. He was, however, a man, and could no longer be treated like he was fourteen. We had watched his brother Alexandros and his sisters, Maria, Sophia and Anna, grow up from infants to children and from teenagers to young adults, the three oldest with children of their own now, and we had modified our relationship with them gradually as they grew into adulthood. His younger brother Nikos was now sixteen and a half and almost an adult himself and we treated him accordingly. We had no such transition time with Dimitri.

Still, all in all things were good despite the tension. Dimitri spent much of that first month staying inside or sticking close to home. Part of the reason for that was because he was hiding from the media. Once the paparazzi found out he had been found, they swarmed down upon our home seeking interviews, and given the nature of his abuse, seeking any titillating gossip that they could report to sell their newspapers and magazines. Our requests to leave us alone were largely ignored and there was nothing we nor the police could do about it other than to hide.

The other reason Dimitri did not venture far was because he had no reason to leave the security of his home. His friends were now in institutions of further education or were working and many had moved away. After "how are you" and "what are you doing now" and "it's nice to see you again" there was not much for them to talk about. They certainly didn't have any common experiences or mutual interests that friends develop throughout their schooling. Dimitri had just begun his grade nine education and his friends of that time had now graduated from high school and many were in college. While his friends had been dating and going to school dances and engaging in high school sports and school clubs, Dimitri, well, Dimitri had suffered eight years and four months of abuse of the most perverse kind. Knowing that made it impossible for his friends to feel comfortable in his presence.

So Dimitri sat in his bedroom night after night with the lights off, or occasionally in the family room watching television with his mother and me. On those occasions, I could not help but glance over at this young man who had returned to be part of my life, and I could not help thinking back to what his life had been like these past eight plus years. Shortly after Dimitri had been kidnapped, I had learned he'd been brutally raped along with his best friend and forced to commit lewd acts that no decent human could ever imagine, in front of and at times with the policeman who should have been protecting him, and all because of the policeman, in retribution for him seeking out child abusers and kiddy porn producers and locking them up. It would have been easy to blame him for what had happened to Dimitri, but I could not. He himself had lost his own son, and he was still missing to this day.

Several months after Dimitri's disappearance I watched a copy of the live cam that had been broadcast that night of his capture and uncovered by the police in their investigation. It showed a self-conscious fourteen-year-old boy blushing with embarrassment as he confessed under duress to masturbating once or twice a day, and then showed him engaging in oral sex with his friend Dany, also fourteen at the time, being finger fucked by his buddy and by a big black man and a greasy looking Paki, being raped by both men and his buddy's father besides, and being forced to suck up his own cum, most of the time being bound ankle to wrist. I cannot describe my shame and embarrassment and my anger seeing that video of my son. No father should have to see his son engaging in such filth. They were images I'd been warned against viewing and advised not to, but I had to see them with my own eyes to believe and to understand what he had gone through. They have been burned into my memory and are impossible to block out. I cannot begin to imagine how painful the memory of that night has to be for Dimitri.

As the days passed into weeks and the weeks into months following his disappearance, it became evident that the police were making no progress in finding him. So I began to do my own searching, which took me to the darkest, grimiest alleys and neighbourhoods of our city and the slums and disreputable neighbourhoods of other cities around the world as I followed one lead and then another. I talked to social workers and street preachers, criminals and prostitutes, and greasy-looking perverts that made my skin crawl, showing them the picture of my fourteen-year-old son, his grade nine entry school picture, dressed in his best clothes, his clean, smiling, handsome face full of joy and high expectations, and asking if they had seen him. I played on their sympathies, the heartbroken father searching for his missing son. When that did not work, I paid to have the picture photo shopped so it looked like he was exposing himself and played the role of a pervert, asking where I might find more pictures of him, where I could find him to take my own pictures, or do the things that I'd seen done to him.

I discovered that only two weeks after his disappearance a video and still pictures of Dimitri had appeared on the Internet. They depicted him in a kiddy porn video playing the role of a teenage Mexican farm worker being raped in an old, dilapidated barn and in a sugar beet field in southern Alberta by immigrant Mexican labourers who, missing their wives and girl friends left behind in Mexico, satisfied their sexual needs with Dimitri. It was not that difficult to imagine Dimitri in such a role given his olive-complexion and dark looks. From the looks on the faces of the men and on Dimitri's face, there was no doubt the rape was real. The rape could have been on any number of sugar beet farms and in any of a number of abandoned, decaying barns, there being no distinguishing characteristics visible in the video, and the men in the video, suspected of being itinerant, had already dispersed and could be anywhere, even back in Mexico. My inquiries were met with resistance and open hostility. Farmers did not want me wandering about their property and looking in their dilapidated buildings, fearing lawsuits should I be injured, or if I found any evidence it was the location of the video. The workers were suspicious of strangers and fearful of the police and would say nothing, and their leaders reclusive and uncooperative. To my surprise most could not even speak English and were illiterate in their native tongue, which I discovered was usually German or occasionally Mexican. To my surprise I learned their children were kept out of school to work in the beet fields. Child labour in my own backyard! The more I learned the more I was convinced that the pornographers had indeed bribed real life itinerant workers to take part in the rape, or perhaps had blackmailed them to do so.

Several months later another video and still photos appeared on the Internet with Dimitri this time playing the role of a horny teenage Mexican slut in a Mexican brothel being gang-banged by a dozen Gringo tourists, the men chosen having to be the roughest and ugliest men they could have possibly found. Experts at the crime lab said they were certain the video had really been shot in Mexico, so I headed to the hovels and cesspools of Mexico City where I was offered young Mexican boys for my pleasure and where at times I feared for my life, but if Dimitri had ever been there I found no evidence. A year later a video surfaced in which Dimitri starred as a peasant boy who being in the wrong place at the wrong time was drugged and raped in a marijuana field by Columbian drug dealers, and in desperation, I headed to Columbia where my life was in danger and where slimeballs promised me boys of any age but not my Dimitri.

Several months later still pictures and a video appeared on the Internet in which Dimitri was dressed in fine silks and veils as a member of an Arab harem and shown pleasing not just his master but his master's guests while they dined. The crime lab experts figured the pictures could have been taken in Pakistan, which given the nationality of his original abductor was highly possible, so against all advice I packed my bags and headed to Pakistan. With my own dark complexion and my Greek accent I was admitted to places where Westerners would not be permitted, and I discovered much to my nausea that boylove is a common practice in much of the country and if you knew the right people and the right places you could sit in the shade in the afternoon sipping tea while a preteen boy knelt under your robes and satisfied you orally.

I never found Dimitri nor anyone who had actually seen him in person, but I made contacts with the filth of the world in my role as a fellow pervert, and I maintained those contacts by exchanging sick pictures of naked young boys, which to my amazement are not that difficult to obtain and which thousands of men around the world trade like they were baseball cards, always hoping that eventually one of those contacts will give me a new lead. Just eight months ago one of those contacts traded me a video clip in which Dimitri, who appeared to be about nineteen, was shown sucking and being sucked by a cherubic blond boy with curly hair and then the boy laying on his back and spreading his legs and being penetrated anally. The authorities had warned me about engaging in such swapping, even threatened to take me to court, but I had friends in law enforcement who were just as sickened by the occurrence of child porn as I was and were willing to help on the sly.

On this latest video they said there was no evidence that Dimitri was drugged or being coerced to engage in these sick acts, and that the boy showed no signs of being drugged either nor of being an unwilling participant. From my contact with these pervs, I know all boy lovers claim that all boys are really horny sluts and participate in their sick pornographic videos because deep down they love sex, and that all boys, even at that tender, formative age of seven, have sexual desires and derive pleasure from sex. I don't believe a word of it, not for a moment. No matter what warped experiences my son has been forced to engage in, he would never do such a thing willingly or consciously, and no child that young could possibly have such desires.

Sickened by these perverted images, I persisted in my desperate search for my son with that belief and faith in my son's purity and innocence despite my discovery that there were hundreds, no, thousands, of people who paid to see such videos, and that there were real people who actually did these foul things, not just actors making porno videos for a few dollars, and that there were street kids who allowed themselves to be abused for money to satisfy their drug habit. I gradually saw my son transformed from a proud and defiant teenage boy being cruelly beaten into submission to a glassy-eyed, drugged monster forcing others to engage in the acts he himself had been forced to engage in. Through it all I came no closer to finding him. I cannot begin to describe how devastating and demoralizing finding such evidence of one's son's existence is for a father, but I would not give up.

Nor did Dimitri. Somehow he survived. He did even more than that. Despite engaging in unprotected sex with hundreds of men, many of them filthy, disreputable scum, he miraculously came out of it without contacting a single STD. And, though in some of the videos I had seen it was evident he had been drugged into submission in order to film him performing the perverse acts he was forced to engage in, he was not addicted and did not drink, do drugs, or even smoke. He was even more physically fit than most young men his age who had lived wholesome, decent lives. Emotionally, on the other hand, he had been numbed by his experiences and once an emotional, expressive boy, like his mother and myself and his siblings, he was now a detached, cold individual who showed no emotion whatsoever. He neither smiled nor frowned and his eyes revealed nothing. I could not imagine the mental anguish he had gone through and was going through now.

As part of the bargaining for his release, and for his own health, I arranged for him to meet weekly with a psychiatrist, one that came highly recommended for child victims. His brother and sisters loved him dearly and attempted to reach out to him of course, but despite having been close to each one of them prior to his kidnapping, he was as cold with them as he was with his mother and me and they each confided in me that he gave them the same impression that I had, that he was a dead man walking, and that they were uncomfortable in his presence. Still, I and his mother were not prepared to give up, and, God bless them, nor were they.

His brother, Alexandros, is five years older, having just turned nineteen and in his second year of trade school when Dimitri had been kidnapped and twenty-seven now. They had been very close and Dimitri had looked up to his older brother who had been a star athlete in high school and very popular. They especially enjoyed watching and playing football and spent many weekends tossing the pigskin in the nearby park and tackling each other. Although married and having a son of his own, my grandson Dominic Aris, and having his own fledgling construction company now, Alex routinely came over every Saturday since Dimitri's return and when the snows melted and it began to warm up encouraged Dimitri to go to the park to play football. Dimitri went, for as I said, he was a complacent individual who did not question nor object when asked to do things, but Alex sadly reported afterward that he went through the motions, and though he was physically very skilled, he showed no emotion for the game nor the time they spent together, and, in fact, cringed when they made any physical contact.

It was on one of those Saturdays, the last Saturday of March, two months after Dimitri's return, that Alex had come over for his routine game of football when he was called away to tend to some emergency at a construction site his company was working on. He normally brought his son along to visit with his grandmother and me and being by herself his wife took the opportunity to go shopping or tend to her own personal pursuits those Saturday afternoons. We told Alex to go ahead and not to worry about his son as we delighted in having him visit, and the boy took great pleasure in visiting with us. Domi was an intelligent, active child, and after playing with him for a couple hours, I found myself exhausted. Leaving him watching afternoon cartoons and under the watchful eye of his grandmother who was cooking up supper for Alex and his wife, who always joined us later in the day, I laid down for a moment and to my surprise fell asleep, waking up forty-five minutes later.

Discovering Domi was not in the living room watching television, which was still on, and finding he was not in the kitchen with his grandmother who did not realize he was no longer watching TV, I headed for Dimitri's room, assuming he was keeping the boy entertained. Although not exactly warm and welcoming, he did greet his three nephews with a touch more cordiality than he did his siblings and his friends. Domi was not a child who made strange with others, and he had that special childish charm that even one as cold as his uncle could not resist and Hellena and I and Alex actually encouraged the two to spend time together whenever Domi came over in the hope that the innocent child might break through the barrier we adults had been unable to breech.

We had left Dimitri's room untouched all the while he was gone, neither of us having the will to change it and both of us having faith that he would eventually return and things would carry on where they had left off. When he returned, he boxed all his belongings he had as a boy and said he would like to repaint his room. Of course we told him he could do whatever he wanted, expecting he would want to change things now he was an adult. We did not expect that he would paint his ceiling and two walls black, one wall a dark blue, and the fourth a dark burgundy. He decorated his room with posters which I was told were gothic images. Some I found were grotesque and disturbing and bordered on worship of the supernatural, but I was assured by his siblings that it was a popular trend with those his age these days and quite innocent so I bit my tongue and said nothing. The ceiling light he changed to a chandelier with a dimmer switch, which he normally kept at the lowest setting, and he set about the room incense burners and candle holders. We bought him a larger bed which he fitted with pale lavender sheets and a black velvet bed spread. It was all very foreign to us and atypical of the son we knew, and his new tastes certainly caused us some concern, but considering everything, it did not seem like an issue worth opposing.

As usual, his door was wide open. We had a long-standing policy in our home of not invading another's privacy, and of keeping no secrets from each other and hence the only door that was ever closed was that to the bathroom. Also as usual, for the new Dimitri, the room was in darkness with only a single scented candle burning. I was about to knock to announce my presence and for permission to enter, as was only proper considering he was an adult and it was his personal space, but not wishing to awake him in case he was napping as he often did since his return and particularly if Domi had joined him on this particular afternoon and was also napping, I stepped silently into the room.

My heart sank with dismay at the sight before me and I froze, uncertain what to say or do. The bedspread and top sheet had been pulled back, and much to my embarrassment lying there on his back was my twenty-two-year-old son, stripped naked, his head and shoulders propped up on his pillows. He was watching my grandson Domi who was also stark naked and sitting cross-legged on the bed beside him. Dimitri had an erection, close to twenty centimetres [8"] long and the shaft almost three fingers thick. My grandson was grasping it with his little fist. The child had an erection also, his penis about the length and thickness of my little finger. I had no idea a child that age could become erect. Dimitri was slowly stroking Domi's little penis, holding it between his thumb and first two fingers, while Domi pumped his fist up and down Dimitri's stiff member. My twenty-two-year-old son and my sweet, innocent grandson, his nephew! Engaged in that forbidden sin, that age-old, poorly kept secret.

As I stood there, Domi suddenly began jerking and twisting, thrusting his hips up and forward and drawing them back while at the same time gyrating his hips left and right as he bounced on the bed. He half moaned and half sighed, a combination of pain, pleasure and surprise. It was obvious what was happening. I had no idea a child still years away from his teens could have an orgasm. What had to be going on through his mind! From the look on his face, his eyes wide and mouth gaping open but the corners curved into a smile, he was obviously experiencing the same waves of pleasure rippling out from the centre of his groin and up his throbbing, blood-engorged little cocklet as older boys experiencing an orgasm, and that pleasure was obviously new and unexpected. What the poor child was thinking experiencing those adult feelings, feelings he should not be aware of never mind experiencing for at least another six years or more, I could not begin to imagine.

I was still standing there transfixed by shock and dismay when Dimitri suddenly arched his back and raised his hips off the bed, and throwing back his head and gasping and shuddering, he sighed with obvious pleasure as his semen began to spurt out of his monstrous penis, squirting high up into the air like a profane fountain and falling back to splat against his thick-haired leg and ooze down the inside of his right thigh. That first squirt was followed by a rapid volley of squirts which spattered his stomach and groin with thick slime while Domi, quivering with the mysterious sensation between his own legs, continued to grasp his uncle's spurting penis. As the force subsided, Dimitri's semen continued to gush out the opening of his erect penis and flow down over his glans and shaft and over Domi's fingers still grasping his uncle's throbbing organ by the base. Domi sat there now staring at his uncle's stiff, fountaining member in his right hand, his big brown eyes wide with surprise and his moist lips parted with wonder.

They were both totally focussed on their own and on each other's orgasm and had not noticed my presence. At last overcoming my initial shock, my first thought was to slip back out the door before I was seen and leave them to their privacy. There is nothing more private than engaging in sex with another person and a wave of guilt passed over me for having intruded on them, accompanied by a wave of shame for having witnessed it. That was quickly followed by a wave of revulsion and another of moral outrage. The church was clear: masturbation was a sin, and to engage in such perversion with another condemned. Even accepting that in today's immoral society such an act was no longer viewed with such condemnation, society had not become so perverted as to accept engaging in such an act between an adult and a child. My good God, he had engaged in this perversion with his nephew, and the boy was not even a third of his age! No decent man could walk away from such a discovery. I had to do or say something about this perverted and forbidden act I had caught them engaging in. Sudden rage built up inside me like a long-dead volcano come to life, replacing my shock and dismay. My blood surged through my veins and pounded in my ears, deafening me, and I opened my mouth to protest but was too overwrought to speak.

Dimitri and Domi slowly came out of the stupor of their orgasms, and they slowly became aware of my presence in the doorway. They raised their heads and looked directly at me. Domi's right hand was still grasping his uncle's organ, still stiff with a pendant of semen hanging from the tip, and the thumb and two fingers of Dimitri's left hand were still gripping his nephew's little penis, which was also still erect. A smile slowly began to curl Domi's lips. Dimitri looked up at me blankly with that dead man expression.

"Did you see Nonno? Did you see?" Domi asked excitedly. "I made Uncle Dimitri's cock squirt just like he said it would!" He glanced at his uncle with the excitement and triumph of a child who had just achieved some miraculous feat, and for a child his age, it was.

"You sure did," Dimitri responded with a long, deep sigh, the beginning of a leer slanting his eyes and curling his upper lip as he looked at his nephew. "You did good, real good."

"It's sticky," Domi observed, wrinkling his nose and holding up his hand, a thin streak of Domi's slimy semen clinging to his fingers and glistening in the dimmed light.

"A baptism of my life-giving juice to introduce you to your new life of sexual awareness," Dimitri said huskily, taking the boy's begrimed hand and holding it up. Reaching down with his other hand, he squeezed his still stiff organ and drew his hand up to the glans, squeezing out a rivulet of thick semen. Catching it up with the tip of his index finger, he reached over and marked the boy's forehead with the sign of the cross with his slime. "In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost," he blasphemed. Lowering his hand, he smeared the remainder of his slime on the tip of the boy's little penis which he was still holding and which was still stiff, causing the boy to squirm with his newly discovered pleasure. "And did you like how I made your cock feel?"

Domi looked at him bright-eyed and with parted lips as he nodded in the affirmative although it was evident he was not so certain.

"And did you like making mine squirt?"

Domi nodded in the affirmative again, this time more energetically. "Can we do it again?"

"We can make yours pop off again," Dimitri replied with a smile, the first genuine smile I had seen cross his lips since his return, "that's the advantage of being your age. But it will take Uncle Dimitri a little while to reload his nuts before he can squirt again." He paused and looked up at me. "Maybe Nonno will let you make his cock squirt." He looked at me blankly as if what he had suggested was the most natural and acceptable thing in the world and something sons normally said to their fathers. Domi looked up at me uncertainly but expectantly.

"Go wash your hands," I said, addressing Domi, finally finding my voice and with extreme effort controlling it. "And your forehead, and use plenty of soap. Grampa needs to talk to Uncle Dimitri."

The boy looked up at me in surprise and with apprehension. He could tell I was displeased from the tone of my voice and I'm sure from the look on my face, and he did not understand why. He also had to know from the tone of my voice and my reaction that what had happened was something very serious and that he had somehow done something wrong, though what it could be he did not know, and could not. Looking down at the floor now with fright and apprehension and on the verge of tears for having done something to upset his Nonno, he slipped off the bed and hesitated, wanting to apologize but not knowing for what.

"Pick up your clothes and I'll come help you put them on in the bathroom." He picked them up quickly and obediently and slipped out of the room, his eyes still downcast, his upper lip quivering.

"How could you?" I asked flatly once Domi was out of hearing range, my voice quivering with rage as I did my best to keep my temper, which under the circumstances took every ounce of restraint I had. I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to slap him. I wanted to shake some sense into him. "How the hell could you? You're, you're, three times his age! He's, he's a child!"

Dimitri looked up at me blankly and shrugged. "He already knew it felt good fiddling with himself. Most kids do by his age. You have to have seen him playing with himself before." I had. I had not made any big deal out of it, just shook my head, and he had stopped. "I just gave him the opportunity to do it with someone else, and to find out what it was like to go all the way to the end."

"Opportunity!" I sputtered. "All the way to the end? What were you thinking? Is that what you're going to tell his father if he finds out what you've done!"

"Why not? That's only fair. Who do you think it was that introduced me to jacking off?" I had never wondered how he had learned about it, not even when I had seen that embarrassing video years ago when he had been forced to admit he committed the sin and did it frequently, daily, sometimes twice a day. All boys learn about it sooner or later, and in today's society, most attempt it at least once I'm told. I had never thought about it since, and I didn't want to know now. "Com'on, it's no big deal. Every guy on earth tries it at some time. I just passed the big secret Alex told me on to his son."

"When Alexandros told you, I'm sure you weren't Domi's age." I also wanted to add that telling someone something and doing it to them are two very different things, and that surely he and Alex hadn't touched each other, and I almost did but I caught myself in time. Of that I was fairly certain, but I could not be sure, and I certainly did not want to know. There are some things a father should never know.

"So Domi's lucky, he's got a seven-year head start over me. Alex should thank me. Domi got the facts given to him straight so he won't feel guilty or ashamed about doing it, to himself or with others, which is more than Alex did when I caught him jerking off in his bedroom. It took me years to shake off those feelings of having done something shameful and that I should feel guilty about." From what Dimitri said he would have been around eleven and Alex fifteen or sixteen. The image of Alexandros being caught by his younger brother with his pants down flashed through my mind. It was a sick image. No father should have a picture of his sons like that in his mind. And how does a father respond to a revelation like that about his sons? "Domi won't be told anything that will make him feel guilty or ashamed about what we did, will he?" he asked, looking up at me. Although his expression was blank, I sensed an accusatory tone.

"I have no intention of discussing with you what I will or will not do regarding my grandson, nor anything further on this matter with you lying there naked and soiled," I replied sharply, not knowing what else to say. I honestly did not know what I was going to say to Domi, or do about this situation. "I need to go help Domi. Get yourself dressed and cleaned up." I turned and marched out of his room angrily. In truth, I fled from his presence.

Domi was, as I had figured, struggling with buttoning his shirt. He looked at me apprehensively as I helped him. He said nothing out of fear of being punished and I said nothing because I did not know what to say. Returning to the living room and sitting in my chair, I was in a quandary what to do. Did I take Domi aside and try to explain to him what Dimitri had done was wrong and that he wasn't to do it with him again? It was not my place to talk about the facts of life or about masturbation with my grandson, and I certainly was not prepared to try to do so, not with a prepubescent child. Did I inform Alexandros and leave it up to him to deal with it with Domi? I couldn't put him in such an awkward position, and I couldn't risk what he might do about the situation when he learned what his younger brother had done. As wrong as it was, Dimitri was my son and I had to protect him.

Throughout supper I could think of nothing else than what I had witnessed, the image of my grandson and my twenty-two-year-old son naked and grasping each other's privates and in the throes of orgasm, Alexandros noticed my distraction and asked if anything was wrong. Dimitri caught my eye and sat there with a blank look on his face, that mask he wore ever since returning home, but I had the impression that behind that mask was a smug look as if daring me to reveal our secret. Hellena observed that Domi had worn me out that afternoon and I had to lie down and we laughed about that, at his active imagination and energy and that his grandfather was growing old. Every time I glanced at Domi I pictured him with Dimitri's erect penis in his hand, semen dripping from his fingers, and him bouncing on the bed with his first orgasm, a child years away from puberty. I could not concentrate and lost track of the conversation around me. Everyone noticed my distraction and was concerned. I assured them it was nothing, and I was just tired, and getting old. At the moment I felt very old.

So did I talk to Domi and explain to him what he and his uncle had done was very private and should be kept a secret, even from his mother and father, and especially from his friends? I wanted to but I would be implying that what they had done was wrong, and although I believed it was, as Dimitri had implied, I could be saddling Domi with shame and guilt at his young age. That I could not do! Besides, if Alexandros found out I had discovered Domi and Dimitri masturbating and had told his son to keep what had happened a secret from him, I would be condoning Dimitri's sin and perverted behaviour and leaving myself open to Alex's wrath and condemnation for covering up what was in this country a crime. Of course if he found out I had discovered them in sin and had said and done nothing I would be leaving myself open to his wrath and condemnation anyway. On the other hand, if I did tell him what had happened, I feared what his reaction would be regarding his younger brother. At long last Dimitri had returned, and even though he was a stranger under my roof, he was my son.

So I did the only thing I could do. I said nothing and hoped it was a one-time occurrence. If I did not make an issue about it and guarded against Dimitri and Domi ever being alone together again Domi would forget about it as children his age are wont to do. It would all just go away and I would have upset nobody. Deep down inside I knew that was the wrong decision and that it would not just go away. Racked with guilt and worries, I kissed my crucifix and asked for forgiveness and the Lord's guidance, and His blessing on my son and my grandchild. I did not sleep well that night.

Chapter 2
This is Marcus Learning to Suck Cock

Seven year old Marcus, Dimitri's sister's son, is introduced to man-boy oral sex by his twenty-two year-old uncle and he in turn introduces his seven-year-old buddy Bobby. Story told by Marcus and videotaped and transcribed by Dimitri for posting.

Characters: Marcus (7yo), Dimitri (22yo), Bobby (7yo).
Mb – cons oral

Ah… my name is Marcus. I am seven years old. I go to Saint Francis Elementary School and I am in grade one. I like going to school. I like it best when we read stories. I like stories and I like to read. I don't like when we got to do printing. I like to watch cartoons Saturday morning and I like playing cars and trucks and I like playing with my best friend Bobby… And I like to suck cock. This is a video about me learning all about sucking cock. My uncle Dimitri learned me. He is making this video and he said he would put it on the Internet so other kids can see me doing it and see how much fun it is and learn how to do it. He said lots of grownups would like to see me doing it and that it would make them horny. That is when a guy's cock gets hard. That feels really neat when your cock does that. It is fun making other guys horny too. Uncle Dimitri says hearing me say cock gets him horny. It is true. When I say cock his cock starts to swell up and get bigger. It is my magic word.

Uncle Dimitri told me to tell all about how he learned me and to do it to him while he recorded it with his phone and then he would put it on the Internet so guys all over could watch it. Um… oh yeah. Uncle Dimitri said he would write what I say on the video cuz he knows a place on the Internet where guys put stories about sucking cock and stuff with kids and so lots of guys can read about it and that will make them horny too… I like to make my Uncle Dimitri horny and I think it would be funny to make a bunch of guys I don't even know horny too… Um… What? What do you mean? Oh, okay.

Uncle Dimitri says to tell you some more about myself and what I look like and stuff for the guys who are gonna read this. I… ah… got black hair just like my mother and like my Uncle Dimitri. But it's not as long as theirs. Uncle Dimitri wears his real long way past his shoulders. Mine just goes to my collar and over the tops of my ears and over my forehead. I don't got any hair on my arms and legs and my chest like Uncle Dimitri. His is really, really thick. I got blue eyes like them too, my uncle and my mother… and Uncle Dimitri said to mention I got long black eyelashes… feathery eyelashes… and thick lips… and a sexy smile… and perfect white teeth… Oh yeah, we just weighed me and measured how tall I am. I weigh twenty-one kilos [46 pounds] and am one hundred and six centimetres [42 inches] tall… Um… I got five uncles, Uncle Dimitri and Uncle Alexandros who everyone calls Alex except my Nonno and Nonna. They are my mother's brothers. And there is Uncle James and Uncle Harold who are my father's brothers… And Uncle John, who is the husband of my mother's sister Maria. I got a sister who is two and my mother is pregnant. I hope she's gonna have a boy. Uncle Dimitri says she is a real baby machine and likes to feel my dad's cock in her, and that Aunt Maria who is pregnant too is a cock hungry bitch too.

["Tell them what your mom and dad told you, about me. You know, before you met me."]

Okay. Let me think… Um… my mom and dad said that before I was born some bad men came and took Uncle Dimitri away and did bad things to him and made him do a bunch of bad things. I don't know what xactly cuz it was bad stuff and I'm just a kid so they wouldn't say what it was on account of that just that it was really bad… So anyway they said because of all the bad stuff Uncle Dimitri didn't talk much and was sorta sad and liked to be by himself and wasn't like my other uncles. And they said I shouldn't bug him and should just leave him alone when we came to visit Nonna and Nonno but if I saw him I should be nice and smile and not be scared.

["And what else did they say, about you being alone with me?"]

Oh yeah. I heard them talking when we was getting ready to come to visit Nonna and Nonno after Uncle Dimitri come to live with them. My mom said Uncle Dimitri made her… ah… feel… um… oh yeah, uncomfortable, and she said that when we were at Nonna and Nonno's she didn't want me to ever be alone when we was there.

["And do I make you feel uncomfortable?"]

Unh-unh.

["Are you afraid of me?"]

No.

["Okay. Tell everyone about the first time we did it. Start from when you got up that morning. Take your time and tell them everything you remember."]

Um… okay. It was Easter Saturday. Everybody slept in and then we went to Nonna and Nonno's and Nonna made heaps of pancakes with bacon and strawberries and whipped cream which is our special breakfast on special days. Then we drove to Chestemere Lake for a picnic. Everyone was there, Nonna and Nonno, Aunt Maria and Uncle John, Uncle Alex and Aunt Mikala, Aunt Anna and her boyfriend, and my cousins Domi and Luke, and Uncle Nikos and Uncle Dimitri. My dad and Uncle Alex and Uncle Nikos and Uncle Dimitri played football and Uncle John and Nonno took Domi and Luke and me and my sister and Luke's sisters to play on the playground and Nonna and my aunts and my mom stayed at the picnic table and talked and then took out our picnic lunch they brought and we had lunch. Nonno and my dad cooked hamburgers and hotdogs and the grownups had beer and me and Domi and Luke had pop and when we was done everyone had ice cream and chocolate cake for desert.

Uncle Dimitri and Domi sat beside each other and while we was eating they kept looking at each other and grinning like they had some sort of secret and I could tell Domi was real happy and Uncle Dimitri didn't look sad at all like he usually did. I noticed Uncle Dimitri kept looking at me too, especially when I was eating and he winked and made funny faces which made me laugh. After we ate we went down to the beach and while Domi and Luke and I made sand castles the grownups sat around talking and stuff and Dad and Uncle Alex blew up some beach balls.

Then, let's see… After a while Nonno and Nonna got tired so they went up on the grass under the trees where there was shade. Me and Domi and Luke wanted to go back to the playground so Dad, Uncle Dimitri and Uncle Alex and Uncle Nikos took us and our sisters stayed with my mom and my aunts. Ah, then after a bit Aunt Anna came and said they was gonna play lawn darts and needed one more partner. Dad said he'd go play. Then Domi got bored of the playground and said he wanted to go play in the sand again and Uncle Dimitri said that was okay and he'd stay with me and Luke and for Uncle Alex to go ahead and take Domi but Luke said he'd rather go with Uncle Alex. He looked at Uncle Dimitri sort of scared like and I don't think he liked being around Uncle Dimitri.

Uncle Dimitri and Uncle Nikos pushed me on the swings and I went on the slides but then some bigger kids came and hogged the slides and stuff and some girls came by and Uncle Nikos was more interested in them. So Uncle Dimitri told him to go talk to them and said we could go back to the beach and join Domi or go watch the others play lawn darts. After Uncle Nikos went to talk to the girls, Uncle Dimitri said if I didn't want to go to the beach or watch lawn darts, he and I could do something else, something special.

I asked what and he said he noticed I really liked hotdogs. I said I did and was hungry for another one and another pop. He didn't say no like Mom and Dad and said he didn't think there were any more cooked, but if I like wieners, he had a big one I could eat and he smiled. I didn't know what he meant and he looked at me and then down between his legs and back up at me and then down between his legs and I caught on and laughed. He said when he was my age that was what he and his friends called theirs and asked what me and my friends called ours. I said mostly my friends and me called it our thing or our pee-er but some older guys at school called it a wiener. He said there were lots of names for it and asked what my mom and dad called it and I said my mom never called it nothing but dad called it a wee-wee. Uncle Dimitri said a grownup name for it was cock. He said that was a dirty word but he didn't mind if I said it and that was when he told me about how hearing young boys say cock got him and lots of men horny.

So we walked along this path beside the lake and took a path that joined it and went up a hill and sorta disappeared. Uncle Dimitri said he liked to eat wieners too, especially young boy wieners, and that he'd like to eat mine. I said I didn't think it would taste too good and he said it would, and that it feels real good to get it eaten, and he'd show me and if I didn't like it then we would stop but if I liked how it felt he'd like me to eat his too. I said I liked wieners but not that kind and asked if he ate mine how would I be able to pee. He laughed and said we didn't really eat it like a wiener and he asked if I ever tried that kind. I said no of course and he said then I don't really know if I'd like it or not which was right. He took out some packets of relish and mustard and ketchup and said to pull down my pants and underwear and he'd eat mine first. I thought it strange he had that stuff in his pocket and he said he put it in his pocket when we had lunch cuz when he saw me eating hotdogs he was hoping we might do what we was gonna do. I asked if he was really gonna put that stuff on my thing and eat it and he said sure, putting the stuff on was part of the fun but he wouldn't really eat it, just lick it off and suck it.

So I pushed down my pants and underwear and stood there and Uncle Dimitri knelt down in front of me and took the packets and tore them open and put streaks on my wiener and the part that hangs below it that I didn't know had a name but he said had many names and he called my nuts. Then he sat on his heels and put his hands on my hips and he stuck out his tongue and started to lick the stuff off my wiener and nuts. He really did. And then he slipped his mouth around my wiener and began to suck on it and to slide his lips up and down it. When he slid his lips over the end part the end felt itchy but sorta good too and sorta funny. When he stopped I was surprised my wiener was hard and sticking up like it sometimes is when I wake up and have to pee.

Then he slipped his mouth around my wiener again and began to suck some more and when he slid his lips up and down he pushed what my dad calls my hood back like I'm supposed to when I have a bath to clean it and then pulled it back up. That makes your wiener feel weird when you do it and when a guy does it to you over and over with his mouth it feels really weird and really itchy but sorta good too. The more he did it the itchier my wiener got and then it went funny sorta like when your leg or arm or something goes to sleep. Then this real weird thing happened. I began to jerk my hips back and forth and I couldn't stop it and the tip of my wiener began to burn sorta like a scratch does. Rubbing it against his lips made it feel better like scratching an itch makes it feel better and so I pushed my hips forward and drew them back as fast as I could. It felt really strange but sorta good too.

Well Uncle Dimitri asked if I wanted to try doing to his what he had done to mine. I said I didn't think so and he said a guy's wiener really don't taste bad and for me to just lick it and see. Well since he did mine I thought that was only fair. So he pushed down his pants and underwear and his wiener was really huge, way longer than my longest finger and fat around like a sausage. His didn't have a hood like me and my dad have and he said some guys didn't. He had a big patch of hair above it. He gave me the packets of stuff and I put lots of relish and mustard and ketchup on his wiener thinking the more I put on the harder it would be to taste his cock. I learned when I was little to put lots of ketchup on stuff I don't like to eat, like liver, so I can't taste it.

I thought it was gonna be really yucky when I knelt in front of him and stuck out my tongue. I was real happy when all I could taste was relish and mustard and ketchup. As I licked the stuff off his wiener it began to get bigger. He said that was because his cock was liking what I was doing, just like mine had liked being licked and sucked by him and had gotten swollen up too. I put lots of ketchup and stuff on so I hadda do a lotta lickin'.

Then he told me to try sucking it like he done to me. I didn't wanna cuz I had licked off all the ketchup and stuff but I thought I'd just try it. I was real surprised. It didn't have no taste. And it was way better than liver. So I sucked some more and slid my lips up and down cept I couldn't go all the way down cuz his wiener was too long. His cock kept swelling so I knew it was liking it and I know I'd liked it when he had done it to me so I kept doing it as I thought I should make him feel good like he made me feel good since he made me feel good. It got really hard and really big so I could just get the bump at the end in my mouth. When my mouth filled up with spit I had a hard time swallowing it cuz my mouth was full of cock! My spit tasted different. Sortta like what a raw wiener tastes like I think.

After a bit my jaw and neck began to get tired and sore but he said to do it just a little bit longer cuz he was about to come which he said is what they call what happened to me at the end. And he said when a guy is older his nuts make a special juice that he squirts out when he comes. He said not to worry and when it happens to just swallow. I didn't think that a good idea at all but I couldn't say nothing with my mouth full of his cock and before I could think how to tell him he said he was coming and he did. It was hot and slimy and sorta… ah… like a pill I sometimes have to take when I get a cold, and real thick like snot and it filled my mouth so fast I had to swallow or I would choke. There was so much I couldn't swallow fast enough and some oozed out of my mouth and down around my chin. Uncle Dimitri squirmed and jerked and grabbed my head tight and breathed real hard. I could tell he was really liking it a lot and that made me feel good that he was liking it and feeling good. I thought about what I heard my mom saying about him being sad and I was glad that I was able to make him happy.

When we was done we pulled our underwear and pants up and went to the beach and I played with Domi and Luke. Uncle Alex and Uncle Dimitri went for a long swim but I thought the water was too cold. Then we went up to see mom and dad and my aunts and had some pop and cake and chips. It was a really great picnic!

["That was very, very good. Now tell what we did it with Domi."]

Okay. It was the next day, Easter Sunday. We all went to church that morning like we always do and then went to Nonna and Nonno's house like we always do, and Uncle Alex and Aunt Mikala and Domi and everyone was there. While the grownups visited Domi and me played outside and Domi really wasn't that interested and kept trying to leave and finally said he really wanted to go and play with Uncle Dimitri. Well I was hoping you and me – oh, Uncle Dimitri and me that is – might do what we did at the picnic again so we both went in. The grownups were looking at old pictures and didn't notice us and we saw Uncle Dimitri wasn't there so we went to see if he was in his room and he was.

He was real happy to see us and Domi right away asked if we could do their special thing. Well Uncle Dimitri said that would be fine if I wanted to too. I didn't know what it was and wanted to say I'd rather suck cock but I didn't know if Uncle Dimitri wanted Domi to know about that secret so I said sure. We all pushed down our pants and underwear so I knew it was gonna be something fun. We sat on Uncle Dimitri's bed and Uncle Dimitri reached over and took my cock between his thumb and first two fingers and began to rub it and showed me how to do it to Domi who did it to Uncle Dimitri. Uncle Dimitri said doing it was called… jacking off… and that when a bunch of guys did each other it was called a… I forget.

["Jerk circle."]

Oh yeah, a jerk circle. It felt funny having someone rubbing my cock like that and funny doing it to my cousin. His wiener was really small like a little worm but it started to swell and get hard and so did mine and Uncle Dimitri's. It felt good getting rubbed, like scratching an itch, and the way Domi was really concentrating on jacking off Uncle Dimitri and watching me doing him I knew he was feeling good too, and Uncle Dimitri's cock was hard so he had to be feeling good too. Well after a while my cock started to feel funny and I knew it meant I was going to come soon and I really was looking forward to it when Uncle Dimitri stopped and said we should just sit and… ah… yeah, concentrate on how good we were feeling, and then he'd show us something new. So we sat there and thought about how good our cocks was feeling and how good it was to make each other feel good. Then Uncle Dimitri said the game he was going to learn us was called a daisy chain. He had us lay down on his bed in sort of a circle. Then he took my cock in his mouth and had me take Domi's cock in my mouth and Domi take his cock in his mouth. Then we all began to suck. It was sorta different from when Uncle Dimitri and I did it and sorta the same. For one thing Domi's little cock was just as big as my little finger and I was able to put it all in my mouth and suck on it like a little straw right down to his belly. After a bit my cock began to feel tingly and then I got that feeling where I began to jerk my hips and couldn't stop it and Domi was squirming too and his cock was hot and hard and I felt it throbbing in my mouth, and then I was coming and so was Uncle Dimitri. Domi tried hard to swallow Uncle Dimitri's juice but couldn't and got sprayed in the face with gobs and gobs of it which I thought was funny. Uncle Dimitri had some Kleenex and he wiped off his cock and Domi wiped off his face and Domi and me promised it would be our secret and we wouldn't tell nobody what we done.

["You did very well telling."]

You want me to tell about me and Bobby now?

["You and Bobby?"]

Unhuh. I learned him how to suck cock.

["Wow! I didn't know that. Yeah, tell all about it."]

Well, after we did the daisy circle-.

["Daisy chain."]

Oh yeah. After we did that, one day when Bobby was at my house after school-.

["Tell who Bobby is and what he looks like, and something about him. Like when we started this afternoon."]

Oh. Okay. Bobby is my very best friend. He lives down the street from me and we are in the same class at school. He sits right across from me. We always play together at recess and me and him play almost every day after school. He really likes to draw and stuff and he's really good at it. He's got an older brother and sister and a younger brother and sister. Well, one day after school-. Oh yeah, what he looks like. Well, him and me are about the same, the same tall and weigh the same I mean. We both got blue eyes too, but his hair is yellow… and real curly. He likes to play cars and trucks too and he don't like girls just like me. I don't know what he likes and don't like at school… Okay. So he came over after school like he usually does and we played for a while and Mom said she has to run to the store and she'll only be gone half an hour and for us not to leave the house or get into anything.

Well, I thought that was a good time to learn Bobby about jacking off and sucking cock. So I asked him if he knew what that was and he said no. I told him it was even more fun than playing cars and trucks. We was in my room so we pushed down our pants and underwear and compared our cocks and nuts. His has a hood just like mine and looks the same. Then I showed him how to jack off, and after we did it a little bit and nothing was happening to his I suggested we try doing each other's. That was fun and sorta exciting cuz a guy's thing is private and nobody is supposed to touch it. His started to swell which he said it never done before and was amazing. He says 'amazing' a lot. So we did it some more until Bobby said his was feeling funny like it had gone to sleep and I said that was supposed to happen and the next part was really great. So we did it more until we came. Bobby jerked and bounced on the bed and his eyes were big and he said it felt real amazing but was kinda scary. It was specially good cuz it was something secret and we did it with that part that is real private.

I said there was something just as great we could do. Well when I told him he said I was nuts and there was no way he was going to put my cock in his mouth especially since we didn't have no mustard and ketchup and stuff. I said I would suck his and he would see how good it felt. Well he still thought I was nuts but he sat on the edge of the bed and I knelt between his legs and began to lick and suck his cock and his nuts and his cock began to get hard again and he said that it did feel good like I said it would. So I sat on the edge of the bed and he knelt between my legs and licked my cock and found it didn't taste bad at all and was actually sorta exciting. He said it was not different than sucking his thumb, and I said it was even better than sucking thumbs and way better than eating liver and he laughed and said that was for sure. So we laid down on my bed and sucked on each other's cock. Mine was real hard and the end real itchy and feeling good and Bobby's was hard too and the way he was squirming I know his was feeling good too. When we both came it was really great fun! Then we heard my mother come home so we pulled up our pants and underwear real quick. We are gonna do it again and again, lots of times!

["Wanna do each other now?"]

Sure!

[Propping his phone up on his dresser, Dimitri joined his nephew on his bed where the boy had been sitting. Pulling off the boy's T-shirt, Dimitri pulled off his pants and underwear, taking his socks with them so the boy was sitting on the edge of the bed naked. Spreading apart his legs, he zoomed the camera in to show the boy's tiny privates and then his smiling face before kneeling between his legs and proceeding to lick the boy's cocklet and balls. Marcus was hard in no time and again Dimitri zoomed in to show the boy's little erection, the hood of his cock stretched back and revealing his plum-red bulb. As he swirled his tongue over it, the seven-year-old squirmed with obvious pleasure. Giving it a thorough licking, he slipped his lips over it and began to suck, and the boy squirmed and tensed with the pleasure rippling through his little cocklet no bigger than a man's thumb. In no time the boy's eyes glazed over and he was squirming and jerking and whimpering with an obvious orgasm.

Stripping down and chucking his clothes aside, Dimitri positioned himself in front of the camera. He was already rock hard and his twenty-centimetre cock was jutting up between his legs eager for attention. Grasping it by the base, the seven-year-old ran his tongue up the shaft and swirled it about the exposed glans eagerly as if licking an ice cream cone. He continued until the first droplets of clear pre-cum oozed out of the man's slit and again Dimitri zoomed in for a closeup. With an eager grin, Lucas stuck out his tongue and flipped up the sweet nectar into his mouth, clearly having done this before.

He then slipped his mouth over the blood-engorged knob, barely being able to take it in his mouth, and his downy cheeks sunk in as he began to suck. His clear blue eyes sparkled with lust as his rosy lips slid up and down over the rim of the man's glans and the boy concentrated on the task before him with all the eagerness and delight of a seven-year-old child doing what he enjoyed doing. For the next several minutes the only sounds were the heavy breathing of the couple, the twenty-two-year-old uncle and his seven-year-old nephew, and the slurping and sucking of the cock-hungry child. Dimitri began to squirm and warned his nephew he was about to shoot. His hairy chest rising and falling, Dimitri finally tossed his head back and stared up at the ceiling as his lips parted and he sighed and gasped with the first spurts of his orgasm.

The boy's Adam's apple bobbed as he eagerly began to swallow and the man's thick slime streamed out between the corners of his mouth and flowed down around his chin as the man filled his mouth with his thick, hot cream. Spurt after spurt shot into the boy's mouth and the boy swallowed repeatedly and the man arched his back and thrust upward, his swollen nuts forming a tight hairy ball beneath his shaft. The boy continued to suck long after the man had come, draining his shaft and his balls of their precious fluid. Finally slipping his rosy lips off the man's bulb, he grinned up at the camera happily, his smooth cheeks flushed with exertion and pleasure, his lips coated with a film of slime that hung in strands inside his mouth and formed a ring about his chin. This is Marcus sucking cock.]

Chapter 3
The Private Tutor

Fourteen-year-old grade nine student Justin is chosen to tutor Dimitri in mathematics twice a week. Naive and virgin, he quickly discovers Dimitri's real intent is to tutor him in man-boy sex. Story told by Justin.

Characters: Justin, Dimitri. Codes: Mt – noncons mast oral anal

"Would you stay behind a moment please, Justin?"

"Uh-oh, you're in trouble now."

"Yeah. Bet you're going to get a lecture for only getting ninety-nine percent on yesterday's assignment."

"Naw. Whiting needs a thrill. He wants the geek to drop to his knees and give him a goose with his nose."

"The brown-noser would do it too!"

The first two comments were sarcastic but said in a teasing voice and were meant to be funny even though they hurt, a lot. The last two were cruel and said out of jealousy, loud enough for me to hear but not Mr. Whiting. I pretended not to have heard but they knew I had. What they did not know was how much their comments hurt. Whoever said "sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me" didn't know twat. As they left the room I don't know who I was madder at, them, or me for not speaking up. Chicken shit. Dork. Geek. That was me.

"I've been approached by a young man about getting some extra help in mathematics," Mr. Whiting said after the class had left. "He's taking a correspondence course and asked me to recommend a good tutor. He had to interrupt his grade nine education eight years ago and wants to pick up where he left off. He's quite bright. It shouldn't be that difficult, and the pay is good if you're interested."

"Yeah, I suppose," I replied in surprise with a shrug of my shoulders.

"His name is Dimitri Savalos." Now that was even more of a surprise. I looked at Mr. Whiting curiously. Surely he had heard the stories. "You know who he is."

"Yeah. Sure." You would have had to have been a hermit not to. The newspapers had big articles about him when he returned, and there were a lot of rumours about him, that he had done queer stuff with guys, older guys when he had been kidnapped, and little kids when he was older, and that he still did mess around with guys. Some parents thought he was dangerous and shouldn't be allowed to live where there were kids, which I thought was dumb. Where was there any place in the world that didn't have children? The South Pole? Other parents felt sorry for him and said people should go out of their way to welcome him. There were big arguments between the two groups with letters to the editor and meetings about it. My father was of the first opinion and my mother of the second, which resulted in arguments right in our own home. Myself I didn't have an opinion, but it was sortta creepy knowing there was a guy like that living in our city.

"Then you can understand why he wants to keep this tutoring thing a secret. He doesn't want the media to find out and make a big issue out of it. You know how the media can blow everything out of proportion. It could even prevent him from furthering his education and I'd hate to see that happen. So, if you'd like the job, it wouldn't be a wise thing to mention it to any of your friends, probably not even your parents for that matter. The fewer people who know the less chance word will slip out. Only you and I would know and it would be best to keep it that way. You understand."

"Yeah. Sure." I understood the need for secrecy, and not just for him. If certain of my classmates found out I was seeing a guy who messed around with teenage boys I knew exactly what sort of things they'd be saying, and not behind my back. That Mr. Whiting would suggest keeping it a secret even from my parents was a surprise and should have set off warning lights, but when I thought of what my father would say and the arguing that would result with my mother, I figured it was a good point. My dad definitely would not approve.

"You mentioned pay?"

"Two sessions a week, probably an hour each, two at the most, twenty dollars an hour."

Forty to eighty dollars a week! That was good pay! And mathematics was my favourite subject. "Yeah, I'd be interested." And I certainly would not tell my Dad, not for that sort of pay.

So, that Sunday at precisely 9:45 I showed up at his doorstep as instructed–Mister Whiting was emphatic about the time. He met me at the door and took me directly to his room. He looked like a perfectly normal guy–he didn't have horns growing out of the top of his head or anything. The room on the other hand was nothing like I would have ever imagined. The ceiling and two walls were painted black, one wall a dark blue, and the fourth a dark burgundy, and they were covered with pictures of barbarians in skins and carrying clubs and spears, satyrs and devils with their genitals visible, and posters of Calvin Klein models in tight jeans and briefs and preteen Joe Cool models. Incense burners and candles were arranged about the room, on his desk and on a dresser that looked more like an altar with a picture of Jesus hanging above it. A large double bed with a black velvet cover and lavender sheets and pillows took up almost half the room.

I was nervous as heck he being the only one at home, and having never tutored anyone before I was not sure what to do, but he had his math text open to the section he was studying and we got right down to business. The two hours went by quickly and at exactly 11:45 I was ushered out the door with two twenties in my pocket. The following Thursday I showed up right after school. I was met at the door by his mother, who looked quite surprised and a bit worried and I thought she was going to send me away, but Dimitri showed up and informed her that I was tutoring him in mathematics and that I had been recommended by Saint Joseph's. I could see she disapproved but was impressed I was from Saint Joseph's. She didn't say anything.

Again the next two hours passed by quickly and we focussed again on the lesson the whole time, the only interruption being when his mother timidly arrived at his door after about an hour with milk and cookies, as if we were two kids. He thanked her but told her firmly that we had to concentrate and could not be interrupted. She didn't return, but I had the impression that she was hovering around in the hallway several times over the next hour. He did brush his knee against mine occasionally, but we were sitting side by side as we went over the textbook, and he occasionally placed his hand on my shoulder or on my thigh as he leaned over to see an illustration in the textbook, all very innocent and hardly unusual given our tight quarters. Besides, I know some families and cultures have no qualms about physical contact and I had a feeling he and his family were of that type. Again I went home forty dollars richer. I had been stupid worrying and I was thankful I hadn't told Dad or I wouldn't be rolling in the dough. It just showed a guy shouldn't listen to rumours.

The next Sunday I arrived eager to continue our lessons, totally relaxed and relieved that my worries had been foolish. He was very bright, as Mr. Whiting had said, and that made it easy, but it also meant in no time he would be caught up to me even though he had quit at the beginning of Grade nine and it was now the end of April so I was eight months ahead of him. Once that happened I'd have to quit tutoring him and that would be the end of the eighty bucks a week. That was a chuckle. One day I'd been worried about doing this, and now I worried it was going to come to an end. The first fifteen minutes went by as any other time, but then for the first time since we'd begun, he stopped talking about mathematics and started talking personal.

"So, Justin, I imagine you have a lot of girlfriends."

"Not really," I replied, surprised by the question right out of the blue like that, and especially with him being eight years older than I was.

"Com'on now. You're not that bad looking, and you're smart and pleasant."

"Smart guys aren't that popular with girls."

"Humph. Was the same when I was in grade nine too. Things haven't changed. But you have one girl in particular you have the hots for? One you jack off thinking about at nights?"

"No," I replied uncomfortably. "Now, the formula for this next quest–."

"Don't you like girls?"

"Sure. Of course I do," I said, more emphatically than I normally would. I could not help thinking about the rumours about him and guys and I started to get real nervous. Maybe I should have lied and made like I was real macho or something.

"Maybe you like guys better?" he asked, placing his hand on my thigh, confirming the rumours, at least to my mind. Good God, he was coming on to me! My heart began racing. What did a guy do in a case like this?

"No!" I said, definitely more loudly than I normally would have. I quickly pulled my leg away.

"It's okay if you do. You'd be surprised how many guys have the hots for other guys."

"I don't," I replied, tense as all heck now. "Not at all!"

"Have you ever done anything with a guy, sexually?"

"No. Nothing." My voice cracked. God, why did it crack now when I wanted it to sound deep and masculine? "Now we need to get back–."

"Have you ever done anything sexually with a girl?"

"No," I admitted more hesitantly. I would never have admitted that with the guys, but I wasn't thinking straight. And this wasn't one of the guys. He was twenty-two for God's sake! In hind sight I realized I should have said I did. That I did everything there was to do with a girl, even more. God, now that didn't make sense. I was panicking!

"Not even kiss?"

"We need to focus on–."

"You've never kissed?" he persisted.

"No. Now–."

He turned and taking me in his arms, kissed me, forcefully, and as I struggled to break away he held me more tightly, his lips still pressed against mine. Good God that was gross! When he finally released me, I stood up and backed away from the desk like I'd just been attacked by a rabid dog. My heart was racing. He got up too and wrapped his arms about me, his hands grasping my butt. Oh God, my butt! As he lowered his head to kiss me, I turned my face away.

"Don't," I protested as he gave my cheek a peck.

"You're fourteen and a guy and not making out with a girlfriend? You might not be interested in guys, but don't tell me you're not horny." His right hand slipped over my hip and groped me between the legs, his left still grasping my butt cheek. Unable to wiggle out of his clutch, I reached down and tried to push his right hand away. "That's enough math for today," he said as he squeezed my crotch. "Let's get our nuts off."

"No. Dimitri, don't." As he began to pull down my fly I tried to stop him but he was stronger and older, and experienced at this.

"You can go ahead and struggle. Even scream. In fact I like it that way, in the beginning anyway. My parents and kid bro are at church so nobody's gonna hear you." "I'm not interested! I'm not into guys!" Oh God, my voice cracked again. "So stop. I mean it," I protested as I tried to squirm out of his grasp. "I'll report you!" I warned desperately when he continued groping me between the legs.

He laughed. It was an evil laugh. Not like in the cartoons, but for real. It chilled me to the bone. My backbone that is, not the one developing between my legs. Oh God, I was getting a bone on! "Report me? To who? The police? You'll really tell them I messed with you? Bet your mom and dad would be delighted to learn that. The police will have to tell them you know." He smiled at me knowingly. "And of course the papers will jump all over something like that. A teenage boy and a man. They love that sort of news. Believe me, I know. Course they won't report your name being a minor, but they will mine. People will start putting two and two together. You're the math genius, figure it out. Two plus two equals me and a Saint Joseph's Academy student, a grade nine mathematics genius. I wonder who that is?" He had my fly down and his hand was inside cupping my stuff. His hand was hot and I had a pain in the pit of my stomach and my heart was pounding so I should be having a heart attack.

"The police wouldn't release details like that."

"Of course they wouldn't. But reporters ask questions and word gets out. But let's talk about your parents. They know about the money I've been paying you?" Of course they didn't, and he could tell the answer from the look on my face. "Forty bucks a session for a math lesson? Or maybe for some fag fun? Which will they believe? Especially since you haven't even told them you've been tutoring me, have you?" He knew I hadn't. He popped open the top of my jeans and pushed them down over my hips along with my briefs. Good God! This couldn't be happening!

"They'd know I wouldn't do anything like that. Not willingly," I said as I tried to push him back. Crap, he had my balls in his hand.

"How do you think your parents will look at you knowing you had sex with a guy, willingly or not willingly?" His fingers released my balls and slipped around my dick. "Think your dad will be able to look at you without thinking that some guy had his hands on your cock? Or that you messed with some guy's dick?" My dad wouldn't, definitely he wouldn't. Dimitri released my dick and cupped both my ass cheeks and squeezed them. "Fuck. You got a nice ass. Small, smooth, compact and firm." He ran a finger up my crack and pressed his fingertip against my hole. "It's going to be a delight fucking you." He laughed as my eyes widened and my heart suddenly stopped beating and sank. "Yeah, that's right. I'm going to fuck you. I've been waiting for this day the moment you rang my doorbell." He reached up and unbuttoned my shirt and ran his hand over my chest, his eyes gleaming with lust and I just stood there like I was frozen, staring like a deer caught in the headlights. Pushing me back onto the bed, he yanked off my pants and underwear, one sock coming off at the same time.

"Now we can do this rough and raw and you won't be able to sit down for the next week, or you can cooperate and we can grease up your little fuck hole and make it less painful for you. Don't matter which way for me. I like it both ways" I believed him. He stepped back and opened the drawer to the night stand beside his bed and took out a tube the size and shape of a toothpaste tube. I had to get out of there, now, pantsless or not!

He ordered me to raise my legs and when I hesitated just a second as I wondered how I was going to get out of the room, he grabbed my ankles and raised my legs and pushed them up and back over my body so my butt was raised off the bed. He twisted me around a bit and then using his left arm and his weight to hold my legs back, he twisted the cap off the tube and wedging the end in my anus he squeezed some of the contents up my rectum. I tried to break away but he had me practically upside down and I had no leverage and he was surprisingly strong. Besides, he knew exactly what he was doing. He squeezed a bit more of the stuff on my anus. It felt warm and greasy. He worked it into my hole with the tip of his index finger, inserting his finger up to the first knuckle and I arched my back but could not break his hold and all I managed to do was impale myself further on his finger.

"Take it easy fuck boy. You'll get your hole stuffed soon enough," he laughed. "With something bigger and much more pleasurable." This could not be happening.

Letting my legs drop, he quickly unbuckled his belt and unsnapped the top of his jeans and pulled down his fly. He pushed his jeans down to mid-thigh and then slipped his hands in his jockey briefs and pushed them down far enough to expose himself. Instead of making my move, I just laid there like a dumb jerk staring at his privates. It was the first time I'd ever looked at another guy's stuff directly. Sure, guys got glimpses of each other when they changed for gym or the pool, or in the showers, but out of the corner of their eyes. You didn't look directly at a guy's stuff, ever! In fact you looked everywhere else but. He was erect, his cock circumcised and the cap markedly mushroom-shaped and dark, the shaft only a slightly lighter swarthy colour like the rest of his skin. His cock was immense, and so were his hairy balls. He squeezed a dollop of the clear gel on the cap and down his shaft, and then tossing the tube on his desk, he smeared the grease over his knob and shaft with his first two fingers and then picked up my underwear and used them to wipe off his fingers. As he approached, his greased cock looked unbelievably huge, at least twenty centimetres long and over two fingers thick, at least seven centimetres longer than mine and way thicker. There was no fucking way that was going to fit up my asshole.

Grabbing my ankles, he raised my legs again and roughly pushed them back and down so my feet were almost touching my head and my butt was raised again off his bed. Holding my legs like that with his left arm, he dropped to his knees on the bed and grasping his cock with his right hand, he directed it toward my anus. As I felt it, hard and hot and greasy, press against my anus, I did what any guy would do–any straight guy–I clamped my anus closed. He continued pushing forward and I clamped down tighter. We grunted and snorted, him trying to get his dick up my ass, me trying to stop him. Slowly I felt the cap of his cock stretching open my anus. He was rock hard and it was as if his dick was made of steel. His dickhead wedged in my hole, he pressed forward relentlessly and I could feel the cap slowly stretching my anus open more. I gritted my teeth and clenched my eyes shut with the excruciating pain and dumb ass that I was I clenched my anus closed all the tighter. Despite my desperation, I could not fight his lust, and the lubrication besides. Slowly the bulb of his cock continued to stretch open my sphincter and then his cap popped inside me and my anus closed behind it about his shaft.

"Oh God, you are so fucking tight! This is going to be fucking beautiful!" I had put up the fight of my life and he was delighted.

That was not how I was feeling about it. He was ecstatic, I was mortified. I had a guy's dickhead up my ass! I was about to be fucked, like a woman! By a guy! To make things even worse, I felt tears welling up in my eyes and they began trickling down my cheeks! Crap, I was crying, like a little baby! In part it was the pain. In a greater part it was the humiliation. I was straight damnit. Straight! Grasping my uplifted legs by the calves, he pushed his hips forward, driving his cock up my ass like a hot knife spearing a block of butter. I could do absolutely nothing about it. Centimetre by centimetre I could feel him penetrating my body. He continued to push until his hairs were pressing against my backside and my rectum was stuffed with his thick, hard cock. It felt like a pole had been shoved deep up my asshole. I was filled with anger at having being penetrated, with humiliation at being used for his pleasure, with shame for engaging in this perverted, sinful act, and with dread what would happen if anyone ever found out, all together.

He slowly drew his hips back, easing his cock back out of my rectum, sending ripples of… of stimulation… through my anus. And then he shoved it in again, sending shards of pain and of arousal through my stretched anus. Pain and arousal. It hurt like hell, but was… stimulating too. Over and over he withdrew and entered me, again and again, each time sending ripples of pain and arousal out from my abused anus. I was getting fucked! Sex is supposed to be pleasurable, even between guys if they are fags, or so everyone said, but I was no fag and I felt no pleasure in being forced to engage in this filthy perversion.

As I lay there, my legs spread and in the air, I kept thinking over and over of that fact, that I was being fucked, that he was using me, using me like a goddamn woman. Doing this had been his goal the day he had approached Mister Whiting to find him a tutor. Of that there was no doubt in my mind. He had no desire to advance his education, and even if he did, he didn't need a tutor. Like I said, he was smart. I was the one who was dumb, dumb to have fallen for this. Mister Whiting was probably one of those who took the same side as my mum. He was kind that way, which made him the type of teacher everyone liked. And so he had been fooled too. Treat the poor, unfortunate boy with kindness and sympathy. He needed our help and understanding. Mister Whiting would be very upset to find out he had been tricked, angry even, but he would never know. I certainly would not be telling him and nor would Dimitri. This was totally dumb. I was lying there being raped and I was thinking of Mister Whiting and glad he would not know he had been used. That was crazy. When people had sex they were supposed to be thinking about doing it.

I thought about what it was like doing it. I was feeling no pleasure, but I was feeling arousal, and as I slowly realized that, I could think of nothing else. My anus burned with irritation, an irritation not unlike the burning feeling one feels around the rim of his cap when he washes it. The same feeling. Despite my anger and humiliation, I began to become erect. Being fourteen years of age, becoming erect was not a new experience. I found myself in that condition frequently upon waking up, and whenever I thought about the girls in my class and fantasized making out with them. As I had said earlier, smart guys are not all that popular with girls, and I knew most of them considered me a nerd and would never go out with me let alone have sex with me. I don't know why, but I thought about that as I lay there on my back, my legs spread and above my head and a guy's pecker pumping in and out of my ass. Well, screw them. Who needed them? I was having sex without them. God that was dumb. If they had despised me before, I wondered what they would think of me now if they knew I'd been had by a guy, had like a girl. I knew what the guys thought of me and what they would think now. God, why was this happening to me?

Dimitri was panting heavily by then and was thrusting his cock in and out of my burning asshole furiously. My own cock was swollen and numb and gradually I felt a familiar pressure developing in my loins and a familiar ache at the base of my cock. I tried to quell the sensations, but the more I fought them the stronger they became. Now of all times! That was ridiculous! This whole experience was ridiculous! It was sick. I tried desperately to ignore the sensations, which just seemed to magnify the need all the more until I knew I was not going to be able to hold it back. Any guy reading this knows what I mean. Once you think of it you can't think of anything else. Why now!

"Stop!" I gasped, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Please! Please," I begged. "I have to pee! Bad! I … I can't hold it back! Oh crap!" My pecker was jutting out above me, pointing right at me.

As if voicing my need was the acknowledgement my body was waiting for, I felt the familiar burn suddenly begin racing up the core of my cock! No! God not now! My heart leaped in my chest and I stared helplessly up at my stiff cock jutting out above my head as the burn reached my opening. To my total surprise, what gushed out was not what I thought it was going to be! It was white and gooey, like the white of a poached egg, not yellow, and it shot out in spurts rather than flowed in a steady stream. As the hot, gooey slime spattered my shirt and began to soak into it, I realized it had to be my semen, the first ever to leave my body. My peehole burned and my stiff cock throbbed hotly. Oh God, I was spraying my shirt and my chest with my stuff! Spurt after spurt erupted from my stiff cock and my cock jerked and throbbed and burned with the pleasure of my first ejaculation, recoiling with each blast of semen like a shotgun. That thought and the shock of the first release of my juice caused me to snort with laughter. Bam! Bam! Bam! I was shooting myself with shots of hot, slimy semen. God my peehole was on fire and my dickhead felt wicked! The force of my ejaculation subsided and my slime began to ooze out and land on my body in hot, slimy globs, and finally it hung in a slimy thread from the tip of my cock with a pearly white-translucent globule at the end. I laid there gasping and panting and staring at my cock, at my semen, my cheeks flushed and hot and feeling like they were sunburnt. Holy crap!

And then Dimitri trembled and gasped. I had totally forgotten about him. As I felt his stuff spurting up my rectum, I realized I was gasping just as hard as he was, or was it he who was gasping as hard as me? He grasped me tightly and groaned and sighed with his pleasure as he rammed his thick cock up my asshole as far as he could and he filled my rectum with his hot, thick semen. He grunted and gasped and snorted as he spurted his stuff deep up my ass, as he filled me with his slime, filled me like a man fills a woman. It took forever. Throb, spurt, throb, spurt, throb, spurt. My orgasm had been so fast. I could feel his hot, thick semen spurting up my rectum and I imagined it mixing with my shit. My stiff cock was leaking more of my own stuff and the pendant broke to land in a blob on my belly, another pendant quickly forming to take its place. I lay there in a daze. I had been fucked and filled with a guy's slime like a girl, and I had come, I had come for the first time in my life. He finally drew back his hips, drawing his cock out of my rectum. It exited with a pop and a foul puff of air. He sat back and looked down at me for the longest time.

"Was that the first time you've cum?" he asked huskily, his broad, hairy chest still heaving with exertion, his eyes now slanted with lust.

"Yes," I replied in a whisper, guessing he was referring to my ejaculation. I lowered my legs and lay there spread-eagled. My legs were aching painfully, like I'd just done four laps around the track.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, staring down at me, his eyes gleaming. "That was a fantastic piece of ass. A fucking virgin, an all the way around virgin, an asshole that's never been fucked, and a boy who's never cum! Never cum!" he repeated, shaking his head. "Fucking awesome! It's been a fucking long time since I've had a piece of ass so good."

He slipped back off the bed and stood and I slowly sat up, embarrassed and ashamed. His cock was still erect and smeared with my ass slime and his semen and a pendant of his semen hung from the tip. His huge balls were swollen and drawn up tight beneath his cock. My cock was still stiff also and I noticed for the first time my balls were swollen and drawn up into a tight ball too, like they do when they get cold. A streamer of my slime hung from the tip of my cock. I became conscious of a thick blob of my stuff oozing down my stomach and into my hairs. Plucking a couple sheets of tissue out of the box on his desk, he wiped off his cock and holding the tissue over his cap he squeezed his cock and drew his fist up the shaft several times, squeezing out the remainder of his semen. Tossing the sodden tissue into his wastepaper basket, he tossed the Kleenex box at me and then stood there watching as I wiped the gobs of semen off my body, off my shirt and chest and stomach. It was wet and sticky and the sodden Kleenex stuck to my fingers. My stuff had soaked into my shirt and it stuck in my hairs like glue and was impossible to wipe up. I gingerly wiped off the tip of my swollen cock and grimaced with the sharp pleasure that pierced my bulb and caused me to tense. It was painful, but it was pleasurable too.

He began to get dressed, so I did also. Embarrassed to hell and feeling dirty, I stepped into my underwear and pulled them up. I felt the grease he had wiped off his fingers and my briefs stuck to my butt. Another dollop of my stuff oozed out of my cock, now half hard and half soft, and I felt it spread over my stomach and through my hairs, hot and wet and sticky. I put on my trousers and zipped them back up and tucked my shirt in and buttoned it as he sat on the edge of his desk and watched me, a smile of satisfaction on his lips but with that same scarey look in his eyes. There were dark blotches where my slime had soaked into my shirt and my underwear was stuck to my stomach. My asshole felt wet and sore and very empty and I imagined his semen oozing out of my hole and soaking into my underwear.

"You don't look very happy for a guy who's just lost his virginity," he observed. My cheeks felt as if they were on fire and he laughed but it was not a cheerful laugh. "I know, it was too awesome to describe. See you Thursday fuck boy."

Staring at the floor, I grabbed my books and left quickly without a word. My underwear stuck to my body, especially along my crack, and my hole felt like it was gaping wide open and leaking. With what? With his slime or with my blood? Or my shit? There seemed to be a lot of it and I imagined the worst. Unable to ride, I pushed my bike and with each step I could feel the semen that had spattered across my stomach and that had oozed out into my hairs when I'd gotten dressed, my semen. It was wet and cold. I glanced down at my shirt and at the wet spots. I had to get home. I had to have a shower. I pedalled my bike, standing up, my asshole leaking.

I made it into my house and to my room without anyone seeing me. Tossing my books on my desk, I went into the bathroom and stripped and had a long hot shower. I soaped myself up repeatedly, especially my stomach and hairs and my chest and ass crack, but I still felt filthy. The first time I soaped up my ass crack my fingers came away red and the water pooling about my feet was pink. I soaped and rinsed my hole repeatedly with steaming hot water until I ran out of hot water. The water still had a hint of pink. I dried myself off, using toilet paper to dry my anus so as not to get any blood on the towel. It came away bloody. I tossed my underwear, shirt and pants into the laundry hamper and prayed the stains would dry and my mother wouldn't notice them.

Mom had called me several times for lunch. Folding several squares of toilet paper, I gingerly placed them over my anus and carefully put on a clean pair of underwear and joined my family. I ate my sandwiches without tasting them and didn't hear a word of their conversation. I have no idea what I ate. My anus burned with pain and I shifted my weight uncomfortably, sure I could feel my blood running down my leg and imagining it forming a pool about my feet. I imagined myself sitting there at the dining room table and bleeding to death from my anus. My parents could tell I was distracted and uncomfortable and kept asking if I was feeling all right and if anything was wrong. How does a guy tell his mom and dad and his younger brother and sister he'd been raped that morning, that he'd been used as a girl, and… and that he had enjoyed it so much he had ejaculated? That I had been used was bad enough, but having come? Being raped? What sort of guy was I?

I could think of nothing else for the rest of the day. I checked myself several times that afternoon and evening and the bleeding was not as bad as it seemed and eventually stopped. I checked the laundry hamper and tried to blot out the stains, but I just made them worse. I prayed Mom would just dump them in the washing machine and not notice. I tossed and turned all night, feeling the pain in my asshole, reliving the whole experience of being raped, of having another guy's cock up my ass, his semen spurting up my rectum, me spurting my stuff all over myself. I wanted to die. In the morning I checked myself out again, as best as a guy can check out his asshole, holding Dad's shaving mirror behind my butt. My asshole hurt like hell when I crapped, and there was a swirl of blood in the toilet and a smear of blood when I wiped myself. I could not see any semen. Where did it go? Did a guy's semen get absorbed into another guy's body? Were his sperm swimming around now in my blood? My arms and legs turned to gooseflesh and I could not get the thought out of my head. My anus burned like it had been skinned raw, and from what I could see in the mirror, it had. I went through the day in a daze and couldn't recall a single thing that happened at school, and I could not concentrate on my homework that evening. I did not sleep much the next night, unable to put what had happened out of my mind, thinking of everything we said and did, how it had felt having his hot hand cupping my asscheeks, his fingers cupping my balls, the pain of being penetrated, the surprise and embarrassment of cumming all over myself, feeling him filling my rectum with his stuff, how weird it felt shooting my stuff. That was the worst part of it all. Why had I done that? I did not sleep much the next night, nor each night thereafter.

When I'd gone home that Sunday I'd sworn I would never return to Dimitri's house again, but that Thursday found me pushing my bike up their walkway. I had been definite I would not return again, right up to that day, right up to when I left school that afternoon, but all along I knew deep inside that I would. Why I would, I do not know. I just knew I would. It made no sense.

His mother met me at the door, as she had the previous Thursday, and told me Dimitri was in his room. I wondered what she would think of me if she knew what I had done, what she would think if she knew her son and I had sex with each other last Sunday while she and her husband and their younger son were at church. At least it would not happen this time, not with her in the house. Maybe that was why I had returned, knowing that, knowing it would be safe. It was at least a bit of relief, the first relief I'd felt since last Sunday. When he didn't bother closing the door to his room, I began breathing a bit easier. No way would we do anything with his door open. My relief was short lived. Sixty seconds. Less.

"I knew you'd be back," he said with a slight smile as I stepped over to him where he sat at his desk. "Let's forget the math lesson and get it on. I haven't been able to think of anything else but last Sunday. It's been a long time since I had a fuck that hot. I bet you haven't been able to think of anything else either." He had that right, though not for the same reason. "I wanna do it standing this time, in front of the dresser so I can see us in the mirror." I looked at him unbelievingly. Good God, his mother was downstairs! True, she never came to his room after that very first time with the milk and cookies, and she stopped hovering around out in the hallway after the second time, but the door was wide open, and there was nothing stopping her from coming in, or hearing us. She'd have to hear us! "Com'on fuck boy, drop your pants and underwear," he said, unzipping his fly and pushing his jeans and underwear down and stepping out of them.

I could have left then and there. He was stripped from the waist down and I was closer to the door. All I had to do was get into the hallway. There was no way he was going to come after me without his pants and underwear on. And if he tried to stop me, all I had to do was call out and his mother would come. But I didn't. I put down my books and undoing my belt and pulling down my fly, I pushed my jeans and underwear down. When he told me to take them right off so I could spread my legs and make it easier for him to penetrate me, I did. I stood there in just my shirt and socks facing his dresser and I spread my legs like some wanton slut as he stepped up behind me. He kissed me on the cheeks and nibbled my ear as he put his arms about my waist. As he licked my ear, my cock began to swell. Good God, what was happening?

"Ah-ha, you like that, do you?" he asked with a leer. He turned me around and kissed me, on the lips, and slipping his fingers about my limp cock he slipped his tongue into my mouth. My cock began to swell faster. He reached down with his other hand and guided my fingers over to his cock and as he swirled his tongue about mine his cock began to swell in my hand also. We kissed, this time with more passion, and as he began to caress my buttocks and slipped his tongue in my mouth again I found myself becoming more and more aroused.

"Lube me," he said, handing me the tube of gel, and I took it and squeezed out a generous dollop and smeared the grease over his bulb and his shaft, remembering the pain the first time and being sure I coated his dickhead thoroughly. "And yourself, fuck boy." I ran my greased fingers along my ass crack and rubbed them against my hole. "Go ahead, stick your fingers up your ass. If you get it good and greasy it won't hurt so much." I did, slowly inserting first my index finger, and then my middle finger, and then both up my rectum. Anything to make it less painful. "That's it, finger fuck yourself you little slut." My cock rose up in the air. "You are a horny fuck boy, aren't you," he said with a leer. "Finger fucking yourself turning you on, or is it the thought of my big cock up your ass?" My cheeks burned with embarrassment. "Or is it remembering our last fuck and looking forward to the next one?" I glanced at my face in the mirror. My cheeks were a bright red with embarrassment and shame, but my cock was standing straight up. What sort of sicko was I?

Stepping up behind me, he told me to keep looking in the mirror and he looked over my shoulder as he reached down and placed the tip of his cock against my anus. Grasping my hips, he slowly began to push forward and this time, instead of resisting, which I knew was futile and would only hurt, I opened up my anus. "You are a horny little slut, opening your asshole up for me you're so eager to have my cock in you," he teased, causing me to turn all the redder. "One fuck and you're opening up like a little cock-loving whore." I was opening up, and telling him why would just sound like an excuse. So we stood there, both of us watching my face in the mirror as his cockhead slowly stretched open my sphincter until it popped inside. I could not help feeling relieved the pain was so much less. "You like that, don't you? Feels good once the knob is inside you, don't it fuck boy?" he whispered in my ear, having noticed the change in my expression. "I asked you a question," he said calmly as he pinched my right nipple.

"Yes!" I yelped in pain.

A smile of satisfaction curled the right corner of his mouth. He ever so slowly continued to push forward until once again his coarse hairs were pressed against my buttocks and his huge, thick cock was solidly up my rectum. We had united much more smoothly this time but his cock was thick and I was tight and it was still painful.

And so we stood there stripped from the waist down and he took me a second time. He grasped my hips and slowly began pumping his to and fro, sliding his slick cock in and out of my rectum, causing it to burn with irritation and arousal, the same irritation and arousal as I felt around the rim of the bulb of my erect cock. Each time he thrust forward the bulb of his cock brushed against a tender spot up my rectum that caused a thrill of arousal to shoot up the core of my cock and caused my erection to jerk, which of course he noticed and observed how much I was enjoying getting my ass fucked I was wagging my tail and causing me to blush all the more. He nibbled the back of my neck and my cheeks, and he reached up and caressed my chest and tweaked my nipples, causing them to burn with the same sensation as I was feeling circling my anus and my bulb and causing them to become firm. He told me to stroke myself and he asked how often I jerked off and I looked away with embarrassment when I told I didn't do it and he said I was too sweet and innocent to be true and that I was the first fourteen-year-old he had ever met that didn't play with himself, but he knew I was too honest to lie to him.

He told me to stop stroking my dick because he wanted me to come just from being fucked, just like I did the first time we did it, and he asked if I remembered how that had been and I nodded and he asked if I had liked it and I found myself nodding again before I realized it. Well, I knew that was what he wanted me to say, and physically, it had felt good once you got over the pain, so admitting it was no biggie. We were both breathing more heavily now and I watched myself being fucked in the mirror. That was strange. I felt somehow detached, like I was watching a movie and two actors, not myself. I wasn't gay! I wasn't!

He was a good head and a half taller than I was, and his arms and legs and chest were matted with black hair whereas I just had the beginning tufts of pit hair. You could really tell the difference in our ages. I concentrated on the burning sensation of my anus and when he told me to play with my nipples I did so, eager for the painful pleasure of stimulating my teats like one is eager for the relief in scratching a mosquito bite. I concentrated on his cock pumping in and out of my rectum and I recalled how it felt being filled with his stuff, and when I thought of that I felt the pressure building up in my loins, but this time I knew it was not because I had to piss. I recalled how it had felt, that first time, and the pressure increased. Being fucked filled me with shame and revulsion, but I wanted to come, I wanted to feel the pleasure of spurting again as embarrassing and as humiliating as it was being fucked. That was sick when I put it that way.

And then I felt my stuff gushing up the core of my numb, swollen cock, and I watched in the mirror of the dresser as I came. I sprayed the mirror and the top of his dresser with gobs of my stuff. Squirt after squirt after squirt came shooting out of my erect cock and my peehole burned and I felt dizzy. It was hot watching my stuff spurting out of my cock. "Lick it up," he ordered, bending me over and twisting my arm behind my back, pressing my face against the mirror. I stuck out my tongue and licked up the blob of slime oozing down the mirror, having no choice. It was bitter and tart and revoltingly slimy and for some reason reminded me of snot which made me gag. Blushing with shame, I moved on to other blobs, sucking my own slime into my mouth, off the mirror and off the dresser top. While I was doing so he came, filling my rectum with his own slime, spurt after spurt shooting up my rectum as I stood there bent over, my cheeks and lips smeared with my semen, globs of my goo stuck to the roof of my mouth and my tongue. It was disgusting and being fucked while I did it even more disgusting. It took him forever and I quivered with the thought of his sperm swimming up my rectum. I sucked up another blob of my gunk as he filled my rectum with his hot goo, my own cock stiff and dripping with my cum. Sex, I thought, is hot and sticky.

At last he pulled his cock out, again with a pop and puff of foul air. Turning me around and pushing me to my knees, he roughly pulled my head back by the hair with one hand and stroked his swollen cock with the other. Ordering me to open my mouth he milked his cock, squeezing out his slime into my gaping mouth to join my own slime. "Suck me dry," he ordered huskily, looking down at me with leering, slanted eyes. He could not be serious. Still holding onto my hair, he gave my head a painful yank. I looked at his filthy cock smeared with his semen and my ass slime and my shit. No way! He slapped my face, hard, jerking my head to the side and pulling my hair out by the roots. He slapped my face in the other direction. Opening my mouth and closing my eyes and fighting back the urge to gag and the urge to cry, I slipped my lips over his dick and sucked, draining his filthy cock and his balls of his slime like a baby eagerly sucking his mother's tit, his cock tasting of cock and semen and shit. I had no choice. My mouth filled with spittle and I swallowed, the fear of what he would do if I puked overcoming my impulse to gag. I sucked for a long time, until I could draw out no more.

"I figured you to be a fag boy the moment I saw you," he said when at last we were done. "You have a suit and tie?"

"Ah, no," I replied, surprised at the question. It was hard to talk with the inside of my mouth coated with slime.

"White shirt, dress pants?"

"Yeah."

"Wear them on Sunday, and be here at nine, sharp." I reached for the box of Kleenex to wipe off my lips and cheeks. "Leave it. It's good moisturizer for your skin. Prevents zits besides." Opening his drawer, he gave me a tube of ointment, telling me it would speed up the healing of my asshole.

I doubted that but I didn't argue. I dressed and left, thankful his mother wasn't in the hallway. Only an hour had gone by, but he had still paid me forty dollars. I felt like a whore. I also felt sick. Getting off my bike several houses up the street, I bent over the fence and puked in their flowerbed. My puke was slimy and thin, like eggwhite, and sour and hung off my lower lip. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand and heaved even though there was noting left in my stomach. I brushed my teeth and rinsed my mouth out with half a bottle of mouthwash and I had another long, hot shower. I still felt filthy and my mouth was filled with a taste of peppermint-flavoured cock, semen and shit.

The following Sunday my mother and father were surprised to find me up early, and all dressed up in a white shirt and all. I figured they would be and I told them I was working on a joint project for school. They immediately figured my partner was a girl, which was what I had expected, and they glanced at each other as if sharing some big, happy secret. Sometimes parents can be so transparent. They thankfully didn't ask who I was meeting. If they knew what I'd been doing on my Sundays and who I was meeting they would not be smiling.

Mrs. Savalos answered the door and was surprised to see me also for as far as she knew I only came on Thursdays. She was even more surprised when Dimitri said he and I were joining her in church that morning, and I could see in her eyes that she could not believe what she had heard, and was immensely overjoyed almost to the point of tears. I could not believe what I had heard either. For the first time since I had begun my supposed tutoring I met his father and his sixteen-year-old brother Nikos, his family having still been in church on the Sundays I had been over, and his father not yet being home from work on Thursdays and his brother, I discovered, having basketball practice after school on those days. His father and brother were as surprised as his mother and I saw what looked like a glimmer of hope in his father's eyes. Dimitri looked very smart, clean shaven and his hair trimmed, and wearing a suit and tie. He was a handsome man, the type you saw in magazine ads for expensive clothes. He had an expensive jacket for me that fit surprisingly well. Considering I was a lot thinner than he was, or even his younger brother, I wondered whose it was.

On the way to the church Dimitri told me he had initially begun taking adult learning classes to pick up his Grade 9 where he had left off when he had returned home but it had not worked and after three weeks he had quit. He told his father that he had approached Saint Joseph's and the school had recommended me to help him with his math and I had been doing so the last two Sundays. He also said that it had been my idea that we attend church together to help him come to terms with what he called his "other issues" and that we could study afterward. I caught the look on his father's face in the rearview mirror as he glanced at Dimitri and then at me and there was no question his father was pleased. Dimitri looked at me with a look I can only describe as admiration as he reached over and stroked my thigh despite his brother sitting there beside me. If his brother noticed, and I don't see how he could not, he didn't show it and stared straight ahead or out the window the whole trip and said nothing, as if he was trying to ignore my very presence. I could not ignore Dimitri's hand and by the time we arrived at the church I had a prominent boner that I was sure everyone could see.

My family is Catholic but not particularly religious so my familiarity with church services has pretty much been limited to marriages and funerals and a couple baptisms. Dimitri's family on the other hand are big church goers and we were met at the church by his older brothers and sisters and their families. The church was packed and Dimitri used every chance he had to brush his knee against mine, or when we stood to sing to slip his fingers between my fingers and you could see in his eyes his thoughts were not on the sermon. Nor were mine and I had an erection throughout the entire service. In church of all places! After services we said goodbye to his brothers and sisters and although they had acted casual about my presence I could tell they were surprised and concerned. They had been staring at me ever since we arrived and I knew they had to be wondering what I was really doing there and were certainly not buying Dimitri's story. As he was leaving, I overheard Dimitri's older brother, Alexandros, whisper to his father that his father knew I wasn't to associate with anyone under eighteen, but his father said not to worry and that it was all right. I suspected every one of them was suspecting the same thing which made me blush with embarrassment even though nobody else said anything.

After lunch, which Mrs. Savalos fussed over and during which she kept encouraging me to eat more, Dimitri and I went to his room to work on his mathematics. I could tell his father objected but he didn't say anything. Needless to say, I was worried as heck, so worried my stomach hurt. Surely Dimitri was going to start with the sex stuff, and if his father came walking in, like his mother had the first time we'd met and caught us at it, well, all hell would break loose. Just as I suspected, his father stepped up to the door fifteen minutes later and asked if everything was all right and if we needed anything, and from the catch in his voice I knew he was as worried and as nervous as I was. Dimitri coldly and sharply said everything was fine, and that he needed to concentrate, implying not to interrupt us again. I would never dare talk to my father in that tone, not even if I was as old as Dimitri. His father didn't interrupt us again, but like with Dimitri's mother the first time, I had the impression that he was hovering in the hallway and listening for the slightest hint we were doing something other than studying.

To my dismay, we were. While we sat there side by side at his desk Dimitri reached over and stroked my thigh, and once I got an erection again, he began to stroke it through my trousers and my underwear. Scared that he was going to do more, I took a while to get aroused, but eventually the physical stimulation overrode my fears. I finally whispered to him that he had better stop or something was going to happen, and he whispered back that he hoped something would happen and he bent over and kissed me on the lips. I whispered back that I was serious and I wasn't going to be able to hold back, and he said "then don't." He kissed me again, this time inserting his tongue in my mouth and sliding it over my tongue.

I had no choice. To my horror I felt the twang deep in my loins and my stuff burn up the core of my cock for the third time in eight days. It flooded down my left thigh, hot and wet, spurt after spurt like it would never end. I glanced down and could see a dark spot spreading out where it was soaking into my trousers. Dimitri grinned and then took my hand and placed it on the long, hard tube bulging down along his right thigh. And so we sat there doing permutations and combinations as I stroked him off and he creamed his trousers. I could feel his big, fat cock throbbing through the cloth, and I was sure I could smell the unique fragrance of fresh cum that I had come to recognize. To my relief nobody was in the hallway when I left, and nobody saw me before I made it to the bathroom at home. By then I was sure my stuff had leaked all the way down my leg and I expected to find a big puddle of cum, but most of it had soaked into one large wet patch along the inner thigh of my jeans.

I debated about hiding the jacket Dimitri had insisted I take home with me, but there was really no place that my mother wouldn't discover it, so I hung it out in the open and when she asked I said it was a gift, and that I had gone to church. That created quite a fuss, which I should have expected, and my mother and father wanted to know all about this girl and her family and just what sort of project we were working on, which caused me to get all red and flustered with embarrassment, which was not an act, and it ended with my dad joking that if she got me to go to church with her that couldn't be a bad thing, but he expected me to finish high school before getting married. They ended up having quite a chuckle over the whole thing and I felt relieved, but I felt bad about having lied to them, something I've never done before meeting Dimitri.

Thursday we got right into it as soon as I entered his room. Unbuttoning the top of his jeans and pulling down his fly, Dimitri ordered me to drop to my knees and suck him off while he worked on his math problems. Although his mother had never entered his room or even hung nearby after that first time, now that the family knew I was there tutoring him I wasn't so sure she'd stay out, but I also knew I had no choice but to do as he had ordered, and that if I angered him he could order me to do something even riskier. So I dropped to my knees and took his cock in my mouth and began to suck. At least this time he hadn't had it up my ass first. I could not believe I just had that thought. At least this time…. What sort of sicko pervert was I becoming?

As I sucked, I thought back to the first time we had sex, the Sunday morning he had raped me three weeks ago, and I thought back to the first time I had his cock in my mouth, the next Thursday after he had fucked my ass. Three weeks. Three weeks ago I had been like any other guy, thinking about girls and wondering what it would be like to do stuff with them. Despite the locker room talk, I knew most of my classmates at Saint Joseph's hadn't made out yet. Yet. Some quite likely had, and others were likely close. Three weeks. Now there I was, kneeling on the floor and sucking a guy's cock. Three weeks ago my biggest problem was being bullied to share my homework and teased for being a nerd and being smart. Now I was being forced to have sex with a guy and worrying about being found out.

After a bit Dimitri pushed his work away and leaned back, his eyes closed. He was breathing hard and beginning to squirm. He suddenly inhaled sharply and arched his back and I knew what was about to happen. His hot, thick slime shot down my throat and my arms and legs turned to gooseflesh. When he was done, he told me to sit beside him and explain the next section in the textbook as if what we had just done had been perfectly normal. As I sat there watching him solving the problem, his goo stuck to the roof of my mouth and my tongue, I wondered how anyone could possibly like doing what I had just done, how anyone could possibly do it willingly. I could not think of anything filthier or more perverted than having a guy's cock in your mouth. Well, besides having a guy shoot his stuff in your mouth. I wanted to gag but I knew I dared not and as I fought the impulse I lost focus on what we were doing.

"Can't concentrate, huh fuck boy?" Dimitri asked with a knowing grin. "Thinking how great it is having my big cock spurting in your mouth and hot to do it again."

Half an hour later he told me I had suffered long enough and ordered me to give him another blow job. I looked at him pleadingly but I knew there was nothing I could say or do to change his mind. I dropped to my knees and reached out and raised his limp cock. He hadn't bothered pulling up his pants or briefs. Holding it at the base, I slipped my lips over the bulb. He told me to go all the way down on it, down to his hairs. He was limp but still close to ten centimetres long but I managed to do it. As I sucked on his limp sausage it quickly began to swell and I had to slip my lips up the shaft. He laughed and told me when I went home to practice sucking a banana because he expected me to eventually take it all in, to deep throat him he called it.

And so while he completed his math exercise I knelt there and sucked him off a second time. It took him longer to come and my jaws, and my knees, were getting sore. I ran my tongue over the rim of his knob, hoping to stimulate him and bring this to an end, and he laughed and said it hadn't taken me long to like the taste of cock and that I was becoming a real cock-sucking fag boy. I didn't care. It did the trick and it wasn't long before he was squirming. Just before he came, he pulled his cock back and told me to catch his slime in my mouth and to be sure I didn't swallow any of it. His second load was just as copious but a bit thicker. He had me hold it in my mouth while he finished his last math exercise, and then swallow it while he watched. He smirked and reminded me to practice with a banana for next Sunday.

As soon as I was out of his house I began spitting and as soon as I reached the house with the picket fence I leaned over it and puked all over their flowers and wiped the slime off my lips and chin with the back of my hand. I continued spitting as I continued on my way but his thick goo stuck to my gums and my teeth and I could taste his cock and his cum all the way home. Even though I brushed several times and used the other half bottle of mouthwash, I could not cleanse the taste from my mind nor erase the memory of what I had done. I could not sleep and laid awake most of the night. I couldn't keep doing this, I just couldn't, but how was I going to stop it? He certainly wouldn't stop just by my asking. If I stopped going to his house he'd track me down. That wouldn't be difficult. Suppose he came to my house and forced me to do him in my bedroom. My mother and father wouldn't stay out of my room like his parents did. As it was they were going to continue wondering about this special school project I was working on, and wanting to meet my partner. How was I going to explain my absences every Thursday and Sunday this summer? That was only six weeks away! I was exhausted when Mom called me to get up and I dragged myself through the day miserable as hell and unable to concentrate on my school work, which everyone noticed. I could have died of embarrassment, and wished I would. After school I stopped by at the corner grocery and bought some bananas.

Chapter 4
Lucas's Initiation

Nine-year-old Lucas has been told to never be alone with his uncle Dimitri, but inadvertently left behind while on an outing he joins his two younger cousins who witness a darker side of their uncle when Lucas refuses to play their sex games.

Characters: Dimitri (22yo), Domi and Marcus (7yo), Lucas (9yo)

Lucas Mueller had his father's strong Germanic looks: sharp blue eyes, high cheekbones, and square chin. His hair was nut-brown instead of blond like his father's, the influence of his mother's inheritance, and he had her long, feathery eyelashes. His hair was shaved and dyed darker along the sides and the back, and the top was longer with blond highlights. Very nice. Very sexy. He was athletic, like his parents, one of the strongest players on the school soccer team and a fair racquetball player. You could see the muscle in his legs and in his chest and arms, but he was only nine years of age-nine years and nine months to be exact-and still lacked the definition and tone that comes with puberty. Dimitri's cock twitched as he studied the boy.

He would not be tempted by simply appealing to his curiosity nor tempted by forbidden fruit like his two younger cousins. Domi had been particularly easy. Curious, totally innocent and trusting, and having his father's devilishness, he was intrigued by the unknown, especially if it was of the forbidden nature, and easily enticed. His cousin Marcus was a lot like his mother, Dimitri's sister. Bright, cheerful, fun-loving, naive and gregarious, he quickly succumbed to the pleasure of the flesh and readily joined his uncle and his cousin in exploring more pleasures. The two boys were also too young to be told why their parents had fears about Dominic and why they didn't want them to be alone with him. They were in Grade One and ignorant of the dangers he presented. Lucas was in Grade Four. The three-year difference made all the difference in the world when it came to awareness of the evils that exist.

Lucas didn't know exactly what "bad" things had happened to Dominic, but he knew it had something to do with sex, which didn't involve him since he had totally no interest in that sort of stuff. Older guys were though, and they talk and younger brothers overhear and are eager to share anything secret from the adult world, particularly if it is something dirty or would gross girls out. For Lucas, his parents had warned him about never being alone with his uncle, and that was enough and he didn't need to know anything else. He was mature enough and wise enough to know when he should heed his parents' warnings and when he could push the margins. From the tone of their voices this was not a margin to be pushed. Besides, there was something about Dimitri, something he could not put his finger on, but something that frightened him.

Dimitri could see the apprehension in the boy's eyes, and noticed the boy never took his eyes off him for long, and was always within the sight of an adult, an adult other than Dimitri that is. He could also see the curiosity in the boy's eyes, and he knew the lure of the forbidden and the unknown in the boy's young mind. In that all boys were alike unless they were total wimps, and a wimp Lucas was not. Some boys had simply been indoctrinated more strongly than others, but Dimitri knew how to get past that. He had been trained by the masters for the past eight years. Dimitri could feel the desire building in his chest and he delighted in it.

The combination of fear mixed with temptation and the challenge of overcoming his resistance and breaking through his parents' protective shield was what made Lucas so much more desirable than his two younger cousins, so much more. Dimitri had found the two younger boys amusing and enjoyable, much like a cat enjoys playing with a mouse, in the same category as he placed his adolescent math tutor, playthings for his amusement. Lucas on the other hand was something desirable, something that would be much more delicious in the taking. Whereas Domi had his father's jet black hair and dark good looks, and Marcus had his mother's delicate, cherubic fine features, Lucas had something that was much deeper than appearance, he had a spirit that needed to be tempered until it had the proper degree of hardness and toughness, like steel, and Dimitri was a skilled craftsman when it came to hardening young boys.

Reaching down to stop the beach ball, Lucas used the movement to glance over at Dimitri out of the corner of his eye. He was right. Dimitri was definitely watching him, and the look on his face was frightening. It was a hungry look, the type of look you saw on a guy's face when he had a chance to score a winning goal in soccer, or on the face of a guy looking at a new video game that just came out in the store. It was a frightening look, but alluring too. He was nine, going to be ten, and going to be in Grade Five soon. He wasn't a kid, and the world of adults was beckoning. His arms turned to gooseflesh and he looked away as he bounced the beach ball back to his little sister.

It was his mother's thirty-third birthday and the family was at Chestermere Lake celebrating. They were all there, Nonna and Nonno, his mother's three brothers and two sisters and their wives and husbands or their dates, his two younger sisters, and his two younger cousins. His mother and his aunt Sofia were swollen with child and he wondered if they would have a boy or a girl and what it must be like to have a baby inside you. Everyone made a big fuss over them and was so concerned about them, as if they were made of glass. Well, perhaps everyone except his uncle Dimitri. He didn't seem to be concerned about anyone.

Actually, unbeknownst to any of them, behind that blank, dispassionate stare, was a black cloud of hatred. Women that pregnant should be at home and their condition hidden beneath bulky sweaters and robes, not in revealing clothes and out in the open where everyone could see their condition. Of all places, they didn't belong on the beach with their swollen bellies, vulgarly showing off their fertility and the virility of their husbands, flaunting it in everyone's faces. There was only one way to get bellies like that, and that was by being fucked repeatedly until they got knocked up. They had no shame.

Dimitri turned his attention to his kid brother Nikos and his girlfriend Elaina. They could not keep their eyes off each other, nor their hands. He wondered if they were making out. Nikos was sixteen now, sixteen and a half, darkly handsome, athletic and at ease talking to girls. He had all the necessary attributes for a guy to make out, and he had to be randy at that age. He'd love to arrange for them to be home alone some night and to set up a cam recorder to record them in the act. There was a big market for videos of horny, handsome teenage boys banging their big-boobed girlfriends, and Elaina had nice boobs. He could make good use of the video himself. For starters he'd show it to his tutor. The kid would probably cream his jeans watching it. Dimitri maintained a blank expression as he smiled to himself at the image.

And then there was his twenty-four-year-old sister Anna and her boyfriend Romano. They were engaged and oh so in love. They had to be doing it. Nobody waited until marriage anymore. Himself, he would love to get it on with Romano. Give it to him up the ass. He was too old for his likes, but getting it on with his sister's fiance while they were dating would be wicked. He could imagine Anna being brought home by Romano after a hot date, Romano all rosy cheeked and flushed after making out with her in the backseat, the two of them kissing goodnight, and then as Anna stepped inside slipping out of the bushes before Romano drove away and forcing him into the backseat and fucking him, right there where he'd fucked Anna, maybe lying in the wet spot they'd left from their screw. Maybe he'd get him drunk on his wedding night and while his sister was laying in bed in the honeymoon suite waiting for him he'd lure him away and fuck him up the ass first. That would be wicked, his fucking his bride with his ass full of another man's sperm.

Dimitri turned his attention back to Lucas. That was who he really wanted. When the boy glanced at him again, he slowly spread his legs. The boy stood there, his attention caught for a moment before he looked away. The right leg of Dimitri's trousers was bulging out with the boner he had popped thinking about Romano. The boy had to have noticed he had a hardon. Kids that age noticed, and his was of a size that was impossible to hide. Fuck, the boy was making him so fucking horny he deserved to be screwed.

His brother-in-law John, Maria's husband, had brought his boat of course. He'd bought it last year and it was his and Maria's prized possession. The two of them along with his brother Alex and his wife and Anna and Romano were heading over to the public dock for a spin on the lake. His sister Sofia suffered car sickness and got violently sick on the water, even a little lake like Chestermere, and in her condition it was even worse so she had declined and was headed down to the beach with her husband Anthony to catch some sun. His parents had headed up to the shade with their three granddaughters, Maria's two little girls and Sophia's daughter, and Nikos, who had been trying to teach his two younger nephews, Domi and Marcus, how to skateboard, at the same time showing off to Elaina, wandered off hand in hand with his girlfriend in search of a secluded spot for a little necking. Dimitri glanced from one group to the next in surprise and his heart began pumping faster as it rose in his chest. They were leaving the three boys behind, each thinking they were with someone else. Dimitri knew the unwritten rule about never leaving the boys alone with him and could not believe his good fortune.

The three boys loved riding in the boat, as all boys their age did, and could run after Lucas's parents any moment, and they liked playing in the sand and splashing around in the water and it was an exceptionally hot day for the middle of May, so they could be tempted to head after Sofia and Anthony, and of course all three loved being with their grandparents, though the presence of Lucas's two sisters made that the least likely choice. Dimitri had an idea that would be much more fun than the other three choices, and there was a very good chance it could happen given the secret he shared with the two younger boys, but he had to be careful he didn't spook Lucas, and he had to act fast before the boys chose one of the other choices. He got up and stepped toward the three boys. Domi and Marcus flashed him a big smile, and seeing the bulge in his trousers, they grinned at each other and flashed him an even bigger smile. Dimitri smiled back. They were his.

"So, looks like everyone is taking off to do their favourite thing. What do you say we slip away and do our favourite thing too?"

"Where me and you went last time we was here?" asked Marcus. Dimitri nodded.

The two boys looked at each other and then at Lucas and back to Dimitri. "The four of us?" asked Domi. Again Dimitri nodded. The boys glanced at each other again and their eyes brightening with anticipation, they eagerly turned and began to head for the path that lead up to the wetlands and undeveloped area on the west side of the park. Lucas looked at them and then at his departing parents.

"You gonna come?" asked Marcus.

"I think I'd better join my mum and dad."

"We're gonna do something that's lots of fun."

"Yeah, really lots," Domi promised.

"Noooo," Lucas said hesitantly, "I… well, I'm…" He didn't know if he should say what he had been told. He didn't want to get Dimitri mad but he had to have a reason for not going with them.

"… not supposed to be alone with me," Dimitri finished for him.

"Ah, well, yeah," he admitted, looking at the ground. He might as well be honest. Dimitri knew, so it wasn't a big secret, and he didn't sound angry.

"You won't be alone. You'll be with us," Marcus observed with the logic of a seven-year-old before Dimitri could say anything.

"Yeah," Domi agreed in support, eager now to share their secret with their older cousin.

"Well…" His parents had just told him he was never to be alone with Uncle Dimitri and there would be three of them. And Domi and Marcus seemed eager and excited to go with him which was curious. "Okay."

They headed away from the picnic area and in the opposite direction from the boat launch and then took a branch that headed up a rise to where they were making wetlands for the waterfowl whose original nesting area had been destroyed to provide more parking. His father had told him about that, and they had gone up to watch the ducks and geese and their babies. If that was what they were going to do that would be fun. To his disappointment they continued past it to where the park wasn't developed yet. The path turned into a narrow trail through the tall grass and brambles to a clump of trees. It looked like someone had piled up a bunch of dead branches where the trees were the thickest to make sort of a fort. Marcus had to have been there before since he had taken the lead and pushed through the brush to where you could squeeze past the dead branches. There was a totally enclosed space where the grass had been tramped down littered with containers and paper bags and napkins from Tim Horton's and A and W and a few cigarette butts and a couple crushed cans of beer. Kids who lived in Chestermere probably used the place as sort of a hideaway from their parents.

"Neat, huh?" asked Marcus. Lucas had to admit it was. "All right, let's have some fun," said Marcus excitedly, pulling down his fly and pushing his pants down. Domi quickly followed suit and the two boys looked up at Dimitri and then at Lucas with a look like the cat who ate the canary his father would say.

"You gotta take out your cock," Marcus explained.

Lucas looked at his two cousins and up at his uncle with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. This was wrong. And his uncle hadn't said anything when Marcus had said the bad word.

"Yeah," said Domi. "You can use it for something else besides pissing you know." He was bursting to let out the secret.

Dimitri didn't say anything when Domi said that bad word either. That bad feeling got a lot worse. Coming with them was a big mistake. "You aren't supposta touch your privates, or show them to anyone else."

"That's okay. We're all guys."

"And we ain't gonna tell no one."

"My mum and dad will be wondering where I am," Lucas said, thinking quickly. "I didn't tell them where I was going. I'd better go back."

"They'll be a while boating. We'll get back before they return," Dimitri said. It was the first time he had spoken.

"Really, I'd better-."

As he stepped toward the entrance Dimitri stepped behind him and grabbing his right arm roughly twisted it behind his back. Lucas cried out with the sharp pain that shot up his arm and tried to twist out of Dimitri's grasp, which only made his uncle to twist harder and the pain to increase. Lucas automatically stepped up on his toes in an attempt to reduce the pressure and the pain.

"Marcus. Pull down his fly and take out his dink." Frightened and surprised, the seven-year-old boy hesitated. His uncle was hurting Marcus, and if Marcus really didn't want to do it-. "Do it!" Dimitri ordered sharply. His uncle was mad, very mad, and his mother and father said he should never make his uncle mad. The way his uncle looked at him made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and his lower lip began to tremble. "You don't want me to break Lucas's arm."

He didn't want that for sure. He hesitantly stepped forward and pulled down Lucas's zipper. Maybe once Lucas found out how much fun it was to play dicks everything would be all right. Slipping his fingers in Lucas's fly he found the opening to his underwear and he slipped his fingers about Lucas's thing. He had taken his own out millions of times but it felt different taking someone else's out. His dick was warm and soft and felt like a fat worm. He guided it out through the openings of Marcus's underwear and trousers. He knew it was wrong, but it was exciting too, and not all that wrong.

"It's like yours. It don't got a hood like mine and Domi's." The two boys giggled as they looked at their cousin's dick hanging out of his pants.

Lucas had stopped struggling. There was no point in it now and to his relief Dimitri let his arm drop a bit and the pain lessened. He stood there blushing with embarrassment with the three of them staring at his exposed penis.

"Let's check out his nuts. While I hold him, you pull down his pants and underwear while Domi unbuttons his shirt."

Accustomed to doing what they were told when an adult spoke to them, the two boys obeyed automatically. Besides, it was sort of exciting checking out Lucas's dink, and they'd already done that so pulling down his pants was no big deal, nor exposing his chest. Lucas did not protest. He'd never break out of Dimitri's grasp and he certainly didn't want a repeat of the pain, and besides, they already had his dink out of his pants so what difference did it make? Unbuttoning Lucas's shirt was not as easy as Domi thought it would be but he finally got his shirt open and Marcus had his underwear and pants pulled down to his ankles. His balls were a bit bigger and hung down lower than his and Marcus's. Until messing around with Uncle Dimitri he'd never really paid any attention to a guy's balls before.

"Okay, you've seen my stuff. Now let me go," Lucas demanded.

"Not yet," said Dimitri. "We wanna see it hard."

"Hard?" asked Lucas.

"Yeah. You know, like it is when you wake up and have to pee real bad," advised Domi.

"Well, I don't have to pee."

"That's okay. We know how to get it hard without having to pee," Domi replied with a knowing look. "You're gonna like it."

"Lick his nipples and play around with his cock and balls."

"Lick his nipples?" asked Domi.

"Yeah. And suck them. You know, like a baby sucks its mother's tit. It'll get him hard faster."

"Yeah?" said Domi brightly. That would be hot, getting his older cousin hard. He leaned over and ran his tongue over Lucas's nipple and Lucas jerked like he had given him a shock or something. He licked it again and Lucas squirmed. Marcus stepped up and slipping his mouth over Lucas's other teat he sucked on it. Lucas squirmed harder in an effort to break loose.

"Don't forget to mess with his cock and balls too."

"Oh yeah," said Domi. He had forgotten. He reached out and picked up Luca's soft worm. When his fingers touched the rim of his bulb he really twisted, and Domi knew exactly what that was like. Lucas was about to remind him that guys didn't touch each other down there, but Domi had to know that, and Uncle Dimitri had told him to do it. He chose to keep quiet.

"Hey, his nipple's gotten hard," observed Marcus in surprise.

"Yours will too if you rub it with your fingers."

Curious, Marcus opened his shirt and rubbed his nipple. "It feels just like my cock does when I rub it!" he observed in surprise.

Lucas could not keep still and it was not because he was trying to break loose. His two cousins were licking and sucking his nipples and they were hard and burning and itching like two mosquito bites, except a lot worse, and the bulb of his cock was feeling the same and his cock was starting to swell. On top of his confusion and embarrassment, he had a frightening thought. Suppose they hurt him, down there. How was he going to explain that to his father? Marcus was rolling his balls in his sack, and when Domi let go of his cock Marcus began to rub it. What they were doing was dirty. His cock was really swelling and the rim of the bulb was burning, like the skin was being pealed off, painful but pleasant in a way, like when you scratch an itch. But it couldn't be pleasant. It was dirty, and bad, being touched down there, and especially by a guy. Guys didn't do that. His classmates had a name for guys who liked to play with other guy's dicks – fairy. He was not a fairy, but evidently his two cousins were. He wasn't sure how he should feel about that.

The rim of his cockhead had really gotten sensitive and he could not help twisting or pushing out his hips when it was touched and by then his nipples felt like they were on fire. Domi was really sucking on one of them and he was pumping his fist up and down his cock like crazy. The weird part about it all was that he could not keep still. The shocks running through his swollen, stiff dink caused him to jerk his hips and wiggle uncontrollably. It felt like he had to pee and he clamped his peeslit closed and fought back the impulse, which only made it stronger and harder to ignore. He really began to jerk his hips as shock after shock ripped through his swollen flesh and he gasped and shuddered as he felt a twang in his groin and he really began to jerk. He inhaled and exhaled desperately and thrust his hips forward and drew them back as wave after wave pulsated up his cock and he opened and closed his pee slit desperately as he tried to pee but could not. "He's popping, he's popping," Domi shouted loudly. "We made him get off!" He and Marcus stopped and stepped back but Lucas kept squirming and jerking his hips as he gasped for breath. What had they done to him!

"That was wicked!" observed Marcus.

"Oh yeah. Look at him jerking."

"That is another name for jacking off," said Dimitri. "Jerking off."

"I can see why," observed Marcus and the two younger boys giggled.

"So that's why it's called a jerk circle," Domi noted, his eyes lighting up with enlightenment. "We gonna jerk off now?" he asked, his eyes and voice reflecting his eagerness and hope.

"Something even better."

"Suck cock?" asked Marcus just as eager and hopeful.

Dazed by the first orgasm of his life, Lucas glanced from one cousin to the next. Jacking off? Sucking cock? Those were things older boys talked about, boys older than he, things he and his friends had heard but didn't know much about. Domi and Marcus were only seven. Grade ones.

"Even better than sucking cock. I think you boys are ready to have your first fuck."

"What's that?" asked Domi.

"Tell your cousins what fucking means Lucas." He was still holding onto the boy, and as Lucas hesitated Dimitri began to twist his arm behind his back again.

"It's… ah… what a man and woman do to make a baby."

"It's time for us to make a baby?" asked Domi. He and Marcus stared up at Dimitri in surprise.

"Well, not exactly," Dimitri replied with a chuckle. He had not chuckled in a long time and it felt good, but strange. "Explain to your cousins how a man and woman make a baby, Lucas."

"Well, ah… a man… ah… sticks his thing in a woman's… ah… thing."

The boys glanced at each other and then looked at Dimitri. "But there's no women here."

"That's the great part about being guys. Girls need a guy in order to fuck, but guys can fuck without needing a girl," Dimitri advised.

"That's good," observed Marcus. "I don't specially like girls." "Me neither," observed Domi. "They're a bunch of sissies and telltales."

"Yeah. I'd rather do stuff with guys."

"You boys are a BL's dream," Dimitri observed. The three of them had no idea what a BL was but they noted that their uncle wasn't angry anymore. "By the time we're done you'll never ever want anything to do with girls."

"So, how do guys fuck if we don't need a girl?"

"Well, a girl's thing is actually nothing but a hole where a guy's cock is. That's why a boy can stick his thing in a girl's thing."

"Yeah, a girl's got nothing there. It sorta looks like a little hotdog bun," observed Marcus.

"You've seen a girl's cunt?" asked Dimitri.

"Yah. My little sister's. When she was a baby and had to have her diaper changed."

"Well, boys also have a hole where a guy can stick his thing. It's just behind them and not in front and looks different."

Lucas and his friends had heard older boys talk about that and he knew immediately what his uncle was referring to. It took the other two boys a few moments to understand.

"You don't really mean…"

"I do."

"A guy's poop hole?"

"Ewww."

"It's not as dirty as you think, and it's way better than jerking, or sucking." Dimitri glanced around. "Marcus, bring me that napkin over there." Marcus picked up the paper napkin and handed it to his uncle. Turning Lucas around and bending him over he poked half the napkin up his anus before he had time to protest. Twisting it around a couple times, he drew it out and tossed it aside. "Now who wants to go first?"

The two boys looked at each other. "I will," said Marcus.

Dimitri grinned. Yes. The boy was well on his way to becoming a little faggot.

"Okay, Lucas. On your knees and suck your cousin until you get him hard."

"Suck him? No way!" He didn't care if his uncle got mad. He didn't care if he broke his arm. There was no way he was going to suck Marcus's cock, or let him stick his dick up his ass. No way!

Lucas didn't have a chance to say anything else. Dimitri gave him a slap across the face that jarred his teeth and brought tears to his eyes and sent him reeling. With his underwear and pants about his ankles, he stumbled and fell to the ground. Grabbing him from the back, Dimitri half dragged and half-carried him over to Marcus, scraping his calves and knees on the rough ground.

"Suck."

Sitting on his haunches, Lucas blinked the tears out of his eyes and stared as his cousin's penis. This was bad, very bad, all the way round. Grabbing him by the hair with his left hand, Dimitri raised him off his backside and gave his bare ass four resounding whacks, two on each cheek. His ass cheeks smarting from the spanking and Dimitri's hand prints in red against his white buttocks, he leaned forward and took Marcus's cock in his mouth and began to suck before Dimitri did anything more. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he struggled to stop from gagging. He had a guy's cock in his mouth, a guy's filthy cock!

Marcus stood there just as much in shock. He didn't mean for Lucas to get slapped around like that or to cry. He felt so bad he wanted to cry himself, and to pull back and say he'd get himself hard with his fingers, or that he'd changed his mind about fucking, but Uncle Dimitri might not like that now, and he didn't want to get his uncle any madder. This was supposed to be fun but it was not so much fun anymore. He stood there confused and frightened as he looked down at his cousin sucking on his cock. That wasn't at all how it was supposed to feel. Domi stood there watching, just as shocked and as scared and just as confused.

Marcus found himself slowly getting hard despite his upset and as his cock grew he concentrated on the feeling. It was Lucas's dumb fault for getting his uncle mad and for getting slapped. He should have just done what he was told. Kids were supposed to do what adults said. Uncle Dimitri had never gotten mean with him or Domi. As his cock continued to swell, he looked down at Lucas. He had learned sucking cock was not so bad. He was sucking him good.

"Now," said Dimitri, "when you are older and bigger like me you'll need some lubricant to grease up your cock and your partner's asshole so you can stick it in, but at your age your dick is narrow enough to fit and a little spit is all you need to make it slick."

Spinning Lucas around and pushing him down so he was on his hands and knees, Dimitri straddled him in the opposite direction. Pulling apart the boy's ass cheeks, he worked up a gob of spit and spat it at the boy's asshole, hitting it smack on as Domi and Marcus watched. Marcus's cock twitched and Domi's began to rise. That was sort of hot in a way. Spitting was a guy thing, and spitting on a guy's asshole was dirty and arousing. Dimitri spat on Lucas's asshole once again and then yanked his jeans and briefs off. "Now, Lucas, open up your asshole. Open it like you're pushing out a turd." Lucas pushed out and his anus opened and he felt another gob of slime strike it. "Now Marcus, get down on your knees and put the tip of your dick in his hole and push it in."

Uncertain about this, Marcus slowly dropped to his knees. Lucas did not want to do this. Sticking his dick up someone's bum was not his idea of fun either, and he certainly wouldn't want someone to stick their dick up his bum, but he knew better not to say so even if it was yucky. He definitely did not want to get slapped around like Lucas had. Wedging the tip of his slender dick in Lucas's opening, he slowly pushed forward and to his surprise it slipped up his cousin's bum hole with no trouble at all. His pecker being no bigger than a man's thumb, his smooth pubes were pressing against his cousin's bare butt seconds later.

"Now pull it out, just a little, not all the way so it comes back out, and push it in again as far up as you can, and keep sliding it in and out."

Marcus did as he was told. The rim of his cockhead burned and itched just like it did when it was rubbed or sucked. That felt good but it felt really strange having his stiff cock totally surrounded on all sides and from top to bottom. Lucas's asshole was hot and moist and Marcus could feel it pulsating just like his cock was. It did feel better than being jerked or being sucked. He grasped Lucas's hips and pumped his to and fro and the itchier his dick got the faster he pumped his hips. He wondered if that was what it felt like when a guy fucked a girl.

Lucas quivered as he felt his cousin's cock sliding in and out of his hole faster and faster. His ass cheeks still burned where they had been slapped, and his bumhole was burning too, but not unpleasantly. When Marcus's cock slid out it felt sorta like taking a poop, which now he thought about it, felt sorta pleasant. But it was something dirty, not just the poop part but two guys doing it. Guys didn't do this. Not real guys. This was something fairies did, and being a fairy was sick and loathsome, even worse than being a nerd or a sissy, though he wasn't exactly sure why. Being a fairy was something bad and it was shameful, and so was having a dick shoved up your butt.

"Domi. Play with his pecker."

Dropping to his knees, Domi did so quickly and obediently, because he didn't want to make his uncle mad, and because it was fun playing with another guy's, and because he knew it felt good having it rubbed and he wanted to do something that would make Lucas feel good, though he sorta looked like he was enjoying getting his ass fucked. He closed his fingers about Lucas's cock. It felt different, being bigger than his and not having a skin. He rubbed it quickly but gently, knowing how sensitive a guy's cockhead was, and he felt Lucas's cock slowing swelling and becoming hard. That meant he was liking it, or at least his dick was, and that encouraged Domi to continue.

Having someone touching and rubbing his penis was something dirty and taboo among guys, and forbidden by adults, and he could not help thinking of that feeling guilty and ashamed having it done to him. However, he also could not help thinking back to what happened the first time his penis had been stroked, and though that had felt weird, it had also felt amazing and Lucas would not mind experiencing that feeling again. As he thought back about the way his pee hole had burned, it was not unlike how his bum hole was feeling right then, and when he thought about how it had felt like he had to pee, he sort of had the same feeling now. Each time Marcus sank his dick up his butt the stronger that feeling became and Lucas knew now what was about to happen and he closed his eyes and concentrated on that and strained for it to happen again. By the time Marcus was jerking and gasping behind him with his orgasm, Lucas was jerking and gasping with his second orgasm, a combination of being stroked and of being fucked.

When Marcus finally pulled his cock out, Domi was already hard and he bowed his head and drooled over his erection to lube it upon Dimitri's suggestion without hesitation. Spitting was a boy thing and drooling on one's cock was arousing in a way. He also pulled apart Lucas's ass cheeks and spat on his asshole for the same reasons. He easily inserted his penis and began fucking as he'd seen Marcus do and as he'd heard Dimitri explain. Like Marcus he had not been that keen on the idea of sticking his thing up Lucas's bumhole, but once he began he found physically it was better than his hand or getting sucked just like his uncle had said it would be.

Physically, being on the receiving end didn't feel all that bad and with just Domi fucking him he was able to focus on what it felt like. Mentally, on the other hand, was a very different matter. Boys fucking each other was filthy and wrong, and being the one getting fucked was embarrassing and degrading. Fucking each other was something good boys did not do. It was something fairies did, and everyone hated and despised fairies. Lucas knew though that being good wasn't always as much fun as being bad, and he was beginning to suspect maybe being a fairy wasn't all as bad as guys made it out to be, especially when he wasn't sure just what it was that guys found so revolting. Then his bum hole really began burning again and the knob of his penis was itching without anyone even stroking it and Domi was gasping and snorting and Lucas couldn't concentrate on anything other than how weird it all felt. His penis was swollen and throbbing and the head burning and for the third time he suddenly began to jerk uncontrollably and it all felt good and Lucas forgot about how wrong it was. When Domi pulled out his penis, Lucas realized he was panting just a heavily as Domi was.

"All right!" said Dimitri. "Way to go! You made Lucas get off just by fucking him. That means he really liked it." Messing with his little nephews' minds was even better than messing with their little dicks, and so damn easy. There was no way Lucas had enjoyed getting fucked by his younger cousins, but now he would not be so sure.

That was exactly what Lucas was thinking as Dimitri stepped up to him. His uncle had chucked his jeans and underwear. Dimitri's cock was humungous, bigger than he could have ever imagined a guy's dick could be, long and thick, really long and thick. His heart sank. There was no way he was going to take that up his ass! Dimitri could slap him around and break his arm and do whatever he wanted. Nothing could hurt more than having that big dick shoved up his bum. He inhaled deeply, prepared to fight with all his strength. With his trousers off he'd be able to run this time, and he'd run. It didn't matter that he had no pants or underwear on. Better a bunch of strangers see his privates than have Dimitri shove his cock up his ass.

"Don't worry," Dimitri said, somehow knowing what he was thinking. "Today you can just suck me off. We'll need to give your hole some good stretching before I stick mine up it. We don't want you getting all ripped up and your mum and dad finding out what's going on. For today, just lick it."

Relieved his uncle was not going to stick his big dick up his butt and that he was not going to have to run through the park with his butt and his privates exposed, and numb with everything that had happened to him, he knelt there before his uncle and ran his tongue up the shaft of his cock and over the head. It didn't have a gross taste as one would have expected considering it was used for pissing. It sorta tasted like a raw wiener, but that could be his imagination. It did have a unique odour, one that reminded him of one of the strong cheeses his Nonna used in baking, a cheese made of goat's milk. It was still disgusting and filthy. Guys insulted each other by telling them to suck dick. His uncle interrupted his thoughts and told him to swirl his tongue around the knob and he did, causing his uncle's dick to jerk. He slipped his lips over the knob and sucked it when told to do so, fighting back the impulse to gag, afraid what his uncle would say and do. He concentrated on doing a good job so his uncle would not get mad, and to take his mind off how filthy and perverted what he was doing was.

He thought of his mum and dad out on the lake sailing and having fun and he imagined himself with them. Why hadn't he joined them? He should have listened to them. He hadn't obeyed them and as a result he'd been held down and had his dick taken out of his fly against his will and played with and he'd had his butt fucked by his two little cousins. They were only in grade one and he was in grade four and they had done him! And now he was sucking his Uncle Dimitri's dick. He had never felt so ashamed and so humiliated nor so dirty in all his life. His jaw was getting sore being wide open for so long. Suddenly he felt something thick and slimy strike the back of his mouth and ooze down his throat quickly followed by more squirts. Caught by surprise and unable to swallow and breathe at the same time he gagged and snorted whatever it was out his nose and the slime in his mouth flowed out of the corners of his mouth and about his chin. It was warm and bitter and gooey. He tried to swallow it so he could breathe but it clung to his tongue and his mouth and he snorted again.

It was only a minute but it seemed an hour before his uncle stopped spurting and withdrew his cock. His stuff that Lucas had snorted out his nose oozed over his upper lip like snot and into his gaping mouth. Grasping his still stiff cock at the base with his left hand, Dimitri drew his fist up, squeezing whatever the stuff was out. It hung in a slimy, whitish pendant from the tip. Catching it on the tip of his index finger, he reached out and made the sign of the cross with it on Lucas's forehead. "In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost, you are reborn," he said. Squeezing out another dollop, he smeared it in the middle of Lucas's forehead and on his testicles, and then his left and finally his right nipple. "Marked with my cream of life, you are mine." Domi and Marcus stood watching silently.

Dimitri picked up his underwear and trousers and put them back on and Domi and Marcus pulled their jeans and shorts back up. Locating his underwear and jeans, Lucas quickly got dressed. Picking up one of the paper napkins littering the ground, maybe even the one he'd shoved up his ass, Dimitri handed it to him and he wiped off his lips and chin and blew his nose in it. The stuff was sticky and slimy and stuck in his nose and to the roof of his mouth and his teeth. While the boys were occupied pushing their way through the shrubs surrounding their trysting place, Dimitri took down his smart phone where he had hung it and turned the cam off.

The four of them headed down the path in silence, lost in their thoughts. Domi and Marcus didn't know what to think. It had been exciting and fun 'getting it off' as uncle Dimitri called it, and taking out Lucas's dick and messing with it. They felt bad though about Lucas crying and getting hurt and hoped he wouldn't be mad at them, and though he hadn't hurt them or gotten mad at them, they were frighted by their uncle. It was all very confusing. Dimitri studied each boy as he walked behind them. Marcus had learned the pleasure of jerking off and jerking someone else off and of sucking and being sucked, and today the pleasure of fucking, and he'd next discover the pleasure of getting fucked, probably by his best buddy Bobby, or by his cousin Domi. He was a natural cock hound and at the age of seven already loved cock in his fist, in his mouth, or up a guy's ass. With that sort of love of cock he would be a boylover's dream for the next ten years. After ten years of pleasing men, and Dimitri would make sure he had plenty of men to please, he would be perfect in luring and teaching young boys how to please men.

Domi was a born boylover. Curious, devilish, and enticed by the forbidden, he was naturally attracted to boys and that attraction was reinforced by his newly discovered pleasures of the flesh. Dimitri hoped Domi's mother would have a boy. He could picture Domi becoming a great momma's helper, changing his little baby brother's diaper and giving him a bath, and when momma wasn't watching fiddling with the tyke's little pecker and finger fucking his little bum. While the little snotnose was still nursing at his mother's tit he could picture Domi teaching him there was something else he could suck that would bring his loving big brother pleasure.

And then there was Lucas. Right now the nine-year-old boy was filled with shame and embarrassment and was smoldering with anger. He would take that anger that the boy had for him at this moment and redirect it to those he should really be angry with, those who set up the rules about what a boy can and cannot do, rules that made him feel shame and embarrassment for doing was perfectly natural for boys to do. The boy felt dirty but Dimitri would teach him that feeling dirty and ashamed was what made sex with guys so pleasurable, and that made man-boy love superior to all other types of love and the most powerful weapon in the world. It would take time, but Lucas too would become a boylover, a boylover like himself.

Chapter 5
A Bully's Recompense

Fifteen-year-old Cory Carson, grade nine jock, hunk, and bully, is taken to task for bullying Justin by Dimitri, much to Justin's admiration and appreciation

"Give me your math scribbler, Bromley," Cory ordered as he stopped at my desk Monday morning.

"You had all weekend to do your homework," I replied.

"Why should I when I can copy yours?" he asked with a smirk. Snatching my scribbler, he stepped away before I could grab it back and headed for his desk.

There was no point in protesting. There had been a time when I'd tried to get it back before he could copy the assignment and protest that it was cheating, but I had soon learned that was futile. He'd end up with it in the end one way or another. If we were caught squabbling over my homework we both got in trouble and I paid for it double after classes, and if I resisted giving it to him he'd threaten to see me after school and I'd give in. I took him up on his challenge only once and I ended up with a bruised shoulder and right cheek and on my knees clutching my stomach for taking the high road and just showing everyone at school what a weakling I was. So, I sat there humiliated in front of the rest of the class and seething with anger as he copied my answers and passed my scribbler back to me without so much as a thanks. I consoled myself with the knowledge that not doing his homework only hurt his chances of doing well on the exam, but that did little to ease my embarrassment in front of my classmates and as long as he passed at the end of the year he didn't care how he did on the exams.

At noon he demanded my essay in Social Studies due that afternoon. Usually it was mathematics homework or science questions, which were quick to copy and which were the same answers for everyone so there was no way to know they were copied. An essay was different, and something even Cory knew would be more easily detected as being copied. When I gave him a look that said he was being stupid, he just shrugged and said he'd had a hot weekend and hadn't had time to do it, pointedly adding unlike some people. There he was right. I'd never had a hot weekend. Well, until I'd met Dimitri, and what we were doing on the weekends a lot of guys would not consider hot and I could hardly mention. So I turned it over.

At the end of the day, I was talking to Sheila Bernstein as we headed to the lockers when Cory "accidentally" bumped into me, knocking my binders and books on the floor. Laughing, he commented something about me not being able to walk and talk at the same time, at least talking to girls. He and his buddies thought that was a big joke and laughed like it was the funniest thing they'd ever heard. The others, including Sheila, pretended not to have heard or noticed. Blushing a bright red, I knew better than to say anything and just bent over to pick my stuff up. Cory took the opportunity to bump up behind me a couple times as if fucking my ass which amused his friends all the more and caused me to turn even redder.

As they headed off, he muttered something about being a wimp and a fem and that I was lucky he was making out or he'd give me a thrill, which caused another round of laughter. Sheila pretended she hadn't heard, but I could see from the look on her face she had, and that she was thinking what a loser I was. Sheila isn't stacked like some of the girls and she has a nose that is much too big, but she's otherwise not bad looking, and she's friendly, not like many girls who really think they are someone and look down their nose at anyone who isn't a jock or popular like themselves, and especially at nerds like myself. I'd actually been toying with the idea of asking Sheila if she'd go to the junior high prom with me next month. Fat chance of that now.

So, that was my Monday, fairly typical in the life of Justin Bromley, Saint Joseph's Academy's top nerd. That had been wack, but Wednesday turned out to be even worse. Mr. de Landa returned our Social Studies essays.

Pausing at Cory's desk, he observed, "a very impressive essay Mister Carson." He flipped the essay open and read from it. "While in exile in the United States, Riel began to have spells of megalomania which bordered on insanity, a condition that made it particularly easy for his friends to convince him to return to Canada to take charge of a new insurgency movement. A very impressive sentence." Cory beamed with the praise and smiled at his friends. My heart sank.

De Landa continued handing out the essays, commenting occasionally on something he particularly liked. Arriving at my desk, he paused and looked at me intently. It was only a couple seconds but it seemed like minutes. "Another very impressive piece of work, Mister Bromley." He opened my essay up and glanced over the page. I knew what he was looking for. "While in exile in the United States, Riel began to have spells of megalomania which bordered on insanity, a condition that made it particularly easy for his friends to convince him to return to Canada to take charge of a new insurgency movement. A very impressive sentence." It took Cory a moment to catch on that we were in trouble. "Even more impressive is that two students can come up with exactly the same statement." He looked at me, and then at Cory.

Cory hesitated for a moment and then tried to bluster that we must have read the same source. "Forget it Mister Carson. You know the rule about plagiarizing. The same goes for copying. You both get zero."

Zero. My heart sank even lower. My parents would have a fit when they found out. After school Cory cornered me in the lockers and gave me shit over it, saying if I didn't write like such a nerd de Landa would never have noticed, as if us getting a zero was all my fault. It was one of my worst days, but things didn't end there. That night I was doing homework of a different nature and as I pushed myself beyond my limit and began to gag, my mother walked into my bedroom.

"Justin, are you sic – Justin, what are you doing?"

What does a guy say when he is caught with half a banana, unpeeled, stuck down his throat? "I… uh… saw this magic trick on T.V. You know, where this guy swallows a sword and stuff, and they showed how he does it, so I thought I'd try, with a banana of course, not a sword."

"I should say not, with a sword. Nor a banana, nor anything else. What are you thinking?"

"I just thought it might be a neat trick. You know, to impress the guys at school."

"Well, you forget it, you hear?"

"Yes. Sorry." I peeled the banana and ate it. There were more in my drawer that I could practice with later.

Thursday arrived and I wasn't much looking forward to it either, especially after school. As I peddled my bike up the Savalos driveway, I was surprised to find Dimitri sitting behind the driver's wheel in a car in the driveway. It was a sporty car, a red Chevy Camaro convertible, this year's model.

"Get in," he ordered, nodding to the passenger seat in the front. I parked my bike and did as I was told. He didn't say anything as he backed out of the driveway and headed down the street. We headed south and east and onto Ogden Road and the industrial part of town near the railway. Pulling up to a cluster of dilapidated old warehouses, he motioned for me to get out of the car and we went around to the trunk. When he popped it open and I saw the body my heart leaped to my throat as I jumped to the conclusion it was a corpse and we were about to dispose of it. As he grabbed the body and roughly dragged it out of the trunk, I saw the person was very much alive, and to my surprise, I knew him. It was Cory Carson! His hands were bound behind his back and his ankles tied together, and he was gagged. A bloodied scrape on his forehead and a blue-black bruise on his right cheek showed he had put up a fight.

Grabbing him from behind by the belt, Dimitri half carried and half-dragged him over to one of the warehouses and inside. I meekly followed. Dimitri removed the gag. Cory looked first at him, angry but cautious, and then at me, with curiosity and surprise. "What the fuck is this?" Dimitri slapped his mouth, hard, cracking his lip and causing him to stagger backward and almost fall with his ankles being tied.

"You will speak only when I tell you that you can," Dimitri said in that flat voice of his, "and you use that tone of voice to me again I'll cut out your tongue and shove it up your ass." He didn't speak angrily nor loudly. On the contrary, he spoke very calmly and very softly, but his voice, and the dead-fish look in his eyes, sent a quiver up my spine, and I'm sure up Cory's also. I had no doubt he would do what he promised, and I suspect Cory did too. I had never heard anyone speak to Cory like that, and clearly from the glare in his eyes nor had he. I must confess it gave me a good feeling hearing him spoken to like that.

"I hear you've been giving my man Justin a bad time," Dimitri continued in that flat voice of his. "Forcing him to give you his math homework, copying his history essay as your own and getting both of you zero's. That's not nice."

Cory glared at me accusingly and angrily. "I don't know what this wimp has been – ." Cory was stopped by a blow to the stomach that made him yell out in pain and crumple over.

"He hasn't said anything. I have other sources to keep me in the know. Now apologize for calling him a wimp." He said it flatly and without malice and of course as was his nature Cory didn't take it seriously. Nobody ordered him what to do, and he never apologized to anyone for anything. His obstinance was rewarded with a knee to the crotch, resulting in him bending over again with tears in his eyes and another yelp of pain. As Cory panted and tried to catch his breath, Dimitri stepped forward again.

"I'm sorry," Cory quickly gasped as he straightened up, his voice several octaves higher than usual.

"For what?"

"For calling him a wimp."

"Calling who a wimp?"

"Him," Cory replied, nodding to me.

"He has a name. Use it when you tell him you're sorry, not me."

Cory stared at me in disbelief. He never apologized to anyone, and least of all to someone like me. Dimitri sighed as he took another step toward him. "I'm sorry, Justin," Cory blurted. Dimitri said nothing as he stepped closer, his facial expression unchanging. "For calling you a wimp," Cory added quickly. That had to have been difficult. I couldn't believe it was happening. Cory had to be in even greater disbelief.

"Embarrassing my man in front of his classmates, and in front of a girl he was talking to. Calling him a fem. Those aren't nice things. I don't like hearing about my friends being ridiculed and humiliated like that."

That was several times now he had called me his man. That gave me a strange feeling, a feeling of pride in a way, being Dimitri Savalos' man. It was clear, to me, what he was expecting Cory to do. When Cory didn't, Dimitri sighed, as a parent would with a slow child, slowly shook his head, and drew back his hand.

"It was a joke," Cory tried to explain.

Dimitri gave him a kidney chop that took Cory's breath away and brought fresh tears to his eyes. That had to hurt like hell. "So was that," Dimitri said. "I don't hear you laughing." Cory looked at him in disbelief as if he were crazy. I was beginning to suspect he was. As Dimitri began to draw his hand back again, Cory laughed, a weak, unconvincing laugh. "That's better," Dimitri said with that flat voice and dead-eyed look of his. Neither Cory nor I knew if he was being sarcastic or sincere.

"I also understand you said you'd like to give my man Justin here a thrill."

Where had Dimitri heard all this? I certainly had not told him. I quickly ran through my mind all the people who had been witness to our confrontation in the hallway, and then who of those were in also my Social Studies class and who of those were in Mister Whiting's mathematics class. There was Sheila, but I could not imagine her being the one. I eliminated all the girls as I could not see any of them talking to Dimitri, not willingly. That still left several guys. I had no idea which one it would be, but from the details Dimitri knew, it had to have been someone who had witnessed all three events.

"No comment, big stud?"

"I didn't say I'd like to," Cory dared to challenge.

"No, you didn't. You said you would, if you weren't making out."

"That's right," Cory said, gaining confidence. "Now untie – ."

"Who you making out with?"

Cory hesitated, and that hesitation, and the look in his eyes, told me he wasn't making out at all. Dimitri was no fool. He knew too. He probably knew before he even asked.

"A gentleman – ."

Dimitri socked him in the stomach again. This time twice, causing Cory to double over. "Enough bullshit," Dimitri said in that voice and with that look that made a person's blood run cold. "I know, you know, and my man Justin here knows you ain't making out with nobody but your right hand." He stepped up next to Cory, who was still bent over in pain, and grabbing him by the throat with the left hand, he raised him so he was on his tippy toes and staring into Dimitri's dead-fish eyes. He pulled out a knife from nowhere, flicked open the blade, and placed it along Cory's thigh just below his crotch. "Isn't that right?"

"Yes," Cory said between a croak and a whisper.

"I didn't hear you."

"Yes," Cory said louder, his voice cracking and making him sound ridiculous. He had to be embarrassed as hell, and frightened out of his wits.

"Yes what?"

"Yes sir," Cory replied desperately, unsure what Dimitri meant and saying the first thing to come to his mind. It wasn't the response Dimitri was looking for.

"Yes you aren't doing what except with what, sir?"

"Yes… I'm not making out… except with my hand, sir."

"Then if you're not making out, I guess you can give my man Justin here a thrill after all, can't you?"

It took Cory and myself a moment to follow through that logic, and the implication. He wasn't making out. And he said if he wasn't he'd give me a thrill. I have to admit up until that moment I was enjoying seeing Cory squirm and sweat. I was enjoying it a lot. But it all lead up to him doing what he said he'd do to me back there in the hallway in front of everyone. That certainly was not what I wanted. Cory, not being all that bright, until now had been totally confused and incredulous, having never been stood up to and humiliated like this. Now he saw a glimmer of hope, a glimmer of redemption, though it was not what he really wanted either. He hadn't really meant what he had said about giving me a thrill and even now he had no inclination of doing that sort of thing even if it meant demeaning and humiliating another guy, which he did delight in doing. He was not that sort of guy!

"I asked you a question."

"I, well," stammered Cory with a weak grin and quavering upper lip. "I was just joking around." He would love to humiliate me after what he'd just gone through, but not that way. The blade cut through the cloth of his jeans and he felt the cold blade against his flesh. The tip was just below his nuts. "Well, yes, I could… "

Dimitri twisted him around, the blade flashed in the sunlight shining through the narrow, dirty, cracked window near the ceiling, and the cords binding his wrists fell to the floor of the warehouse. Grasping Cory by the back of his neck, Dimitri forced him to his knees.

"Take out his cock." Cory stared at my crotch, that dazed look back in his eyes. Nobody ever ordered him around, and they certainly never expected him to do something like that. "Ah fuck, I'm not telling you everything twice anymore." The blade flashed again and Cory felt a moment of pain and then blood flowing down the left side of his neck. He was sure he had felt something strike his shirt as it fell to the floor and immediately thought the worst – his ear! The guy was unbalanced, and no doubt a killer. His eyes wide with fear and almost on the verge of tears, he reached up and pulled down my zipper. He wanted to reach up and feel the side of his head but he knew if he delayed doing what he had been told the guy wouldn't hesitate to do more, maybe slash his face, or his throat. His fingers slipped in the opening of my jeans and after a moment found the fly of my underwear and slipped inside it. Finding my cock, he wrapped his fingers about it and guided it out through the openings of my underwear and my jeans. "You know what to do."

Cory was taking no chances of angering Dimitri. He opened his mouth and leaned forward as he held my limp cock up and he slipped his lips about it. I could feel the vacuum as he began to suck on it. Cory Carson, fifteen-year-old junior high jock and stud, admired and envied by every guy in junior high, the most desired boy of every girl in junior high, my tormentor and most hated on my list of bullies, was kneeling there in the dirt and litter of a dilapidated old warehouse and sucking on my cock. I should have been elated. I should have been ecstatic. I was neither. I was totally shocked. Never in my wildest dreams – and I'd had some pretty wild dreams of revenge over the past three years of junior high – had I imagined him doing this. Never. Gradually I felt myself beginning to swell. I was swelling in the son-of-a-bitch's mouth. After years of bullying me and pushing me around, he was kneeling there performing one of the filthiest acts one guy can perform on another, an act that guys told others to do as the ultimate insult and greatest display of power.

"Pull his jeans and underwear down." Cory did so, staring straight ahead, his eyes reflecting his fear and his distaste and his humiliation. My cock was still limp but swollen and he had difficulty getting my briefs down with it sticking out of my fly. "Sniff his nuts like the horny little cocksucker that you are." Cory sniffed and Dimitri snapped a picture. It was mid-May and hot and my nuts had been sweating. My cock began to rise. "Suck his eggs." Cory leaned forward and after a couple false starts figured out how to crouch down and to cock his head to get my nuts in his mouth. He sucked and I could hear him breathing heavily and then swallowing. He had my hairy, sweaty, stinking nuts in his mouth, soaking them in his spit and then swallowing his saliva and Dimitri was recording it all. I could not believe this. It was sheer delight and making me horny as hell and it had nothing to do with physical pleasure. "Okay, back to his cock."

It was as if he were a robot under audio control. Dimitri spoke and he responded. Cory slipped his lips back about my now almost erect cock and clamping them down, he began sucking again, and then when instructed to do so, he began to slip his lips up and down the shaft from my knob to my hairy pubes. I became fully erect, from the physical stimulation and the erotic pleasure of being sucked, and from the mental pleasure of having one of the people I truly hated and who had made my life hell sucking my cock, performing the filthiest, most demeaning act a guy can perform on another against his will. On top of it, he was performing it on someone he had up to that moment clearly held in low respect. That was sheer delight!

Dimitri continued recording it all on his cell. As usual he showed no emotion and whether he was enjoying this or getting turned on by it I had no idea. Cory certainly wasn't. His eyes were filled with shame and disgust and I knew exactly how he was feeling from the first time I'd been forced to do it. Actually, I suspected he was feeling worse being a jock and a hunk. He was as macho as any fifteen-year-old guy could be and he flaunted his masculinity. Being forced to perform this demeaning faggot act had to really hurt given the ego he had.

I was thoroughly enjoying it. My cock was rock hard and throbbing hotly and my knob and pee slit were tingling and burning with that sweet pain that both hurt and was such a delight to feel. It was the perfect revenge for the years of bullying and embarrassment he had put me though, which doubled my physical pleasure, and the anticipation of shooting my stuff down Cory's throat and causing him even more humiliation made it all the hotter. I closed my eyes and savoured the physical pleasure pulsating through my swollen cock. I looked down at Cory, his own eyes closed in an attempt I suppose to block out what he was being forced to do, his downy cheeks sunken in, and his lips wrapped about my stiff cock and I savoured the mental pleasure of humiliating the son-of-a-bitch. That image of him would be fixed in my mind forever and I would relive this moment a million times. My knob was really burning now and my swollen cock really throbbing as the pressure in my groin approached its peak. I was breathing heavily and I threw my head back and sighed and groaned with the pleasure, and in anticipation of the even greater pleasure about to come.

And then I was squirting my load in his mouth and Cory was swallowing. I'll give him credit for that. He swallowed down my stuff as fast as I squirted it in his mouth, and I had a lot to squirt and I was squirting more rapidly than I ever had before. No matter how much he embarrassed me in the future or pushed me around, I would remember this moment, and I knew so would he, and nothing he did could compare to his humiliation of swallowing another guy's stuff and to my domination over him. Squirt after squirt of my slime blasted down his throat and I gasped and snorted with pleasure, my cheeks hot and flushed, my swollen cock numb and my nuts pulled up in a tight ball beneath it. When at last I was done, Dimitri ordered me to pull my cock out and to squeeze out the last drops of my cum into Cory's mouth, and I did so willingly and happily as Dimitri caught it on his cell.

Now able to think about what had just happened, Cory hacked and began to bend over. Dimitri told him if he puked he'd make him suck it up off the floor. He hacked again and clenched his eyes shut as he fought the reflex, as he forced my slime back down his gullet. It took a lot of effort but he managed it, knowing that being forced to suck it up off the filthy floor would be a reality. I thought things were over, but Dimitri was just getting started. He ordered Cory to pull down his pants and underwear and to jack one off and Cory did without any argument or hesitation. He knew better. His dick was still soft. He sat there on his haunches beating his meat, his face and his eyes as blank as Dimitri's. He beat his cock for the longest time but finally the stimulation of his flesh overcame his humiliation and his anger and he got hard. It was not long after that, that he came, squirting his stuff on the floor of the warehouse, his face reflecting his shame and embarrassment. Dimitri again caught it all on his cell.

Cutting the cords binding his ankles at last, Dimitri told him to remove his pants and underwear and as he did so Dimitri chucked his own. His huge cock was stiff and Cory's face went white. Dimitri retrieved a tube of KY from his jeans pocket and squeezed out a dollop and smeared it over his knob. He told Cory to drop to his knees and elbows and to spread his legs.

"Please. Please no. Not that," he begged. Taking another guy's dick up the ass was bad enough. Taking one the size of Dimitri's was going to be painful no matter how much lube he had used. I knew. Dimitri ignored his pleas. Handing me his cell and telling me to continue taking pictures, he squeezed a dollop of lube on the tip of his pointer finger and kneeling behind Cory, he spread apart his ass cheeks and roughly stabbed his finger up his hole and twisted it. Cory grimaced with the pain and with feeling someone shove their finger up his ass for the first time in his life. Pulling it out, Dimitri knelt behind him and placing the tip of his greased pole against Cory's hole, he pushed forward, ramming his hard, thick cock up Cory's rectum with one brutal thrust. Cory yelped and threw back his head with the pain. Dimitri continued to push his hips forward, ramming his cock all the way in until his hairs were pressed against Cory's smooth butt. I caught it all on Dimitri's cell.

Grasping his hips, he began to pump to and fro, drawing his cock out until the knob was starting to spread open Cory's sphincter and then sinking his cock back up his rectum until his coarse hairs were pressing against Cory's smooth buttocks. He fucked him slowly, enjoying the physical stimulation of having a hot, moist ass gripping his throbbing cock, and I suspect enjoying the pleasure of taking the boy's cherry, of being the first one to shove his cock up the virgin fifteen-year-old. Cory clenched his eyes shut tightly and gritted his teeth, enjoying none of it, not even the physical stimulation. His cock was limp again, a pendant of his cum hanging from the tip. Dimitri fucked him good and long, making it last, not for Cory's enjoyment but for his own. Finally he began to speed up and at last he threw his head back and snorted and gasped as he shot his stuff up the jock stud's ass. Squirt after squirt shot up his rectum and Dimitri gave Cory's ass a few last thrusts before withdrawing his cock. He held his knob above Cory's ass cheeks as he squeezed the final drops of juice over them.

The three of us pulled our underwear and pants back on. Ashamed, humiliated, angry, and feeling filthy, his briefs sticking to his ass and soaking up Dimitri's slime, Cory stared down at the floor, unable to look at either of us. I didn't realize it, but he was also looking for his ear, and was relieved to discover it had been his imagination. I knew I should be feeling ashamed and filthy also, but I was not. Deep down inside I was rejoicing over Cory's degradation and the power that I had over him this past hour. I don't care what anyone says. Vengeance is sweet. As for Dimitri, I had no idea how he felt about it all from his face or his demeanor but he had to have been pleased, but he showed neither pleasure, regret, nor guilt. On the way back, Cory sat in the backseat where Dimitri had tossed his skateboard when he'd kidnapped him on his way to the park. Dropping me off at his driveway, he told Cory he would drive him home. As I peddled back to my house, I had to admire Dimitri. Nobody dared push him around. Opposite to what I had expected, this had been a good day, and I had Dimitri to thank for that.

Chapter 6
Son of a Preacher Man

After warning the pastor of a local Seventh Day Adventist church and one of the church's main supporters to stop campaigning against boy lovers and sexually explicit photos of children, Dimitri captures the pastor's sixteen-year-old son and his fifteen-year-old girlfriend and he and his two friends (a forty-eight year old Plains Cree and an eighteen year old black teen) abuse the two on line. Story told by the pastor's son.

Characters: Dimitri (22yo), Chief (48yo), Kwame (18yo), Joshua (16yo), Sarah (15yo) – Codes: Mf Mt tt – non-cons oral anal

Following church services, Sarah and I went for a stroll along the Bow as had become our habit shortly after we had begun dating back in October seven months ago. It was good for us physically and mentally, being healthy, wholesome exercise and peaceful, and it gave us time to be alone with each other but still in public as befitting couples our age. That Saturday was a beautiful, sunny day and a lot of people were out, strolling, biking, roller blading or skateboarding along the walking path that doubled as a biking path and ran parallel to the river, rafting or tubing down the river, or just sitting and enjoying the sun after what had been a long, cold winter. Sarah and I simply walked hand-in-hand, enjoying each other's company and talking, about school, classmates, and Friday's basketball game against McNealy High, typical conversation between two dating teens except for the lack of talk about the latest movies or teen singers. As Seventh-day Adventists, theatre and dancing were strictly taboo and from the ads constantly in our faces and impossible to avoid, we were not missing anything. Filled with sex, violence and drugs, they reflected the sinful world we live in and it is little wonder that young people, and older too, are so easily lead astray. Even television has succumbed to such vulgarity, and while not banned in our households like it is in many, our viewing is restricted to wholesome family shows and educational programs, of which there are not that many.

Unlike most high school students our age, we talked about the church's missions, in particular providing hospitals and health clinics in the developing nations of the third-world and the church's missionary program for youth, which we both intended on participating in when we came of age. As we walked, we passed a group of teenagers around our age, their ipads turned to top volume and the whiff of sweet smoke that even we were able to recognize, and our conversation turned to the current crisis of opioid abuse, the current drug of choice. We passed another group lasciviously dressed, the girls with their arms wrapped about each other and two guys actually sitting on a bench and kissing. It gave me the creeps to see and my skin crawled. I wondered how anyone could engage in such perversion, and even more so how they could do so in public. My dad is the Pastor Joseph Milne, and Sarah's father, Jonathan Stark, is one of the strongest supporters of our church and its missionary programs financially and morally and both have loudly denounced the latest trend of accepting and catering to the whims of the gay and so-called transgendered and have fought the government's push to even provide them student clubs and genderless washrooms, providing them a venue where they could spread their vile ways in the schools. According to my dad and Sarah's father, they are behind the thriving industry of child porn as another way of promoting their wicked beliefs.

I could see Sarah was disturbed by the lascivious behaviour also, and so I suggested we head over to the Max convenience store in the strip mall near where we lived for an ice cream and she readily agreed, and she turned the topic to the rally my father was organizing to protest the government's push for all schools to have gay-straight alliances, saying that they are nothing more than preying grounds for paedophiles and other perverts.

As we entered the strip mall, a red Camaro pulled in to the lot and two men got out, blocking the sidewalk in front of us. One was a giant of a man, an indigenous man from his appearance, late forties, three hundred plus pounds with double chins, a protruding gut and a broken, hawklike nose. He had high, prominent cheek bones, leathery reddish-brown skin, and black braids hanging halfway down his chest. He had to have been the ugliest man I have ever seen and that, on top of being native, left me feeling a great pity for him for there is little one can do about one's appearance and nothing one can do about the race one is born into. The other man was a black teen, athletically built and exceptionally good looking with unblemished, creamy skin the colour of tar. He wore his hair with a buzz cut along the sides with a wide strip of thick hair running down the centre like a Mohawk but long and stylishly combed. A third man, the driver, stayed in the car. They did not look like the type of men you wanted to mess with even though their lack of courtesy and regard for other pedestrians annoyed me, so I curbed my anger and my tongue in consideration that they were not white and civilized and began to step around them.

The next thing I knew the two men had pulled out handkerchiefs, and the Indian grabbing Sarah and the black grabbing me, they held them to our noses. I supposed they were soaked in chloroform, though I had never smelt chloroform before and had no idea what it smelled like, for I became dizzy and everything went black. When I came to Sarah and I were squeezed in the back of the Camaro with the Indian on one side and the black on the other and we were speeding along the highway away from the city. Turning onto a gravel side road only a few miles out for the city skyline still loomed large to the west, the driver pulled into a farmer's field and up to an old, abandoned barn that looked like it was about to topple over. The two men in the back seized Sarah and I and half carried and half dragged the two of us into the barn.

Dropping us on two old hay bales, they stood watch as the third man, the driver of the Camaro, a man in his early twenties, sharply dressed in charcoal grey slacks and a deep blue nylon shirt and darkly handsome with jet black hair and an olive-coloured skin that reminded me of someone of Mediterranean origin, set up a laptop on a large bale in front of us. He talked to someone on his cell, and then fiddled again with the computer, and to my surprise, my father's face came up on the screen.

"Good afternoon, Pastor Milne. So glad you are able to join us for this afternoon's entertainment." The man stood to the side of the computer so he could not be seen. His voice was cold and calculating and did not sound glad at all. This was a man who was accustomed to being listened to, and who didn't speak twice.

"What is this?" my father asked. His voice was cold too, and firm. He was also a man who was accustomed to being listened to, and who did not speak twice. The camera on the laptop was positioned so he had a full view of Sarah and myself but neither man on either side of us.

"I will be happy to explain, but first call in your wife so she can watch this also, and Sarah's parents. I know the four of you gather after church services for an early BBQ or Chinese take out. We're preparing a little BBQ of our own," he said, turning the screen to show a portable BBQ and ice chest they had brought in from the car.

"Whatever you have planned you have made a big mistake." That was my dad. A take charge, no nonsense sort of guy.

The Mediterranean-looking guy turned the screen back to us and nodded to the black. The black stepped forward, his back to the camera, and gave me a swift kick between the legs and I toppled forward onto my knees with excruciating pain that anyone who is a male experiences at sometime in their life. The two of them were take charge, no nonsense sort of guys also. Men of action, not talk. Sarah cried out in shock at such behaviour. I was in too much pain to cry out as I knelt there bent over and shamelessly clutching my crotch, tears streaming from my eyes.

"Now do as I told you and get your wife and the Starks. Ignore my demand a second time and my friend here will demonstrate his carving skills." The black pulled a switchblade out of his boot, flicked it open and made a couple fancy passes.

"You harm either–."

The man nodded. The black stepped up before me and reached out before anyone could react, the blade in his other hand flashed in the sunlight streaming in through a hole in the barn's roof, and I felt it brush along my forehead. He held up his index finger and thumb and rubbed them together and something black sprinkled through the air. I hesitantly reached up and felt above my eye, expecting to feel blood. The black sprinkles were the right half of my right eyebrow. The skin was smooth as if it had been shaved, which I had not yet begun to do being slow to begin growing facial hair and being blond, except for my eyebrows, and unbroken. He was good. And the knife razor sharp. The man zoomed the camera in on my face, and then swung the laptop over to a folding table on the other side of the hay bales. The case on the table was marked "Emergency Medical Kit."

"We figured we might have to do some minor surgery to convince you. An amputation or two. A toe, a finger, an earlobe. A teat. But not to worry. Chief here is a medicine man, heap powerful," he said, nodding to the Indian who of course was standing with his back to the computer. "Saw him stitch up and cauterize a man's nipple once that was a real piece of art. Start up the BBQ," he said to the black man. "If the kids' parents aren't looking in on the other side of that computer screen by the time we're ready to eat maybe we'll serve up a little human flesh for appetizers."

I had absolutely no doubt that he was serious, and I prayed that my father and the Starks felt the same way as I did. From the flurry of activity on the screen and the whispered mutterings they evidently did.

"So, you want to know what is going on," the stranger said once our parents were gathered. "Well, Pastor, this is all your fault. I want you to understand that, and you all to know that. Had you simply done what I had asked, none of this would be happening. None of it."

"What you had asked. What did you supposedly ask of me?"

"Supposedly? Oh I asked Pastor. I asked several times. I told you to stop, and if you didn't stop, I warned you that there would be consequences. I wrote you a letter May 8th, and another on May 11th. I sent you Email messages on the 15th, 17th, and 19th. I sent you messages on Twitter May 6, 9, 13, and 18. All which you ignored." He waved the pages he had referred to at the camera accusingly. "You too Stark. I wrote to you too, telling you to stop your persecution." Rifling through the papers again, he selected one and handed it to me and ordered me to read it.

Dear Pastor Milne.

This relentless attack of yours has to stop. I have asked you repeatedly to cease and desist and you continue to ignore me. No more! I fully understand your right to your opinions and I fully support your right to stand by them. This is a democratic country and I fully support democracy. But this preaching of hatred and discrimination against those whose only motives are love and admiration and labelling them as paedophiles and child pornographers and spreading lies about them must stop. Paedophiles are not gay as you have claimed! They are not faggots as you have claimed! Gays and faggots are men who love other men. Paedophiles are men and women who like and admire children and who find the innocence and wonder of childhood a pleasure and sexually stimulating. They are individuals dedicated to bringing physical pleasure, and the greatest physical pleasure of all, sexual pleasure, to children who otherwise are deprived of experiencing such pleasure by a misguided and ignorant society. And those who photograph and tape these children enjoying themselves and pleasuring others are causing them no harm. How can photographing these children to show other children how enjoyable sex is, and that they are not alone in engaging in sex and finding it pleasurable be harmful? How can filming and photographing children engaging in sex to show others that their sexual desires and feelings of pleasure are felt by others and are perfectly natural be harmful? How can the sharing of those pictures with others who can't be there in person to celebrate the sexual discovery and awareness of those children be harmful to anyone?

The rant went on for three pages, repetitive, sick ranting and justification for the behaviour of those he called boylovers.

So if you do not cease this continual attack through the social media, you will leave me no choice but to counteract your lies with the truth, and to expose your faulty beliefs. I warn, you lay off your attack on boylovers and child photographers or you and your family will personally suffer the consequences of your actions, and all the world will know you preach the biases of a false and jealous god."

He found more pages, these addressed to her father, and thrust them at Sarah to read, all the same as I had read, all saying to stop preaching on social media and stirring people up regarding innocent photographs of naked children and of children doing what is natural, having sex and enjoying it, alone, with other children, and with adults.

"I warned you. I warned you," he said, almost crying. "If you had listened this would not be necessary."

"Your argument is with me," my father reasoned calmly, "and with Jonathan. Let our children go and we will talk. Your argument is with us, not with them."

"Oh it is. By the words of their fathers you will know the words of their children. They both feel the same as you do. They both preach the same thing. The apple don't fall far from the tree." He turned and faced me. "Is it all right for a girl child to expose her breasts for another to photograph so others can admire them?"

"Of course not," I replied without thinking, still kneeling there on the floor of the barn.

"Is it all right for a boy child to suck the cock of a man?"

"No! Never!" Both were perverse. Those were the things that my father and the church were fighting against.

"Is it all right for the Chief here to fuck a girl your age?" he asked Sarah.

"Intercourse is for production of children, in the sanctity of marriage," she replied, looking up at him defiantly. I had to admire her courage, and for sticking to her values and beliefs.

"And so it goes. But there's more lies and falsehoods than just those about natural sexual pleasure. Lies and falsehoods to be purged from the minds of your innocent children, lies and falsehoods that you planted there." He turned the laptop camera to the BBQ which I had totally forgotten. The unmistakable stench of cooked meat wafted up from the grill, a stench I had not noticed being so focussed on his foul language and thoughts. "Thousands, millions, of children around the world enjoy the simple pleasure of a hot dog and a hamburger. What is more natural than a hotdog at a baseball game? Or stopping in at McDonalds or A and W for a burger? That's Canadian. That's American. You even have McDonalds in Europe and Asia for fucksake. But you don't believe in eating meat, do you?"

"You know we don't," my dad replied coldly

"Well, today your children are going to discover a joy millions of other children know and will know your prohibition on eating meat for the false belief that it is."

Taking a wiener off the grill and placing it in a hotdog bun, he doused it with relish and mustard and handed it to me. I of course refused to take it. The smell turned my stomach. The eating of animal flesh is strictly forbidden in our faith. Yes, we enjoyed a BBQ after services as he had said, and which made me wonder how he knew, but that was grilled vegetables and tofu burgers and other wholesome food. He slapped me in the face but I clamped my mouth shut and glared at him. The black stepped forward with an evil grin and flashed his knife, but still I defied them. I would show them the strength of my belief, and the strength of my faith in my father. The man they called Chief stepped forward and pinched my nose shut with one hand and pulled down my jaw with the other. The man stuffed half the hotdog in my mouth and the Indian closed my mouth and held his hand over it. I squirmed and struggled and tried to get to my feet and tried to open my mouth, all futile with his size and strength. I began to grow dizzy and I knew I had to swallow what was in my mouth before he would let me breathe. I knew he would have no qualms about letting me suffocate. I would have gladly suffocated, but my instinct for survival was stronger and my reflexes overpowered my mind. I chewed and swallowed. Sputtering and wheezing, I at last gasped for breath and the second half of the hotdog was stuffed in my mouth. I again resisted but again I could not fight the desire to live and I chewed and swallowed again. Another wiener followed, and then a hamburger.

They stopped and immediately my stomach revolted and I felt the vile contents of my stomach rising. The man had been prepared. He had expected me to upchuck and he had a clear mixing bowl ready. As I began to puke, he held the bowl up and caught the vomit as it spewed from my lips until I had vomited all they had forced down my throat. Humiliated and disgusted, I at least had the satisfaction of having shown him that he was not going to force me to do what I had been taught from birth was wrong. I looked down at the bowl of puke with disgust but satisfaction. Again the man called Chief held me down and pinched my nose shut and pulled open my mouth, and this time the man poured the bowl of chunky vomit back in my mouth, forcing me to swallow it in order to breathe, and I had no choice than to do so for I valued life more. He was sick. He and his friends laughed, saying I liked my first taste of meat so much I wanted to eat it all over again. They had not finished emptying the bowl when I emptied my stomach a second time.

"You can force him to do what he has been taught is wrong and that he knows is wrong, but you cannot make him like it," I heard my father taunt.

"You're gonna like it, and keep it down, if I have to pour it down your throat a dozen times," the man whispered flatly, for my ears only. Again he forced the sour chunks of half-chewed wiener and hamburger and buns and stomach slime down my throat. I knew he would do as he had whispered, and with the greatest of effort when my bile rose again I stopped myself from spewing it out and swallowed it back down. My eyes were burning and my mouth had a foul, sour taste, but I would not give him the pleasure of force feeding me my puke a third time. When he was done, he turned and stared at my father with that blank look that left you guessing what he was thinking.

They turned to Sarah and I pleaded with them to leave her alone, and offered to eat her share, and the man laughed and told my father and her parents to witness how much I had enjoyed my first meal of meat that I wanted Sarah's share. She of course defied them and refused to eat and they force-fed her as they had me, and of course she vomited it back up, causing my bile to rise again and I had to once more force it back down, much to their amusement, for I knew they would only force me to swallow it again. After Sarah emptied her stomach for the third time, they turned to me, and despite her protests, Chief once again grabbed me by the hair and drew my head back and their leader began to pour the vile contents into my mouth. I forced myself to swallow, determined that I could at least do that much for her. After feeding me two mouthfuls of her vomit, they turned again to her, and knowing what the alternative would be, she swallowed and forced herself to keep the foul contents down for my sake. We sat there with the vile, sour taste of puke in our mouths, and our faces and clothes bespattered with slime and chunks of our vomit as we stared at the floor of the barn and concentrated on keeping the contents of our stomachs down.

Opening up a case of beer, they each took a can and their leader opened up a second can and approached me. The partaking of any form of stimulant or narcotic is also strictly taboo in our faith, as I'm sure he was aware. He said it would get rid of the taste of puke but of course I refused to drink. Looking over at the Indian, he simply nodded toward me and the man stepped forward and grabbed me as he had before, tilting back my head and pinching shut my nose and pulling open my jaw. The other man poured the beer in my mouth and of course I had no choice but to swallow in order to breathe. It had a bitter taste and how people could actually enjoy drinking something so unpleasant I do not know, but he was right, it did get rid of the taste of vomit in my mouth. I swallowed the entire can, and two more and they then turned their attention to Sarah and forced her to do the same.

"How long have the two of you been going together?" their leader asked, turning his attention once again to me.

"Since September."

"And when did you first make out?"

"That is for those who are weak willed and weak minded," I replied after a moment. Our sexual life was none of his business, but I knew he would not leave it at that.

"The bitch playing hard to get?"

"That is not why we are going together."

He snorted. "Really? What sort of man are you?"

"There's more to a relationship than sex."

The three of them glanced at each other and guffawed. "I get it. You don't want to say in front of the folks," the leader said. He stepped over to the laptop and turned off the mic. "Okay, between us."

"I was speaking the truth."

He turned the microphone back on. "You hold hands?"

"Yes." That was no sin.

"Kiss?"

"Occasionally," I said after a pause. "In greeting, or saying goodnight." That was frowned upon, and there had been other occasions which I of course did not mention, but we had been dating seven months, and even those other times had been innocent.

"You play with her tits?"

"Of course not!" I replied, embarrassed for Sarah having to hear such language.

"Seen her cunt?"

"No." What sort of man used such language in front of the opposite sex?

"What about you?" he asked, turning to Sarah. "You play with his dick?"

"No!" she replied, shocked by his language and indignant that he would suggest she would do such a thing.

"His nuts?"

"That's crude."

"You play with yourself?"

"No," she replied, glaring at him.

"What about you?" he asked, turning again to me.

"Self abuse is a sin," I replied.

"Didn't ask if it was a sin. Asked if you do it."

"Of course not."

"You're telling us you've never jacked off thinking of your girl's boobs, or her cunt, or looking at pics of naked girls on the Internet?"

"No."

"What's with you? Don't you like girls?"

"Of course I do. I respect them."

"What do you think of that, Chief?"

"That is unnatural."

"Chief is into nature in a big way. Being one with nature is a big thing among his people."

It was for some of them, I knew. I also knew it was not for a large number of them.

"Well, we don't want anything unnatural going on between these wholesome young people. Strip the girl Chief and let's see what she'd been holding out on the boy."

The man grabbed her blouse and popped the buttons with one yank. I of course was immediately on my feet, and on my knees grasping my balls, the black having kneed me. As I knelt there in pain, I was conscious of the protests from our watching parents, but they could do even less than I. Despite my pain, I struggled to my feet. I'm no weakling but I'm no match for any of them. The black easily twisted my arm behind my back and backed me away. It took the other two barely more than a minute to strip the clothes off Sarah.

"Well, now, you've got a right nice rack there for a girl your age," their leader said as they backed away. Sarah sat there on the bale of hay, naked, her torn clothes scattered about her, her arms hanging at her side, her legs obscenely spread wide, exposed before the three men, before me, before her mother and father, and before my parents. I could not see their faces on the screen, but I suspect they were averting their eyes just as I was, and that they were filled with embarrassment and rage at her treatment. "Take a good look, Josh. A real good look." I knew I had no choice and I slowly raised my head and turned to look at Sarah, embarrassed for her, for our parents, for myself. Her breasts were full and round, not overly fat or overly large like some girls at school appeared to have. I suppose at the age of fifteen she was properly developed. Girls mature faster than boys. I'm really no authority, not having checked out pictures of girls in magazines or on the Internet like some guys, knowing no good would come of such things and it would only fill me with desires that could not be satisfied.

"And look at that pussy. Now isn't that the sweetest little hair pie a boy could see?"

I winced as the Indian reached between Sarah's legs and brushed the hairs away from her vulva with his fingers. She tensed with revulsion and fear.

"Okay, time for you to reveal all Joshua." Of course I had no intention of doing so willingly. Their leader grabbed me from behind and pinned back my arms and the black proceeded to rip off my shirt and pulled off my trousers and underwear. I struggled and kicked but could not stop them. They left me standing there, buck naked before Sarah and our parents. I did not bother trying to cover my privates with my hands, knowing they would only be batted away. "Not bad, not bad at all," their leader said as he looked me over appraisingly. "Thought perhaps you were lacking down there considering your lack of trying to make out. What do you think Sarah? How's your boyfriend compare to the naked studs you've been viewing on the Internet?"

"I haven't been doing any such thing on the Internet," Sarah retorted angrily, looking at him and not me. I had to admire her courage and defiance.

"Well then, have a good look now at your first naked male. Fitting it should be your boyfriend, isn't it after dating him all these months?"

She of course averted her eyes, blushing a bright crimson. She could not help having seen at least a cursory glance. I dared to glance at the laptop and saw my father's face, red with anger, and Sarah's father behind him. I could not see their wives and imagined they too had looked away. The leader stepped up to Sarah and raised and turned her head, forcing her to look directly at me. "Imagine what it would be like to suck on that hunk of sausage of his, or feel it between your legs."

"She doesn't seem much interested," the black said. "And seeing his girl naked doesn't seem to be have had any effect on the boy at all." It was the first time he had spoken and he had a very heavy, thick accent. We'd had an exchange student once who had an accent like his, a student from France.

"Maybe the boy doesn't like girls. Maybe he likes other boys instead. Is that it Joshua?"

"No!" I blurted, shocked by the suggestion, and afraid perhaps Sarah or my parents might think it was so. I knew the instant I spoke that he was egging me on, but I could not help it.

"Well, it's having an effect on the Chief, but that's no surprise. Chief here is a horny bastard. Go ahead Chief. Show the young girl here what a real man looks like. Maybe it will even turn on her boyfriend." The Indian didn't hesitate stepping out of his jeans and his underwear and chucking them aside along with his shirt. His penis was huge, and erect. Their leader stepped over to Sarah and forced her to look at him. "Well, since you're all ready and the boy isn't interested, you might as well go for it, Chief."

I, my parents, Sarah's parents, and Sarah all protested, but of course all our parents could do was shout their objection. Their leader and the black held me down as Chief approached Sarah, and of course she kicked and struggled, but there was nothing she could do with a man his size. Pinning her down on the bale of hay, he roughly caressed and squeezed her breasts and then kissed and sucked on them, holding back her hands and pinning her legs with his body. Pinning one arm under her and holding back the other, he reached down with his other hand and stroked her womanhood, caressing the fleshy lips and running a finger up and down along the slit. It was revolting to watch, but not knowing what he was doing would have been worse. Sarah squirmed and struggled but the man was strong and clearly experienced at forcing himself on a woman. As he ran his finger up along her slit she suddenly jerked and gasped as if in pain. He grunted with satisfaction and caressed the spot he had touched with the tip of his finger, really causing her to jerk and cry out and again I yelled at him to stop and pleaded that I would do anything if they would leave her alone, but my pleas fell on deaf ears.

Spreading her legs and kneeling between them, the Indian placed the tip of his large knob between her legs and began to press forward. She fought but he persisted, and finally with a cry of pain, Sarah arched her back and threw back her head and Chief sank his penis up her vagina. "Oh fucking Mother of God, she really is a virgin," he moaned.

"Was a virgin," their leader corrected, and he and the black laughed.

I am sure my parents and hers turned off the volume and turned away but I had no such alternatives. I of course looked away but a swift kick to my balls turned my attention back to the fornicating couple. I sat there helplessly and watched this beast, this ugliest of men, take his pleasure with my girlfriend. I honestly had not thought about our future, that being many years away, but in the back of my mind I had imagined us possibly becoming a family and having kids. I had not ever imagined having intercourse with her, knowing she would never do it and that thinking about it would only result in frustration and self-pollution. Now I sat there watching her doing it, watching this man thrusting his erect penis in and out of her body and listening to his grunting and snorting, like some bull in rut.

Sarah lay there sobbing but had stopped struggling, accepting what she could not prevent, ashamed I am sure being forced to engage in this sin, and humiliated beyond anything I can imagine having it witnessed by myself and her parents. I felt the deepest of sympathy for her, as embarrassed as if it were myself being raped, and of course total rage against the man and disgust with myself, being unable to do anything about it. The minutes ticked by with infuriating slowness as I stared at the two of them numbly. Having never thought about the act, I had no concept how long it took nor how long I was going to have to sit there and watch. The man was panting and snorting and I wished I could block the sound from my ears. Sarah had begun breathing heavily also, not gasping as he was and certainly not from pleasure, but breathing heavily nonetheless and I supposed no matter how degrading and how unpleasant the act was, her body had to be responding physically.

The man began to speed up, pumping his hips to and fro with short, quick thrusts, and he began snorting and groaning more loudly. Finally he cried out with a half-groan and half-gasp, whether in pleasure or pain it was difficult to tell, and he rammed his organ up Sarah's vagina as far as he could shove it and grasped her tightly. That could only mean one thing. He had to be shooting his seed into her, and that caused me such revulsion and horror my arms and legs turned to gooseflesh and I could not imagine how she had to be feeling, feeling his filthy seed filling her womb. He, obviously, was immensely satisfied. He thrust his hips to and fro perhaps half a dozen more times and at last drew his stiff organ out of her body, and despite the privacy of that act and my revulsion, I had to glance at his crotch and confirm what I had concluded as he stepped away from Sarah. His immense organ stuck up in the air, still erect and now covered with glistening slime, slime which I assumed had to be her juices, a bubble of slime at the tip which I guessed had to be the last drop of his seed.

"Now that was good," Chief said.

"Sounded like she was enjoying it too," their leader said.

"Naw, but she will, next time," the Indian said as he looked over at us. "Didn't arouse the boy none, but I see you two are packing."

"There's nothing like a live sex show to get the hormones flowing," their leader said as he pulled down his fly and pushed down his jeans. "I take tails. I want to be the first up this boy's ass."

"Then heads it is," the black said as he did likewise. "Watching that pretty face suck my dick is going to be a delight."

The two of them kicked off their shoes and stepped out of their jeans and underwear, and they removed their shirts and dropped them there on the barn floor so they were standing there only in their socks. Both had athletic builds, muscular arms and legs, broad shoulders and narrow waists, and well-developed pectorals, the black a bit shorter and more slender than their leader. The black was smooth chested and had shaved his armpits whereas the other's arms and legs, especially the forearms and shins, had a covering of long, black hair, and he had a dense mat of hair covering his chest and long pit hair. Both were erect and well hung, their members I figured to be twenty centimetres in length, the black's a bit more slender and uncut unlike the other. Forcing me to lie on my stomach on the hay bale, the leader roughly pulled my legs apart and knelt behind me while the black knelt in front of me and wagged his erect penis in my face.

"Take a good smell," he ordered. "There's gonna be a lot of cock in your future, and by the time we're done with you, you're gonna be lovin' it, but you'll never forget the smell and taste of your very first cock."

I had no choice with his crotch centimetres from my face. It had a tangy smell, a smell that reminded me of the odour of raw meat but an odour that was unique and unfamiliar to me. Meanwhile their leader worked up a mouth of spittle and drooled it over the bulb of his penis. When he was done, he spread apart the cheeks of my buttocks and I heard him spit and felt his spittle ooze down my crack to my anus. As he pressed the tip of his erect penis against my anus I immediately clenched it shut, resulting in four solid whacks across my buttocks, two on each cheek that left them hot and burning, and in a chop to my side that sent a sharp pain through my gut and caused me to immediately open up my anus.

Grasping my hips, he pressed forward, wedging open my sphincter with the tip of his penis. I opened wider in the hopes of reducing the pain and his knob slowly stretched open my anus as he continued to press forward. Despite my tightness and his size, his knob at last popped inside and he pressed forward more easily, driving his cock up my ass. He pushed it in as far as he could, until his hairs were pressing against my buttocks. As he drew back, I felt his stiff cock easing back out of my body and it was not unlike taking a crap. As his knob began to stretch open my anus, he stopped and sank his cock back up my rectum, sending a burning irritation circling about my clenched anus and a shock through my groin as the knob of his cock brushed against a tender spot half way up my rectum. His hairs pressed again against my buttocks and then he was drawing his cock back out. I was engaging in my first fuck, except it was nothing like I had expected it to be. I was the one being penetrated. I was the one being fucked. I was being used as a girl for this stranger's pleasure.

And then the black stepped forward and though I knew it would be useless, I clamped my lips shut. Bending over, he reached out and grabbing my right teat he gave it a twist, causing me to pull back and cry out with the pain. The knob of his cock was pressing against my lips before I could clamp them closed again and he whispered that if I tried anything funny with my teeth he'd yank them out one by one and Chief would make them into a necklace for my girl. I had no doubt that they would. He thrust the head of his cock into my mouth and as I immediately began to gag he grasped my head and held it in place. Knowing I had no choice, I fought back the reflex. He ordered me to begin sucking and I closing my lips about his cock and I did so.

I could not believe what was happening. I was lying there on a bale of hay, sucking on a cock, a black man's erect cock, while another man was thrusting his cock in and out of my ass, my girl lying there recovering from her own rape and now witnessing mine, our parents watching. Never have I felt so filthy and so humiliated in my life. I was engaging in sex for the first time in my life, that most private and special activity a man can engage in, and not as a man should be engaging, but in two of the most disgusting and filthiest acts a man can participate in. The black told me to slide my lips up and down his shaft, and I obeyed, knowing I had no choice, tasting for the first time in my life a black man's cock. In my mind the taste was as bad as the taste of the wiener I had been forced to eat, and it took all my effort and concentration not to vomit. I slipped my lips down ever so slowly, each time going just a hairbreadth further so as not to gag, and to my relief he seemed satisfied with that. My mouth filled with saliva and as I swallowed the cock-flavoured spittle my arms and legs to turn to gooseflesh.

Meanwhile behind me my other assailant was pumping his hips to and fro, also slowly, but each time thrusting his cock in as far as he could until his coarse hairs were pressing against backside, and withdrawing until my sphincter was stretched and it felt like his cock was about to pop out. I could not help squirming each time his knob rubbed against the sensitive spot up my rectum, and I had to wonder why God had created man with a pleasure spot in that particular location that could only be stimulated by another man sticking his penis up one's rectum. The possibility that God had created man for just such a purpose was impossible. I could not believe I had sunk to such depravity as to have such a thought at such a time as that, but what I was engaged in was so shameful and sick I no longer had control of my mind. The shocks of pleasure originating from that spot up my rectum along with the burning stimulation around the rim of my anus and feeling his solid flesh throbbing inside my body caused my own penis to begin to swell with arousal, adding to my confusion, and to my despair and humiliation.

I could not imagine what my parents were thinking as they watched my debasement and how embarrassed Sarah had to be being forced to watch me engaging in such perversity. My two attackers had begun breathing more heavily and knowing their goal was the depositing of their seed up my body sent me into even further depths of despair. I could not imagine how filthy and perverted Sarah had to be feeling having her womb filled with the filthy Indian's seed but I knew I about to find out what it had been like for her. My jaw began to ache with weariness and the taste of the black man's filthy cock and the musky scent wafting up from his crotch was making me nauseous. The smell and taste would forever be etched in my mind.

Finally he grasped my head and drawing his cock back, he gasped that he was coming. A second later his foul, thick semen spurted into my mouth, bitter and slimy and revoltingly warm. Spurt after spurt of his gooey semen shot into my mouth, filling it and forcing me to swallow and I shuddered in revulsion as this black man's slime oozed down my throat. I was still swallowing and fighting back the reflex to vomit when the man behind me grasped my hips and rammed his cock up my anus and I felt the first of his hot seed spurt up my rectum. Spurt after spurt shot up my ass and I had some sense of the revulsion Sarah had to have felt having a man's seed shot into the depths of her body. My rectum was being filled with another man's filthy semen.

The two men snorted and gasped with obvious pleasure and I could do nothing but lie there, the vessel for their foul seed. The taste of cock and semen on my tongue and the scent of sweat and a black man's balls filling my nose filling my lungs, and the feel of a man's stiff cock throbbing up my ass and the feel of his hot slime spurting up my rectum, I was truly shamed and humiliated beyond description. I know many men would find the physical sensations I was experiencing and what I had just done the greatest of pleasures, my father having ranted against the sin and the perversity of men who would engage in such acts as I had just engaged in, and I know my father had to be enraged and humiliated beyond comprehension having had to watch his son engage in such sinful and dirty acts. I myself could not feel more filthy nor humiliated as I lay there numb and gasping for breath. The two men at last withdrew their cocks from my body and stepped back, their members still stiff and now shiny, with my spittle, with my ass slime, and from their seed.

I was ordered to sit up and I did so dazed and uncaring for there was nothing worse that they could do to me, and I stared at the floor in bitter dejection and abasement. I was wrong about the depth of their depravity. Their leader ordered me to masturbate, and when I sat there numbly and ignored the order, caring not what they did to me as a result, and God forgive me, even hoping for death, their leader ordered me again, adding that if I did not then he would have Sarah to do it to me. I reached down and wrapped my fingers about my partially erect penis and began to rub it. I had never done it before, having been taught as a toddler that to touch oneself there was a sin and having been punished when I had been tempted to do so. I was tempted to try it as a teenager but the fear of God, and my father, and seeing my classmates mimic the action and make a joke of those who did such a thing prevented me from trying it.

So I slowly stroked my penis and I looked up directly into the laptop camera when demanded, and stared into the horrified faces of my parents. You could see the anger in my dad's eyes and in the firm set of his lips, and you could see in my mother's eyes her despair and pity. I stared back, humiliated and ashamed. Sarah was forced to watch me, adding to my embarrassment. My member slowly began to swell, not out of pleasure but out of shear physical stimulation, gradually becoming stiff as it sometimes did while I was sleeping, but this stiffness was not the result of a full bladder. The rim of my knob burned with irritation, an itch that was both pleasant and painful at the same time, a feeling not unlike a mosquito bite, and like a mosquito bite, an itch that felt better when rubbed.

At last I felt an ache, a need one feels just before one is about to urinate, followed by a burning sensation up the core of my penis, not unlike the feeling a man has when he is about to urinate, but I knew what was racing up the core of my stiff penis was not urine. The first of my seed, thin and watery and looking like congealed eye white, spurted out of the opening of my penis and landed in a blob between my feet quickly followed by more. Spurt after spurt shot from my stiff penis and my stiff cock obscenely burned with pleasure as I sat there and spilt my seed for the first time of my life, by my own hand, in front of my girl and her and my parents. I could not deny the physical pleasure of that release but mentally I felt only humiliation and filthiness.

"Now that calls for a celebration," the leader said, handing Sarah and me each a can of beer. "I know you Adventists make a big deal about your belief in the second coming of Christ. Well, to us one's first orgasm is an even better deal. Here is to the first coming of Joshua and Sarah." He raised his can and took a long swing, as did his two companions. He was the only one to think his comment funny. I doubt if his two companions even had any idea what he was talking about regarding Jesus. I took a long draught of the beer to get rid of the taste of semen and cock in my mouth, and then a second and a third. I knew if I didn't drink they would only pour it down our throats, and I suspect knowing that was Sarah's reasoning for drinking the alcohol also. We drank a second and third can, no longer caring.

I do not know how long time lapsed, my mind having retreated to a place where nobody could access it, where it could block out all that had happened and did not have to deal with the horrors I had experienced, no doubt aided by the effects of the alcohol. However, at some point I became conscious that the man called Chief was once again assaulting my girl and my mind once again became aware of what was happening around me. Whether it was her defiance, or her fear, or her humiliation, I have no idea, but I was brutally back sitting on that bale of hay watching as Chief once again had his pleasure with Sarah, once again spreading her legs as she lie on her back on the bale beside me and penetrating her. I watched his fat, hairy backside bobbing as he thrust his hips to and fro, once again ravishing her beautiful body, once again thrusting his huge, stiff cock in and out of her vagina. His second time took even longer, and before he was done Sarah was trembling and bucking with the physical response of her body, unable to ignore the physical stimulation, and the two men watching cheered and praised Chief for his manliness and for showing Sarah what pleasure she could have with a man. I knew she was feeling no pleasure despite what I was seeing. So did her parents. What threat had been used I have no idea, but they sat there and watched their daughter being raped, their faces stunned and blank, their voices silent.

When Chief was done, their leader denounced my father, telling him how this was all his fault, and how it could have been avoided had he heeded the man's request, and how he deserved everything that he had witnessed and was about to. He and the other man then approached me and told me to again lie down on my stomach and I obeyed them meekly, there being nothing they could do to humiliate me any further and my only wish being to get this over with. This time it was the black who took me from behind. Like his leader, he drooled his spittle over the knob of his cock and he pulled apart my ass cheeks and he spat on my anus. He then placed the tip of his stiff, spittle-coated cock against my anus and pushed forward. I did not try to resist, knowing it would be useless. His knob stretched open my sphincter and popped inside my rectum, and he sank his long, slender, black cock up my ass. As he began to pump it in and out of my rectum, once again there was a burning ring of fire about my anus and again I jerked each time his knob pressed against the sensitive spot up my rectum.

The other man stepped in front of me. His cock was erect and had a shine to it. I had not noticed him cleaning himself after having had his cock up my ass, and I suspect he had not. As the black man had done, he had me smell his crotch and I noted it had a different odour than the black's. It was not the smell of shit and I wondered if all white men smelled one way and if all blacks another, and if the Indian's cock would have a third taste and odour, or if the odour was unique for each man. It was a perverted thought, the thought of a crazed man. I opened my mouth and took his cock in my mouth, fighting back the urge to gag knowing that the cock in my mouth had only recently been up my ass. The taste was different from the black's also but was not as foul as I had thought it would be considering where it had been last. I closed my lips and sucked on it and began slipping my lips up and down the shaft, eager to have this over and done with. The black laughed and observed how eager I was to suck the man's cock, and that all it had taken was the one time with him. He was ramming his cock in and out of my ass and he observed that I was must be enjoying it also as I was rod stiff. I did not realize it, but I was. I was instructed to reach down and masturbate, and I did so obediently and they laughed about how easily I had been corrupted.

I knew that was false, and I knew my parents knew that also. Myself I had reached the end and no longer cared. With one man's cock up my ass and another man's cock in my mouth, I lay there on the bale of hay and stroked myself like some wanton pervert. I suppose the beer I had consumed had much to do with it. Having never consumed alcohol before, I found it difficult to focus on what was happening or to draw upon any reserve to resist. I was vaguely aware of the black man's cock pumping in and out of my ass and of the burning of my anus and of the jolts of arousal shooting through my groin from deep up my rectum. My mind was fuzzy but I was aware that I had a filthy cock in my mouth and that I was sucking on it as a babe sucks on a bottle and working my lips up and down the shaft. I was aware of a third swollen cock, my own, and the pleasure ringing my knob as I pumped my fist up and down my shaft. And despite my muddle mind, I was aware of my girl and our parents watching me.

And then the black was shooting his seed up my ass to join that of his leader, squirt after squirt of his hot jizz shooting deep up my rectum to mix with the earlier load of cum that had been deposited up my ass. He was still squirting when their leader began spurting his seed in my mouth. It was thick and gooey and bitter and I could feel it sticking to the roof of my mouth and to my throat as I swallowed it, adding it to the slime of the black man in my stomach. Both of them were still squirting their seed in my body when I began spurting my own seed, for the second time in my life, spraying the bale of hay I was spread out on. The three of us emptied our balls there before my girl and our parents, gasping and snorting and trembling with our release.

"I don't know about the second coming of Christ you Adventists preach about, but you've witnessed the second coming of your children," their leader observed to the computer screen as he and the black finally withdrew their cocks and the three men laughed. They opened up another round of beer and took long, celebratory swigs of the cans and I sat there in a daze, a pendant of my seed hanging from my now semierect penis as the leader got into a debate with my father, the two of them shouting.

Finally turning away, he looked about the barn and returned with an old, beat up pail and I got the impression that they had used this barn before and he had known it was there. He stood there before it, and before all of us, and emptied his bladder. His two companions stepped up and each took his turn, and the smell of piss and the sight and sound of them pissing aroused the need in me also, not surprising considering the amount of beer I had drank. First they lead Sarah over to the pail. She tottered on her feet and they had to hold her up as they had her squat above the pail and empty her bladder in front of all of us and the camera on the laptop. She blushed with embarrassment but she had to respond to the call of nature. And then it was my turn, and as I stood I almost fell over, and they laughed as I wove over to the pail, the floor of the barn suddenly sloping and shifting beneath my feet. I had to focus to hit the pail, but like Sarah, I had no choice but to answer the call.

"I know you're both great believers in baptism also," their leader said. It dawned on my fuzzy mind that he knew an awful lot about our faith. Why? "Since today you're entering a new life, I think you should be baptised again, reborn into your new life." He nodded to his two companions and grabbing me, they forced me to my knees before the pail now half filled with urine. While the Indian pinned my arms and held me down on my knees, the black forced my head into the pail and held it there until I could hold my breath no longer and began swallowing in desperation for air. "Witness the birth of Joshua, henceforth to be known as the lover of cock and jizz," he mimicked. As I knelt there sputtering with piss dripping from my hair and down my face, they dragged Sarah forward and plunged her face in the bucket, and he pronounced her also as the lover of cock and jizz.

The room was spinning around me and everything was a blur. I was vaguely aware of their leader and my father shouting at each other, about revenge, retribution, and eternal damnation, each accusing and threatening the other. At some point their conversation ended. Who cut off the connection first I do not know. Only vaguely I remember putting on my torn and tattered clothes and Sarah and I being helped back to the car. I remember nothing of the trip back into the city and I suspect I passed out. I don't know how long I was unconscious but when I next came to it was dark. We were in what appeared to be a hotel room, a cheap hotel with a worn carpet, nicked and gouged walls, a wobbly wooden chair and scratched dresser, a king-sized bed, and a drab, stained, partially closed curtain beyond which I could see the city lights. A camera on a tripod had been set up in the middle of the room.

Sarah and I were dressed, but we were not in our clothes. Sarah was wearing a gaudy, low-cut dress with the hem halfway up her thighs, and I was wearing a black shirt and black jeans, both skintight. We were taken into the hallway by Chief, whom we were told was a Plains Cree, and the black man, who spoke with a very thick French accent who said his name was Kwame Bonsu and that he was a recent immigrant from C�te d'Ivoire. When we reentered the room, Chief with his arm about Sarah, and the black man with his arm about me, their leader, whose name we never learned, was waiting with his camera running.

Sitting side by side on the bed, Chief and Sarah kissed and caressed as did Kwame and I, and we slowly disrobed each other. I was disgusted, as I knew was Sarah, but after what we had been through we knew we had no choice but to cooperate. I suspect our dispassionate performance was in keeping with the characters we were portraying, as the lascivious behaviour of Chief and Kwame was an accurate portrayal of their real personalities. Naked, Sarah and I then laid down on the bed side by side, our backsides raised on large, lumpy pillows. Chief smiled down at both of us and then spreading apart Sarah's legs, he knelt between them and mounted her with one slow, effortless penetration, the penetration and Sarah's face caught in closeup by the camera. Kwame similarly smiled down at the two of us and spreading apart my legs, knelt between them and mounted me also with one slow, effortless penetration, also caught in closeup by the camera along with my face and Kwame's.

They proceeded to fuck us as we lie there side by side, the camera capturing both of us and then zooming in on our united crotches and on our faces. The bed creaked as they thrust their hips forward, Chief driving his stiff cock up Sarah's vagina and Kwame driving his up my rectum, and then the two withdrawing. The two of them were soon grunting and panting with lust, having no qualms about performing before the camera or before each other. Sarah and I were breathing heavily ourselves, our bodies responding to the physical stimulation despite the embarrassment and depravity of the two of us being fucked side by side, our minds resisting but our bodies unable to do so. Chief thumbed Sarah's nipples, causing them to become firm and adding to her arousal, and Kwame did the same to mine, sending stabs of painful pleasure through my irritated flesh as my nipples became hard and burned between his thumb and fingers just as my anus and the knob of my cock were burning.

At last Sarah cried out and began bouncing on the bed, thrusting her body upward, impaling herself on Chief's lance, and then drawing back, unable to control her body as she thrashed in the throes of her orgasm. Chief grunted and thrust his hips forward and he gasped with obvious pleasure as he began to spurt his seed deep up her womb for the third time. And then Kwame tensed and he groaned out with pleasure and I felt his solid cock throbbing and his seed spurting up my rectum for a second time and unable to control myself I began jerking my hips as I felt my orgasm approaching, and I arched my back and gasping with my climax, my third that day, the third in my life, spraying my chest and stomach with my hot slime, now thick and gooey, and I quivered as I felt it ooze down over my ribs.

As they got up and began to dress and the camera was shut off, I lay there wondering when this was all going to end and we would be allowed to return home. Our mothers would be relieved and would welcome us, but they would not be able to hide their embarrassment and shame for what they had witnessed. My father would be angry and determined to revenge my abuse, as would Sarah's father. Neither would admit any responsibility for what had happened to us, and I, and I knew Sarah, could not blame them for standing up for what they believed was right. I slowly realized in the back of my mind that despite all their cleverness, our assaulters had made several mistakes. Their leader had been careful not to reveal Chief and Kwame in the barn, but he had made no effort to hide their faces in the film they had just taken. When they tired of their game and let us go, or we escaped, we'd not only be able to identify them but we knew there was evidence of who they were on film, and we had been told the black's name. That had been foolish. As I thought about it, it was only then that for the first time since our capture I realized they had no intention of releasing us, nor was it going to be very likely we were going to escape.

Chapter 7
Dimitri's Sleep Overs

Having missed the opportunity to have sleep overs as a teenager, following his twenty-third birthday Dimitri starts inviting boys over to spend the night, beginning with his 14yo tutor Justin, followed by a 16yo doper, two 14yo buddies who exchange videos in a teen chat room, and two brothers 16 and 8. Told by Dimitri's 16yo brother Nikos who spies on them.

Characters: Dimitri (23yo), Brad (16yo), Derek and Liam (14yo), Kwame, brothers 16 and 8.

Dimitri has never tried anything untoward with me personally and not once have I ever see him become violent with anyone, not even raise his voice in anger, still he scares the crap out of me. I had turned eight two months before he had been kidnapped; he had turned fourteen four months earlier. Six years is a big difference between brothers when you are that young. We had nothing in common. I was beginning grade three; he was beginning grade nine. I was struggling with multiplication tables, he was struggling with algebra, I spent my free time playing with Lego blocks and my super hero action figures with my buddies, he spent his chatting to girls on the phone and practising basketball. Though I don't have many memories about him and me those first eight years, those I do have are fond ones, him teaching me how to ride a two-wheeler, the two of us tossing a football in the park Sunday afternoons, and me looking up to him as my older and wiser brother and my protector. Because of our age difference we were not close, but we were a close-knit family and every holiday was a family event.

Some things are still the same, but others are very different now. The Dimitri living in our home now is a very different person from the one who left eight years ago. He spends most of his time in his room, in the dark, and he rarely talks. My mother had prayed for his safe return every day for eight years, and doubly so every Sunday. When she learned he had been found I have never seen her happier, and when he returned she fussed over him as if he were still a child, trying to make up for the eight years he was gone I suppose, and smothered him with her love, I suppose in the hope that it would replace the pain and sorrow he had felt all those years, or perhaps her own pain and sorrow. She quickly learned that he was not the same son as he had been at fourteen, just as I quickly learned he was not the same brother. He did not want her affection, and not even her attention. That I could not and still do not understand. I know it hurt her, badly, and for that, God forgive me, I hate him.

Of course my dad also had been overjoyed that Dimitri had been found, but he too had changed. Much had happened to him since Dimitri had been kidnapped. He had seen much wickedness in his search for Dimitri, things he was unable to share with any of us, and having seen the evil in the world that the rest of the family had been sheltered from, he had been hardened and disillusioned, but not once had he ever given up hope those eight years. Even now, seeing Dimitri's rejection of my mother's love and seeing him withdrawing deeper and deeper into that shell he had built around himself and that none of us could penetrate, he still clung onto hope and though ragged and worn, he was still the family's rock. Still, when you are the youngest in the family and sixteen and your dad is fifty-eight, you live in different worlds.

We are a close family, united by traditions and old-fashioned, old-world values and a Christian faith instilled in us by example by our parents. My oldest brother and my sisters and their spouses were just as supportive and as caring as my parents though more cautious and more suspicious, but then there is no love as strong as that of a parent for a child, nor as blind. They had tried to reach out to him, but he rejected them as he did my parents. When Dimitri and his friend had been kidnapped there had been a massive manhunt for their kidnappers, particularly since Dimitri's friend was the son of a policeman and it was widely reported that the kidnapping had been in retaliation against the police crackdown on child pornography. It was reported that the kidnappers were paedophiles, and there were many rumours circulating regarding the kidnapping of my brother and his friend, including rumours about what he and his friend had been forced to do with the kidnappers. I remember that well for some of the stories were devastating for an eight-year-old boy to hear about his brother, and I had ended up in more than one fight defending my brother's honour against rumours I did not fully understand.

Always looking for the sensational to increase the sales of their newspapers, upon learning of Dimitri's return reporters descended upon our house like vultures seeking interviews with Dimitri and the family, and they were not prepared to take no for an answer until finally they were issued a court order to leave us alone. We all knew from newspaper reports that Dimitri had been found in connection with an investigation into a kiddy porn operation, and that he himself had been found engaging in sex with minors and at one point charges against him had been considered. We knew that one of the conditions of his return was that he had to see a psychiatrist, and another was that he was to report to a probation officer once a week. We also knew that he was not allowed anywhere where there were children under the age if eighteen, schools, pools, playgrounds, and anywhere else that children might gather. That had been three months ago and he still had another month to go before his status was to be reviewed to determined whether or not he was a threat to public safety.

None of us wanted to offend him or upset him but we had no idea what to say or do and his silence and withdrawal did not make it easy for us. It was like walking on eggshells. In that we were living at home with him it was particularly difficult for myself and my sister Anna. What really gave me the creeps was the way you would find him looking at you. Anna confessed she felt he was stripping her of her clothes and imaging her naked and doing stuff with him. For me it was more like he had stripped me of both my clothes and my flesh and was studying my organs and considering rearranging them. That vacant, detached look was unnerving and gave me gooseflesh.

Mother's Day was May 14, the day after my sister Maria's thirty-third birthday. We all went to church as our family did, and afterward we met at my parent's home to celebrate even though the day before the family had gathered at Chestermere Lake to celebrate Maria's birthday. There were presents of flowers and clothes and jewellery with my mother's usual protests that it was all too expensive and she did not deserve such attention, and the family's reply that nothing was too expensive for her and she deserved all the attention she got, and orders to relax and let the family treat her for a change, even though we all knew she had spent two days before baking everyone's favourites for today. Even Dimitri had boughten her a gift, a very expensive and beautiful sweater, which surprised everyone considering his detachment these past three months and gave everyone a glimmer of hope. Also contrary to his usual behaviour, I noticed Dimitri was being particularly attentive that afternoon to my two seven-year-old nephews, Domi and Marcus, and was at times almost smiling. I was not the only one who was aware of his attention. I noted the boys' parents had also noticed and in fact were watching him very closely, and they were definitely not smiling. They were clearly uncomfortable.

The following Sunday was Dimitri's birthday, his twenty-third, another very awkward occasion. None of us knew anything about his current personal interests, and he had made it very clear upon his return that he wanted nothing to do with the family. It had only been two weeks ago that he had surprised us all and attended church with us for the first time since his return. Poppa had said it had been the idea of the tutor Saint Joseph's had recommended for him and who had joined us in church that morning, and Momma said it was the result of her constant prayers, but it had been the first break in that shell he had surrounded himself in that any of us had seen and we were not about to question why he had suddenly decided to begin attending church again and I am sure I was not the only one to offer God a little prayer of thanks.

I did find the presence of a tutor puzzling. The boy was only fourteen and we all knew Dimitri was not to associate with anyone under eighteen, and the boy had apparently been tutoring him twice a week for the past month. True it was in our home and Momma was always home so the two were never technically alone but it was curious the school would make such a recommendation knowing Dimitri's conditions. I also found it curious that the boy had joined us at church again this Sunday, sitting beside Dimitri, and had returned home with us for Dimitri's birthday. I am sure I was not the only one who could not help notice they sat side by side, and every time I looked Dimitri was pressing his leg against the boy's leg, or had his hand on his thigh, and dangerously close to his crotch. It was too often to be accidental.

Also, whether it was because I had first noticed it the previous Sunday, or because they were being more obvious about it, but I could not help notice Dimitri's attention to our two nephews Domi and Marcus. Never showing any affection, he tousled the boys' hair and wrapped his arm about them, placing a hand on their butts or their thighs, and the boys in return placed their hands on his thigh, also dangerously close to his crotch, clearly adoring him. Lucas, on the other hand, held back, sticking close to his father, and his glances at Dimitri or his cousins were definitely apprehensive, and to me, fearful. I was not the only one to notice and there were many glances exchanged between Alex and Mikala, Domi's parents, between Sophia and Anthony, Marcus's parents, and between Maria and John, Lucas's parents.

Anthony in fact was about to step forward when our family gathering was interrupted. Two city police arrived at the door asking to speak to Dimitri. Poppa of course demanded to know why, and insisted on being present, it being his home and his son, and Dimitri not only did not protest but preferred his father be present. The family occupying the living and dining rooms and the kitchen, the four of them went to Dimitri's room, and as was his habit, Dimitri left the door wide open. I headed directly to my room, which was the room in the basement directly beneath Dimitri's. Years ago it had been the room of my brother Alex and when he moved out and I moved in he had shared the secret that if one listened carefully he could hear the conversation in the room above, which had been a guest room when he had moved into the basement bedroom and was later Dimitri's, and that the two of them had shared midnight conversations through the air duct. I had never talked to Dimitri about that, and had never been that interested in his conversations with his friends prior to his abduction. Now, I closed my door and stood up on the bed, my ear to the heating vent as I strained to hear.

The police had come to question his whereabouts on Saturday. Apparently a boy and his girlfriend had gone missing. Dimitri replied that he had been home that morning until eleven and then had gone down to The Well, a drop-in centre for the homeless where he had helped serve lunch, and then play cards for the afternoon, a community service he had been engaging in since his return as part of his psychiatric program, and that any number of people at the centre would verify that was what he had done. The evening he spent back at home. Poppa verified his claim. In that he spent most of the time in his room, I had no way of knowing if he had spoken the truth or not. They said they were also looking for two individuals, an indigenous man in his forties or older, and a young black, late teens or early twenties, and asked if he knew any individuals fitting that description. Dimitri evasively replied that could fit any number of homeless he served.

They also asked if he knew a certain pastor, a Pastor Milne, and Dimitri replied that he had heard that the man spoke against homosexuals and paedophiles and pornographers, and was said to be a self righteous, pompous, attention-seeking dick who was actually more interested in building up his reputation than the welfare of those he claimed to be protecting, and that was just what he had heard, and that he had never met the man himself. He said it in that flat, dispassionate tone of his and I could imagine him staring at the two policemen with that blank dead-eyed look. They tried to egg him on, asking him how that made him feel and stuff, but Dimitri was as cool as a cucumber, and it was Poppa who lost his temper and asked them if they were making accusations, and asking why they were not out in the streets looking for these missing children instead of harassing innocent families. The session did not go well and the policemen got nowhere.

The following Thursday, Justin came over to tutor Dimitri in math as he had been doing every Thursday. Thursdays I had basketball practice after school and Anna had music lessons so by the time we returned home and Poppa was finished work, Justin had gone. At supper Dimitri announced that he had invited the boy over for a sleep-over on Saturday, explaining with that dead pan look that it was an experience that had been cut short with his kidnapping and that his psychiatrist said it would be good for him and would help him get over his anger and sense of loss of that part of growing up. Poppa pointed out the boy was fourteen, and Dimitri replied that was the point, that was what fourteen-year-old boys did and he had not. Momma of course was willing to do whatever pleased Dimitri, and Poppa didn't want to upset Momma, and though Dimitri was not to frequent where there were children under eighteen, technically they did not say a fourteen-year-old could not frequent where he lived. So, Justin arrived that Saturday evening with his night bag and his pajamas, a fourteen-year-old boy having a sleep over with a twenty-three-year-old man. I selected a disc of my favourite band and turned up the volume, but my mind was on what I was imagining was happening upstairs.

The following Saturday night it was a different boy, a sixteen-year-old grade ten student by the name of Brad from Saint Joseph's. I didn't know him, but I knew of him, and the gang he ran with. They were all dopers, big time. This time Dimitri didn't ask beforehand. The boy just showed up on our doorstep. I went out with my girlfriend Elaina as we usually did Saturday night. When I returned home from our date, the house was in darkness. I slipped into the kitchen for a class of milk and a couple cookies from the jar Momma alway kept stocked. I was about to switch on the light when I heard voices from the back patio, Dimitri and Brad. The kitchen window was open and I could smell the distinct, sweet odour of grass over the scented candles my mother had boughten to keep away mosquitoes. "Dude, this has to be the best shit I've ever smoked." Brad's voice.

"Columbian."

"Sweet."

"So are you."

"Hey, man, I told ya, I don't swing that way." Dimitri said something I didn't hear. I moved closer to the open window and dared to peek through. "Really, dude, I mean it." They were sitting on the patio swing. Dimitri had an arm around the boy and the other in his lap. The boy was trying to pull away.

"When you hit me up for some spare change at the mall and I told you if you came over Saturday night I'd give you a free sample of the best shit you've ever smoked, what did you think I had in mind?"

"Well…"

"Honestly."

"Okay, I figured you had something in mind. Nobody's gonna give stuff this good away for free. But I figured maybe you wanted me to sell for you, or connect you up with a supply of customers, not, well, you know. I can do that for you, hook you up with customers."

"You can do something a lot better." I heard the kid's fly being pulled down. Before the kid could pull away Dimitri leaned over. He kissed him.

"I gotta go."

"Grass, pills, booze, opioids, anything you want. Enough to keep you high all week. Free."

The kid's shirt was half unbuttoned and Dimitri unbuttoned it the rest of the way. He caressed the boy's chest and the boy jerked as Dimitri's fingers brushed over his nipples. "Just relax and I can make you feel higher than any chemical can ever make you feel."

"I doubt that," the boy said nervously. Dimitri bent over and took the boy's nipple in his mouth. The boy tensed and gasped. He took a long drag on the weed he was smoking and held it in. Dimitri brushed the hair out of the boy's eyes and smiled down at him as the boy exhaled.

"I can make you feel better than any girl will ever be able to make you feel."

"Now that I totally doubt."

"You will see," Dimitri whispered, burying his face in the boy's neck and slipping his hand in the boy's open fly. The weed dropped to the deck forgotten.

I could have slipped way and down to my room. I should have. But I didn't. I crouched there by the open window behind the potted violets and watched and listened, the milk and kourambiedes forgotten. Dimitri kissed the boy again, a long, passionate kiss, and then kissed his chest. He kissed and sucked on one nipple and then the other until they were hard and the boy was squirming with arousal, and then continued to kiss down his smooth chest. A woman's breasts I was aware of. I had never considered a man's chest and was surprised. The boy was slender but his muscles defined, which was also surprising considering he was not into any sports. Unbuckling Brad's belt and popping the button of his jeans, Dimitri opened them up and pulled them down off the Brad's hips. The boy was wearing boxers, blue and white stripes. He raised his hips obligingly as Dimitri pulled them down off his hips. He had a thick bush of hairs, and he was either well-endowed or had begun getting aroused. Dimitri slipped off the patio swing and kneeling before the boy, he went down on him. He knelt there and took the boy's dick in his mouth! I had expected the situation to be reversed, the boy on his knees with Dimitri's dick in his mouth.

His cheeks sunk in as he sucked on it, and then he slowly slipped his lips down, taking his whole cock in his mouth. The kid was still limp but had to be a good ten centimetres long. Dimitri continued sucking as he slid his lips back up the kid's shaft and then slid his lips back down. When he finally withdrew his lips, the boy was stiff, his pecker sticking straight up in the air. It had grown another two and a half centimetres. Dimitri pushed the kid's jeans and underwear further down and rolled the boy's balls in their sack and he leaned forward and ran his tongue up the boy's shaft. The boy was breathing heavily. He ran his tongue around the rim of the boy's knob and in the flickering candlelight I saw a droplet of his precum bubble at the tip of his blood-engorged cock. Dimitri flicked it up with the tip of his finger and reaching up, he painted the boy's parted lips with his own precum. The boy's eyes were glazed over, and it wasn't just from the weed he'd smoked.

Dimitri reached down and held a plastic bag before the boy, a bag of grass I guessed. "Do you want this?"

"Yes," he breathed deeply.

"Then you want me to continue?"

"Oh yes."

"All the way?" he asked, running a fingernail along the rim of the boy's glans, causing it to jerk and another bubble of precum to appear.

"God yes."

"I can do whatever I want?" He stroked the rim of his glans again and more precum oozed out of his swollen cock. "Whatever."

Dimitri flicked up the precum and held it before the boy. As he opened his mouth, Dimitri slipped his finger in and dabbed his tongue with the droplet. "Swear," he said, slipping his other hand about the boy's balls and gently rolling them in their sack.

"I swear. Whatever."

Dimitri slipped his fingers about the boy's swollen cock and began to pump his fist. The boy squirmed and a minute later he was spurting, spraying his chest and stomach and open shirt with his cum. He came hard and fast and he had a lot to squirt. Dimitri flicked up a glob of the boy's cum and marked the cross on his forehead. "You're mine," he said, his voice flat and his eyes piercing the boy's.

He yanked off the boy's pants and underwear and pushing down his own, he stood there on the patio and presented his cock to the boy. The boy hesitated and then leaning forward, he opened his lips and took Dimitri's cock in his mouth. His dick was huge, at least twenty centimetres. The boy sucked for several minutes, his eyes glazed from the weed and from his orgasm. Dimitri pulled his cock out and had the boy turn around and kneel on the swing with his back to him.

"Oh no. Not that! I never-," he said as Dimitri placed the tip of his cock against his asshole.

"Whatever I want," Dimitri said flatly as he lunged forward.

Brad cried out as Dimitri's spit-slick cock plunged up his rectum. "Oh fuck no!"

"I promised you a pleasure no girl can ever give you," Dimitri whispered in his ear as he began fucking. He had.

I crouched there and watched and listened. Dimitri's breathing grew heavier and more laboured, and so did Brad's. The patio swing creaked as the two of them rocked it to and fro. It matched their breathing. I found I had an erection. Dimitri was grunting and snorting now, and Brad was also. Dimitri reached around and began jerking Brad off as he thrust his stiff cock in and out of his tight, virgin ass. I could not believe it. I was watching my brother fucking and jerking off this fifteen-year-old kid, two guys, their cocks stiff, the one with his cum spattered over his chest and soaking into his open shirt, my own cock stiff and throbbing, the tip wet with precum. I was actually watching a couple engaging in sex, something I had fantasized doing, but these were two guys! And then Dimitri was gasping and grunting and ramming his cock in and out of Brad as he filled the boy's rectum with his cum and Brad began spurting for the second time, his cum spurting out of his cock and flying in the air, the first shot flying over the back of the patio swing, the rest spattering the slats of the back. The swing finally stopped swinging and all that could be heard was their laboured breathing.

"Let's go to my room," Dimitri whispered. "You can lick the shit from my cock and we can sixty-nine." I slipped out of the kitchen and down the stairs before they reached the backdoor. I heard them moving about above my bedroom and talking but I could not make out the words. I did not climb up on the bed to listen at the heating vent. I thought about what I had seen and heard and about many other things, sexual and otherwise. I did not fall asleep until long after the house had fallen silent.

When I woke up in the morning, my pajamas were wet and sticky. I don't remember the dream. When we got ready for church, Brad had already left. I could not look Dimitri in the eye for I knew if I did he would know I had overheard him the previous night. I had to wonder if he had known. He knew what time I usually returned on my dates with Elaina, and that I usually stopped by the kitchen for a snack before bed. Justin joined us at church, and returned with us for lunch, after which he and Dimitri retired to his bedroom for his tutoring lesson. As usual, they left the door wide open. I went for a long walk, afraid what I might hear if I went to my bedroom, even more afraid that I would climb up onto my bed and eavesdrop. As I walked I could not help picturing Dimitri and Brad the previous night. I could hear the patio swing creaking, their heavy breathing, the noises they made when they climaxed. I had another erection.

I saw Brad in the lockers later the following week. He had a plastic bag of grass and was in his glory as he shared his stash with a couple of his buddies. I tried to turn but he spotted me and we caught each other out of the corner of our eyes. He looked guilty as sin and turned bright red as he quickly turned away. I don't know what the expression was on my face but he knew I knew.

I dreaded what was going to happen the following Saturday, and I suspect so did Anna and my parents. Dimitri announced he had invited two boys over for supper and a sleep over. Shortly before six two boys showed up, whom he introduced as Derek and Liam, and who during supper we learned were fourteen, in grade eight, and from the public school. Derek was African-American with chocolate brown skin; Liam was Irish-American, white with freckles and deep red hair. How they knew Dimitri I have no idea and none of us asked. After supper they went in the back yard to toss a football around, something Dimitri and I used to do before he had been kidnapped, and something I knew Alex and Dimitri used to do. I went out with Elaina as had become our habit and we took in a show, but my mind was not on it, and afterward I took her straight home and headed home myself, arriving by nine-thirty, an hour and a half before my curfew.

Unable to resist the temptation, I slipped around to the back of the house and crept up to Dimitri's bedroom. It was June and hot and he had the window open, and the curtains partially open to let in the night air. Normally the room was in darkness but this night a light was burning. Cautiously holding onto the drain spout for support, I climbed up on the rain barrel and crouching there in the shadows and peering in the window, I found the two boys sitting on the edge of Dimitri's bed and staring at Dimitri's computer and apparently talking to someone. There was a bottle of wine on the desk and from the slurred voices and animated actions of the boys, they had consumed most of the bottle. Several porn magazines and videos were open on the bed and the desk. Dimitri was standing in the corner in the dark and out of sight. The two boys were chatting to two girls on some teen chat line and by the time of my arrival were feeling the effects of the wine, and the intimate conversation with the two girls, who were also clearly feeling very good. One girl by the name of Kathy spoke with an accent, French perhaps, and did most of the talking. The other girl, Rhonda, giggled a lot and sounded drunk. After much coaxing and teasing, they turned on their webcam, revealing two girls in their mid teens who were not that bad looking, and they began to remove their blouses.

As they began to unsnap their bras, they turned so their backs were to the boys, and then allowing their bras to drop, they slowly turned around. They were well developed considering their age. The boys made no attempt to contain their excitement. When they were done, the girls turned off the webcam and told the boys they expected something in return. The boys readily agreed and offered to remove their shirts. Of course none of them expected that as a fair exchange and it did not take that much convincing for the boys to stand and drop their trousers and their underwear. The girls turned their webcam back on and they sat there and giggled and blushed and pretended to look away, but to the boys' delight could not resist stealing glances. The boys of course urged the girls to reciprocate, which of course they refused with much giggling and whispering to each other. The boys were desperate and tried every persuasion they could think of for the girls to drop their panties, the two parties aiming their webcams at the ceiling as they bartered.

Finally Kathy, much to my shock, asked the boys if they could squirt. Now I know some girls can be as vulgar as boys, especially when talking among themselves. I have, after all, three sisters, and though all of them are decent and proper and nowhere near the sluts I know some girls are, they are not saints and as teenagers were just as curious about sex and boys as boys are about girls. Confirming they could and proud of the fact, the two boys agreed to masturbate for the girls if the girls revealed their privates. So the boys, drunk and sporting erections, refocused the webcam and sat there side by side on the bed and stroked themselves. Thinking with their balls, they went all the way instead of pausing until the girls exposed themselves. Considering their condition, they were soon squirting their stuff into a wadded Kleenex.

I of course expected the girls to end the chat session, having gotten what they wanted, but instead Kathy asked the boys if they were good for more than once, and when the boys bragged they could come all night, she offered for her and Rhonda to join them and show them their pussies in person, and perhaps do more. The boys were ecstatic and readily gave them our address. I shook my head. How could anyone be so gullible even if they were drunk, horny, and fourteen? The girls would shut off their webcam and the boys would never see them again, never mind their pussies. The two boys debated if they should stay naked or dress before the girls arrived, and asked Dimitri his advice which would turn the girls on more, finally deciding to put on their underwear and jeans but not their shirts. As they fussed and groomed before the dresser mirror, they worried how they were going to "do it" with the two of them and Dimitri all in the one room when the time came and if there was somewhere else where they could pair off, and they worried what Dimitri's parents were going to do when the girls arrived at the door.

To my surprise, Dimitri advised he would step outside and slip the girls in through the back door when they arrived. Surely he could not believe the girls were actually going to show. Slipping off the rain barrel and hunkering down behind it, I was prepared to disappear into the shadows the instant Dimitri showed up in the back yard, which is what I had expected, but instead he headed to the front street. I could hear through the open window the boys discussing their disbelief in their good fortune, their praise of Dimitri for providing them all in one night the hottest porn they'd ever seen, free booze, worry-free access to a chat room, and soon a place where they could lose their virtue. Convinced it was about to happen, the two boys admitted it, and confessed their apprehension. To my surprise, I heard a car pull up in front of the house, a door open, and someone walk up the side walk and enter the back door. That was impossibly fast. I knew how lucky I had been and that I should head into the house myself and down to my room, but curiosity got the best of me and I quickly slipped back to my position on the rain barrel, just in time to see Dimitri reenter his bedroom. Behind him was a black teen, the darkest I have ever seen, with a faux Mohawk.

The boys looked up and then glanced at each other in surprise and with a totally different reason for apprehension. Dimitri introduced the black teen as Kathy, who with a perfect imitation of her accent and giggle, told them delighted he had been with their performance that evening and how much he was looking forward to having some fun with them. Dimitri punched in something on his laptop which was still sitting where they had left it and refocused the webcam. I could see on the screen the face of a man in his forties with thinning, unkept hair and several days of stubble. He giggled drunkenly and introduced himself as Rhonda. He reached out and did something on the computer and the image on the screen switched to the two girls unsnapping their bras with their backs to the screen. They slowly turned around and the image froze on the screen and then switched back to the man in his forties.

"Oh the two girls you saw are very real teenage girls," he said, "but you were actually watching a recording we made of them last week while they thought they were talking to two teenage boys." He made another adjustment on his computer and his image was replaced with that of the two boys, their faces flushed with arousal and the liquor they had consumed, staring intently out of the computer screen as they masturbated. Their faces blanched as they watched and listened to themselves. The image switched back to the man. "Just like we'll now use the recording we made of you two boys tonight to make other young girls think they're talking to and watching two horny teenage boys and convince them to perform on their own webcam."

"You really put on a great show for us," Dimitri observed. He stared at the boys with that detached, penetrating look. "But now it is time for part two. You wanted to see some pussy tonight, and you're going to. Kwame and Wayne here have been pretending to be Kathy and Rhonda and have been chatting up two real girls on line and telling them that they have two kid brothers who will jerk each other off if they will show them their pussies. You got everything set up at your end Wayne?" asked Dimitri.

"You bet. Got two live high school girls here eager and hot to show their pussies for a little sex show from the kid brothers."

"Okay, you boys ready to see some real pussy and put on a show for a couple high school girls?"

Derek and Liam looked at each other. They were scared shitless. "I don't mess with other guys," Derek responded hesitantly, his voice a squeak.

"Nor me," said Liam. "I'm no fag."

"You just jacked off together."

"We didn't touch each other."

Kwame had been working Dimitri's laptop and suddenly two girls came on the screen. They looked sixteen, maybe seventeen. One was on the plump side. The other had a big nose. They were sitting on a bed naked except for their panties. "What's taking so long?" asked the fat one.

"Our kid brothers have gotten cold feet," said Kwame in his Kathy voice and their accent.

"This is a scam. You don't have two kid brothers at all, do you?" asked the fat one. "What are you trying to pull? You're not talking to two amateurs here." If only the girls knew. Kwame turned on the webcam and Derek and Liam glanced at each other and back at the screen. The two girls grabbed their blouses and held them in front of them, a little too late for modesty.

"This is my brother Derek. Say hello, Derek," said Kwame in his high voice. Derek looked like he was about to shit himself, or run. He looked everywhere but at the screen. "You'll have to excuse him and his boyfriend Liam. They've never seen a naked girl before, except in magazines." Kwame held up one of the magazines the boys had been looking at. "In fact they just finished jacking one off looking at these porn mags and thinking of the glimpses they've had of their classmates' boobs," continued Kwame, holding up the wadded tissue one of the boys had squirted into.

"Really?" asked Fat Girl.

"Then they can't do it for us?" asked Big Nose. She sounded disappointed.

"That's not a problem. What did you tell us tonight Liam?" Kwame asked. Liam had no idea what he had said. "You know, about what you could do all night."

Liam's mouth moved but no sound came out. Dimitri whipped off his belt and stepped forward, out of sight of the webcam of course.

"Th- th- th- that we can come all night."

Fat Girl looked at her companion and then dropped her blouse. Big Nose followed suit. "Well, as you can see we're not in junior high. And have a lot more to offer," she added, bouncing her generous boobs.

"So you know what your sisters said you'd do."

Derek glanced at Liam. "Yeah," he said hesitantly.

"So is it a deal?"

Derek looked at Liam, trying desperately to make the best of a bad situation. "We'll, uh, you know, uh, do ourselves, if you show us your, uh, show us, uh, yours."

The girls glanced at each other and smiled at the boy's awkwardness and embarrassment.

"The deal was if you want to see ours, you gotta do each other," said Fat Girl

"All the way," added Big Nose, "on cam."

It was not what he had hoped for this night, but Derek knew it was the best they were going to get, and it could get a lot worse, a way lot worse. Liam was not so perceptive, and not keen at all about touching another guy. Keeping out of view, Dimitri stepped forward and shut off the mic. "What's wrong? You wanted to see a pair of pussies tonight. You can see this time you're talking to real girls, not watching some tape. You're talking to them real time."

"What's happening? You lost your sound. Kathy, you there? Rhonda?"

"Tell them your sisters have left and you'll go through with it, but they have to take their panties off first. Or if you'd rather, we shut off the computer and you two can jerk each other off in front of us and Wayne," Dimitri turned the mic back on.

"This is getting boring," said Big Nose. "Lets chat with someone else, not two dumb little kids."

"No!" Derek blurted. Better doing each other in front of two girls than in front of the black and balding guy and not seeing any pussy at all. "We, uh, turned the mic off while… uh… our sisters left," he said. "We'll do it, but you gotta take your panties off first."

The girls glanced at each other. They'd wasted too much time already, but seeing two guys doing it would be hot, and they had a better chance with two junior high squirts than guys their age. Besides, with guys their age they might run into someone they knew. Fat Girl whispered something to Big Nose and Big Nose whispered something back. They dropped their blouses. The boys swallowed. This time they were looking at real tits, real time. "We see yours first, and you take turns moving in close, then we take off our panties but we keep our hands in front until you start doing each other."

Derek and Liam glanced at each other. These were high school girls, and for real. Seeing their tits was hot, and seeing their pussies would be hotter. Touching each other, well, that was gross, but it was going to be worse if the girls signed off. The two boys removed their trousers and underwear once more, this time hesitantly and reluctantly. Fat Girl reminded them they expected closeups. Derek shuffled forward, and then Liam. Showing their stuff to two senior high girls was hot. Perhaps if they continued they might get the girls to do more. They could always hope. The two girls turned away and removed their panties and then turned back to the screen, their hands in front of them as they had said. The boys glanced at each other. They had done it together, but doing each other, that was different, very different. They were not that type. They glanced at Dimitri. He stared at them, cold, blank. The two boys reached for each other. He didn't have to say anything.

I could see their shame and embarrassment in their eyes. Liam looked like he was going to be sick. To the two girls it probably looked like two guys reluctant and embarrassed doing what they probably did in secret with each other before two girls. You know guys, always horny and vulgar. It was hot seeing two guys doing each other even if they were junior high squirts. Derek glanced down at his dick as Liam stroked it, his pale hands contrasting with his chocolate brown skin. He glanced over at Liam's dick, his white skin contrasting with his dark fingers. His dick felt weird in his fingers, and his dick felt even weirder being stroked by Liam. It was the same pleasure though, the same burning around the rim, the same throbbing. Liam was hard, and so was he. Slowly Derek looked up at the screen.

The two girls were staring intently at the two boys, as if hypnotized by their two cocks like they were two snakes. Their faces were flushed and glistening. They were getting turned on watching the two boys. For Derek and Liam that made doing each other more tolerable. Fat Girl and Big Nose glanced at each other and slowly moved their hands away. Derek stared at what was the first real pussy he had ever seen and Liam dared look up also. The two boys fixed their stares at the two hairy slits as they stroked each other, memorizing every curve and fold, and they felt a rush of lust up their swollen cocks. They were fourteen. They stroked each other and squirmed with the pleasure pulsating between their legs, their cocks being stroked by someone else's hand for the first time as they stared at the two girls' pussies.

"Move in closer," Fat Girl said, her voice husky.

"You first," replied Derek.

The girls did, and then the boys.

"How long does it take for a guy to… you know… to squirt?" Fat Girl asked.

"Not long," replied Derek. "Three minutes tops. It'll be any time now," he said, staring at the fat lips. What would it be like sticking his dick in there?

Liam reached for the box of Kleenex and Derek took his eyes away from the computer screen. From Liam's breathing and the look on his face, it was clear to any boy he was about to cum. His stiff cock was throbbing in Derek's hand. A second later he did, shooting his stuff in the bunched up Kleenex. Some of it missed and squirted over Liam's fingers. And then Derek was squirting, shooting out his cum in Liam's hand. The two of them throbbed off in each other's hands, their peeholes and knobs burning with pleasure, spurt after spurt. And then their dicks were oozing and they milked each other. Liam's cum oozed out over Derek's fingers, hot and slimy. Liam felt Derek's slime ooze between his fingers. The two of them were breathing hard.

"That was hot guys," Fat Girl said. Big Nose agreed. The boys had momentarily forgotten about them. Now they remembered. They had jacked each other off in front of two girls. Two senior high girls. "Maybe we can chat again sometime."

"Yeah. That would be great." Derek was surprised how husky his voice was.

"Kay. See ya around."

"Hey, wait! How about a time? How ab-." The screen went blank.

"Great show," said Dimitri. "You two are natural actors. You got those two bitches so hot their cunts were dripping."

"Oh yeah," Derek said. "You could see how wet they got."

"They probably had to turn off the computer before they agreed to meet and give you a piece of tail they were so hot."

"Bet they did," Liam bragged. This had not been so bad, not so bad at all.

"Well, I don't know about the girls, but you certainly got me aching to get off a load," Kwame said, running his hand along his thigh. You could see the bulge running down his leg.

"You and me both," said Dimitri, pulling down his fly. Kwame did likewise and the two of them unbuttoned their jeans and pushed them and their underwear down. Both were stiff, and both were huge, huger than the two fourteen-year-old boys had ever imagined a dick could get. They stepped up to the two boys.

"Hey, we just did each other to get a look at the girls' cunts, and to get them hot," said Derek, adding the latter for good measure, his face going pale. The eyes of both boys widened and they tensed and drew back as Kwame and Dimitri looked down at them. "That was the only reason I did it. It was the first time I ever touched another guy's dick."

"Me too," stated Liam weakly.

"Hey, we don't want you to jerk us off," said Dimitri. The boys' eyes flickered with relief although it was evident they were doubtful. "I want you to wrap those sweet rosy lips about my cock and suck me off," Dimitri said, reaching out and cupping Liam behind the back of the head.

"And I want you to do the same with my whanger," said Kwame as he leered down at Derek.

"Unless you would like us to broadcast that recording Wayne just made of you chatting up those two homely bitches and jerking each other off. Maybe send it special to some of your classmates?" Derek and Liam glanced at each other. "Bet your buddies would be impressed how you got those bitches hot jerking each other off."

"Bet your female classmates will be lining up to show you their cunts in exchange for a live fag jerk show."

"Or we'll keep our mouths shut, if you shut yours and start sucking."

The two boys did. They had no choice. Looking like he was going to throw up, Derek hesitantly and reluctantly slipped his lips about the bulb of the black teen's huge cock and began to suck, his chocolate brown lips wrapped about the older teen's thick black cock like he was sucking on a thick stick of licorice. Liam looked like he was about to cry as he slipped his lips over the bulb of Dimitri's huge cock, being able to take no more than his bulb in his mouth. As I crouched there outside the window and watched I felt sorry for the two boys. What a roller coaster ride, thinking they were chatting with two girls and were actually going to see their pussies in the flesh and maybe get it on and then discovering that they had been scammed and had actually jacked off in front of three men, then actually chatting with two girls and seeing their first pussy only to end up sucking the cocks of two men.

It had to be humiliating, and disgusting. The worst insult one guy could give another was to tell him to suck your cock. I wondered what it was like, how it actually tasted, what it felt like to be doing something every guy holds in revulsion and derision. I also had to wonder what it felt like having your cock sucked. Kwame and Dimitri were clearly enjoying it. They were breathing heavily and had their heads thrown back and were groaning and gasping like it was really great. And then they were squirting and grasping the boys' heads so they couldn't pull off their cocks and had to drink their cum. Gooseflesh formed on my arms as the two boys gulped down the two men's slim until the two men were done. As they stepped back, their cocks still stiff and shiny with spittle and cum and the two boys sat there on the bed in a daze, I slipped off the rain barrel and headed down to my room.

Changing into my pajamas and crawling into bed, I could not fall asleep as I thought about what had happened to the two boys, and what my brother and his friends had done to them. This was no porno flick; this was my brother. Why was he doing this? I heard voices above me. Dimitri's cold, dispassionate voice penetrated through the floorboards like his dead-eyed gaze penetrated your mind. Throwing back the covers, I stood on the bed and listened at the heating vent. They were keeping their voices low but I could hear every word. Dimitri and Kwame were not yet done. The two boys begged and pleaded and promised but to no avail and the two men, in their words, took the boys' prunes, Dimitri taking Derek's virginity and Kwame sinking his long black cock up Liam's ass. The boys were apparently lying side by side on their backs, their legs spread and their asses raised on pillows. Derek told them to jack each other off as they were being fucked. I lay back down, the only noise being the creaking of the springs on Dimitri's bed. And then there was silence.

When I got up the next morning the two boys and Dimitri's friend were gone. We headed to church where we were met by the family and by Justin. I do not remember the sermon, which was not unusual. All I could think about was what I had seen through Dimitri's window and heard downstairs, vulgar memories to have in church. I asked forgiveness for my wicked thoughts, and I asked forgiveness for the two boys. What were they thinking that morning? Were they still able to taste cock and slime? Could they still feel their rectums being stuffed with those long, thick cocks? I know I would. Why had Dimitri done it? I asked God. Whatever had happened to him these past eight years had to have been terrible beyond my imagination for him to have turned out how he had, and to be doing what he was doing. I asked God to forgive him, and to help him. When we returned home for the traditional Sunday family after-church dinner and Justin then headed to Dimitri's room to tutor him, I called up Elaina. When I returned, Justin was gone too.

The following Saturday still another pair showed up at the door for a sleep over, a guy my age, and his brother half his age. Again I went out with Elaina, determined I would stay out until my curfew, but I returned home before, unable to enjoy myself as I could not stop wondering about Dimitri's latest guests. Elaina had to know something was on my mind but she did not ask fortunately for I certainly would not have been able to tell her. I swore I would go straight to my bedroom and not spy on him, but I was no more able to do that than I had been able to stay out until my curfew. So I slipped around to the back of the house. As usual the window to Dimitri's bedroom was open and the curtains parted. Hoisting myself up and crouching down on the top of the rain barrel, I peered into the window. The room was lit by candles and the three of them were sitting in a circle on Dimitri's bed. It was a little after ten and the boy looked sleepy.

From what I was able to hear and to piece together from their conversation, Dimitri had connected the older brother, who had nothing special going for him in terms of looks or personality, with a teenage girl who had put out for him, and in return, the guy had brought Dimitri his kid brother to spend the night with! That told me a lot about what a looser the guy was. I was still a virgin myself. Most guys my age were and it was not considered any big deal. I certainly wouldn't hook up my kid brother with a twenty-three-year-old pedo for a chance to make out and I didn't know anybody that desperate. Learning that, I honestly don't know who sickened me more, the older brother or my brother.

The kid was clearly uncomfortable and didn't have a clue what was going on other than his older brother had made a promise to this stranger and needed his help, and it was clear from what he said and how he looked at his brother the kid trusted and loved his older brother and was willing to do whatever he was being expected to do. Dimitri told him how attractive he was, and how there were a lot of men who would do anything they could to spend the night with him, and he assured the boy that he would not harm him and that he would find what they were going to do fun.

The kid was doubtful, and his brother sat there looking guilty as hell as Dimitri unbuttoned the kid's shirt and removed it. He caressed the boy and kissed him, on the cheeks and then on the mouth, and then his chest and his teats, which he caressed until they were hard and burning with irritation. He continued stripping the boy, pulling down his fly and removing his jeans and then pulling down his briefs, the boy all the while glancing at his brother for reassurance and his brother giving him a weak smile and a nod of support. Dimitri fondled the boy's dick and balls, which really made the kid uncomfortable, and his brother even more so, but the dick just sat there and let my brother do whatever he wanted. Dimitri stripped and let the boy examine and fondle his dick, and then taking out a tube of something out of the drawer of his night stand, he had the boy stand and turn with his back to him and he lubed up the boy's anus and slipped his middle finger up his rectum and finger fucked him. As perverted as he was, Dimitri kept checking with the boy that he was all right.

Lubing up his own cock, which was erect by then, he had the boy sit on the edge of his bed and lay back and he knelt on several cushions on the floor between his outspread legs. Perched there on the rain barrel in the dark, I watched as he sank his long, thick cock up the boy's ass there in front of the kid's brother and took his virginity. I do not know why, but I stayed there on my perch and watched them and I remained there watching when they were done. Dimitri talked a lot, ranting and rambling actually, about young boys and how they were attractive, and how the world was messed up having laws against them having sex and how he would change the laws if he ran the country. He then told the older brother to strip and for the first time that evening he objected, saying that Dimitri hadn't said anything about involving him. Dimitri's reply was that he had been involved since the beginning, in that cold, demanding voice that didn't brook any argument, and the brother caved in. He sat there embarrassed as hell as Dimitri had the kid examine him and fondle him and as Dimitri had him play with his kid brother's stuff until they were both erect. The kid by that time was scared out of his mind and had realized his brother was in no position to protect him.

He then had the kid lube up his brother and then get on his elbows and knees on his bed and as his older brother knelt behind him and sank his cock up the kid's ass, Dimitri sat in front of him and had the boy suck him. I was sorry for both brothers as I sat there and watched and I had to wonder what sort of warped mind my brother had to force the two brothers to do his bidding, and just what sort of power my brother possessed. He was enjoying himself, immensely, and I had to wonder which he enjoyed the most, the sex, or his power over the other two. Both were contrary to everything my family believed in and practised, and totally foreign to me. For myself I was neither turned off nor turned on by what I was witnessing, and that was frightening. When the two of them at last came, Dimitri filling the boy's mouth and stomach with his slime as the kid's brother filled his rectum, my arms and legs turned to gooseflesh and a quiver passed through my loins. As they were wiping off their dripping cocks, Dimitri asked the kid's brother with that deadpan expression which had been better, fucking the B and losing his virginity, or fucking his kid brother, and I got the impression Dimitri was more interested in asking the question than the answer.

"I missed many things while I was away," Dimitri observed as we sat down for our family luncheon after church. It was rare for him to speak at all during our family gatherings, and even rarer to speak of the years he had been away. "One is your moussaka, Momma. None can make it as you can. And another is your souvlakia, Poppa." My brothers and sisters all praised our traditional Sunday meal, and my parents all protested but were inwardly pleased, and I think, even more pleased by Dimitri's contribution to the conversation. "And having sleep overs," he continued, talking to Justin who as usual had joined us at services and at home afterward and was sitting beside Dimitri. "I missed out having sleep overs as a teenager, and I'm really enjoying having people sleep over now."

I stared down at my plate. I wondered what everyone would think if they knew the truth about what happened during those sleep overs now, what they would say if they knew that he gave guys money or provided them porn, booze, drugs, and even girls and then blackmailed them and made them engage in sex with him or with each other or with him and his friend. The events of the previous night flashed through my mind and I concentrated even more on my plate.

"You remember your sleep overs?" he asked Alex and his sisters, and they admitted they had. "I remember you used to have sleep overs," he said, looking at me. "You haven't had any since I've returned."

"Ah, no, I haven't," I replied, addressing my moussaka. I could not look him in the eye. He would know I knew what he did those nights. The truth was that my friends were uncomfortable coming over since Dimitri had returned, or their parents were uncomfortable about them coming over.

"You should invite someone over next weekend."

"Ah, yeah, maybe." I could just imagine what he had in mind, particularly what he and the two brothers had just done the night before. No way was that going to happen.

"You boys have sleep overs with your buddies?" he asked Domi and Marcus, thankfully turning his attention to them. As usual the two boys had flocked around him, and they of course said they did, with their buddies, and with each other, sometimes with their grandparents which was particularly special.

"You haven't done that since I've been home," Dimitri observed, looking at his parents and then at the boys' parents innocently. "You should come over here and have a sleep over with Nonna and Nanna, the two of you and Lucas too," he said. Domi and Marcus immediately thought that a great idea and turned to their parents expectantly. Lucas was noncommittal.

"I don't think Nonna and Nanna are up to keeping up with a bunch of boisterous boys anymore," Maria quickly replied.

"Nonsense," said my mother, caught up with the idea and the fond memories. "We love to have the boys over. Reading them stories and tucking them in at night, and having muffins and peach jam and sausages in the morning. It has been a long time since we've done that." She looked around happily and seeing the looks on everyone's faces she remembered why that had stopped.

There was dead silence. Domi and Marcus, not understanding the silence, renewed their request with memories with their grandparents.

"Please?" asked Domi with those big puppy eyes of his.

"Yes, please?" chimed in Marcus, looking at his parents, and then at his grandparents.

"We'd love to have the children," said my mother. "We're family." She didn't mention Dimitri, but everyone knew what she meant.

"Yes, it has been too long," agreed my father, supporting my mother as he always did. He knew how much she had missed the grandchildren, and so had he. "The two of them at the same time would be fine. They can keep each other entertained and out of mischief and would be easier for us."

We knew what my father was saying but I could read my siblings' thoughts. Rather than being less likely to have an encounter with Dimitri being together, they'd more likely get each other into mischief than keep each other out and be more likely to sneak off with Dimitri. "We'll see," said Sophia. She had a soft spot for our parents, both of them, and for children with puppy eyes.

Chapter 8
Prom Night

Story told by Cory. After his rape in the warehouse, Cory is told to stop bullying Justin and to start doing little things for him, like putting away his food tray for him at noon. He is forced to dress in drag for the junior high prom and spend the evening in the boys' washroom sucking horny boys through a freshly punched glory hole. The evening ends with Dimitri taking Cory and Justin to a sleazy hotel and filming them kissing and making out, but his ordeal has really only begun.

Characters: Dimitri (23yo), Cory (15yo) and Justin (14yo) and anonymous junior high boys. – Codes: tt, noncons.

Thirty-six days passed by since my abduction on my way to the skateboard park and my afternoon of hell in the Ogden warehouse, and not one of those thirty-six days went by without me remembering that afternoon, remembering sucking that wimp Justin Bromley, remembering the taste of his filthy cock, and remembering him shooting his slimy cum down my throat. Not a day went by that I didn't remember the feel of Dimitri Savalos' pecker throbbing up my ass, the shame of the pervert squirting his semen up my rectum, or the humiliation of being forced to jerk myself off in front of the two of them. How could anyone forget memories like that? They came any time of day or night and without warning or cause, while I was at the breakfast table eating my cereal before school, in the middle of mathematics class just when Whiting would call on me to solve an equation he had written on the board, while sitting on the bench waiting to be called into a basketball game, while chatting up a girl, as I tried to drop off to sleep, even in the middle of the night. I'd just suddenly wake up and one of the memories would pop into my head and I'd twist and turn for hours trying to fall back asleep. Other times I'd dream about that afternoon in the warehouse and wake up with a bone on, or worse, wet and sticky. I haven't had a sound sleep since that afternoon.

Thirty-six days. And the ordeal had not ended there. That son of a bitch Savalos had recorded the entire incident on his cell, from the moment I had entered the warehouse to the moment I had left. When he drove me home that afternoon, he said if I didn't do what he was going to tell me to do, he'd post what I had done on the Internet, and send copies to my classmates. I knew a few girls who'd had intimate videos or photos of themselves shared. He slipped his hand down the front of my pants right there in broad daylight in my driveway and told me there were lots of guys who would love to get in my pants. I had no doubt he would do what he said. He'd slice my throat right there in my driveway and wouldn't think twice about it. I've seen psychos like him on crime shows on television, shows like Criminal Minds. The difference was that this was happening in real life, and he scared the crap out of me. When he looked at you, it was like he wasn't looking at you at all, and when he spoke the hair on the back of your neck stood on end.

He had it all planned out. How he knew so much about me I have no idea, but he had put a lot of thought into his plan before that day. There was to be no more pushing that wimp Justin Bromley around. No hassling him, no bullying him, no more taking his homework. No teasing him, no making him look like a jerk, nothing. He didn't give a damn what I did with anyone else, just Justin Bromley. I had to be nice to him. I had to watch for him and buy him dessert at the school cafeteria and carry his food tray to the table for him, and carry his empty tray back. I had to pack his backpack home at the end of the day. The nerd packed very goddamn book he owned in that backpack.

Everyone noticed of course. They could not help it, and they all wanted to know what was going on. Most of the guys figured I was setting Bromley up, planning something super embarrassing and humiliating for the nerd, and they laughed and joked about it and couldn't wait for it to happen. When nothing did, the rumours began, rumours that the school authorities had been called in, that the nerd's father had threatened to hire a lawyer, that Bromley had something on me. If they only knew. After thirty-six days Bromley was riding high. He didn't push it, but he didn't avoid situations either. Like he didn't purposefully arrange to be in the cafeteria the same time as I was, but unlike before the event in the warehouse he made no effort to avoid me either. Of course I didn't avoid him either. That would be obvious, and he and Dimitri Savalos were not running my life. Besides, I don't know how but Savalos would know I was avoiding Bromley. At the same time, I didn't go out of my way to confront Bromley either. I was no fool.

Four days ago, Monday after school, Savalos pulled up to the curb in his red Camaro on my way to the skateboard park. Memories of that day in Ogden leaped to my mind and I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Not again. I'm not religious but I found myself praying. I had done every damn thing the perv had demanded of me! Now what did the bugger want?

When he told me, I just sat there in the front seat of his Camaro and stared at him. He was sick. There was no fucking way I was going to do what he wanted! No fucking way in hell! I couldn't do it. I wouldn't do it. I didn't care what he did with the fucking tapes he had made of me last month. The bugger just sat there and stared at me with that unblinking, penetrating look, saying nothing. I imagined him picturing torturing me in a hundred different ways to make me agree to what he expected me to do. Hanging me by my feet, naked, in the gym, until the blood rushed to my head and I died. Tying me behind his Camaro and dragging me down the street. Taking me down to the hooker stroll on Ninth and selling my ass to horny closet faggot husbands and acne-scarred losers. Sitting me naked on a nest of red ants. Sticking slivers of wood up my fingernails and toenails and lighting them on fire. A sick mind like his had to be thinking of even worse things.

"Your mum and dad have quite a collection of family videos," he observed. "Bet they'd be shocked to see the latest you stared in."

That was Monday, four days ago. My stomach was in a knot ever since. For the past four days I haven't been able to eat. I haven't been able to sleep. For the past four days I've walked around like a zombie, unable to think, unable to concentrate, except for one thing. I've considered pretending I'm sick. I've considered eating something to make myself sick, even to put me in the hospital. Considering the past four days, being admitted to a hospital would not be difficult. I've considered just ignoring his latest demand and carrying on as if our meeting had never happened-for a couple seconds before rejecting it as the most impossible alternative. He would send my parents the tape. Maybe even show up at the door with it in hand and sit down with them as they watched it. I've had to consider doing what he said. I thought up a dozen rationales for doing it, rationales I could use to explain it to my parents, to my kid brother, to my friends. None were as good as the one he had provided me. He was very good at this. I considered killing him. I considered hiring someone to kill him. I considered killing myself.

Friday arrived. So did the box he had promised. The box with my prom dress and a gift card addressed to 'Corina'. I showered and shampooed. I don't have anything to shave yet. I checked my pits and smelled them and put on underarm deodorant even though I didn't need it. I have no hair there yet either. I thought about what I had to do and I threw up. I brushed my teeth and rinsed my mouth and gargled with half a bottle of mouthwash. I wanted to die. I wondered where a guy got hold of a straight razor. My heart a lead weight in my chest, I went to my bedroom and got dressed. I don't know how he did it, but everything fit perfectly, everything, the padded lift-up flesh-coloured bra, the frilly lace panties with pansies, the low-cut mid-thigh dress, the red shoes. I stared at the makeup kit that had come with the clothes. I'd done everything else. Surely he would be satisfied with that. I knew he wouldn't. I applied the cherry red lipstick, the rouge, the eyeliner, the perfume, Midnight Passion. I headed downstairs.

My parents sat there gaping in shock, their jaws wide open. After he got over the shock, my dad was livid. He figured this was some prank against the school authorities, against all adults. He turned as red as my new dress and I thought for sure was going to have a heart attack. When he finally paused to catch his breath, I gave them the explanation Savalos had told me to use, that I had made a bet and had lost and this was the payment. His anger over my teenage insolence and disrespect turned to anger over my teenage stupidity and immaturity. I knew my mother agreed with everything he said, but I was her son, and she took things more calmly than he did. She pointed out it was a bet, which he didn't need to be reminded of, and that what was done was done, and finally in the end he complemented me on my honesty about the bet, and my bravery in carrying through with the bet. That I had not expected and it made me feel all the worse. I was far from honest, and far from brave. He said it showed guts to accept the consequence of a bet, even when it was as humiliating as this, and he said he was proud of me for that. Savalos had been right.

Five-thirty Justin Bromely's father showed up right on schedule. He'd already picked up Melissa Tateson, the most popular cheerleader in Saint Joseph Academy, and the most stacked, and my date. He thought it was Justin's date and Justin had done nothing to correct him. Melissa thought he was being our chauffer because I had bullied Jason into getting his father to do it, which would have been typical of my old reputation and which explained why I had been nice to Justin this past month. I have no idea what Justin had told his father as to why he was also picking me up, nor what he was thinking when he walked up the walk and greeted me at the door, with a red wrist corsage. He was clearly uncomfortable and apprehensive, but not surprised. We got in the back, Melissa squeezed in between us. On the way to the school, I explained the bet to Melissa and Justin's father. I caught the look of bemusement on Justin's father's face in the rearview mirror and I figure he saw it as a typical junior high prank. Melissa was not amused. Nor was she impressed with my honesty nor courage. My appearance was a surprise and a shock and from the looks she gave me she clearly thought me a fool and a jerk and was embarrassed as hell. I knew the reputation I had with the girls as a jock and a man, and my looks, and that I was considered a 'catch' and that the other girls were envious of her. That was going to be shattered when we got to the school.

The cafeteria had been decorated and reserved for those in grade nine and for a few of us our dates. The three of us sat together for the prom supper, Melissa between us. I explained the bet a dozen times between the appetizer and the dessert. The teachers were not amused either nor impressed with my courage nor my honesty. Ondric, the school principal was livid over my apparent disrespect for the solemnity of the evening and immature behaviour and, I learned later, would have sent me home had not one of the chaperones talked him out of it. My friends were not impressed either. They were perplexed. They nodded and smiled politely as they listened to my explanation, which rolled off my tongue easier and easier with each telling, and later they whispered to each other that this confirmed their suspicion that Bromley had something on me, and pronounced that whatever it was, it had to be big for me to do something like this. After daydreaming about this evening for a month after making the date with Melissa, I was devastated and could barely eat. I got icy glares and the cold shoulder from Melissa throughout the whole meal and I'm sure she was even more embarrassed and more disappointed that I was. I was too busy thinking about what a disappointment the evening was to listen to the speeches after the meal. I hoped things would change once we were in the gym and the dancing started.

Most of the grads had come alone or with close friends. When the music started, I glanced at Melissa and nodded toward the middle of the gym and at first I thought she was going to decline but after a pause she followed me. Most of the others who had come as couples and those who chummed together began to dance. Justin followed us with a girl I didn't know and they began to dance beside us. I moved away from them and Melissa followed. Seconds later Justin and the girl he was dancing with danced over to be beside us again. It had to be intentional, and I suspected that Savalos had told him to do so. At times it was difficult to tell which girl he was actually dancing with, the girl he was with or with Melissa. At other times it looked like he was dancing with me, and again I suspected Savalos had put him up to it. I felt like punching the asshole out right then and there but I knew I get tossed out if I did. Normally I would have tripped him or bumped into him and sent him flying or otherwise made him look like a fool and a bumbling jerk, but I knew if I did word would get back to Dimitri Savalos. How, I had no idea, but I knew it would. When they played a slow song, I reached out to take Melissa in my arms but she glanced at me and backed off. The way I was dressed that would be too much and I understood that. We sat the song out, both of us disappointed. The girl Justin had been dancing with had joined her friends and Justin stood beside me, looking awkward and embarrassed and ignoring Melissa and me, but standing there as if he was with us. In the past, when I was my old self, he did everything he could to avoid me. He had to have been told to stick by me.

At ten to eight I excused myself and headed for the boy's can as I had been instructed. The past forty-five minutes had been awkward and in a way I was glad for the break from trying to talk to Melissa though I was apprehensive about what Savalos had in mind now. The hallway was surprisingly empty. The dance supervisors tried to keep everyone in the gym during the dances, but they couldn't watch everyone all the time and there were dozens of legitimate reasons to leave the gym, and several illegitimate. There was one supervisor in the hall, a guy I'd never seen before. He was a guy you would know if you'd seen him previously, a huge man, broad-shouldered and the weight of two men. His size alone was enough to remember him, but he was also the ugliest man I've ever seen: pot belly, cauliflower ears, a beak of a nose and double chins, an Indian. He was, I learned later, the chaperone who had convinced Ondric not to toss me out.

I had no idea what was up and with my heart speeding up I stepped into the can with no little trepidation, the only thing stopping me from chickening out being the fact we were in the school so whatever Savalos had in mind couldn't be that bad, not like the warehouse experience. To my surprise the can was empty. Usually there were one or two guys there sneaking a smoke. I went into the last stall as I had been told to do. I immediately noticed a hole had been punched in the partition between the last stall and the one beside it, a hole about six centimetres in diameter. It had to have been done that day. There was writing on the wall beside the hole. "Free blow job Prom night eight to ten." I glanced at my watch. It was almost eight. The door began to open and I quickly stepped out of the stall, not wanting anyone to think I'd come to get blown. It was the supervisor, the ugly Indian. Handing me a note and an empty plastic bottle, he spun me around and pushed me into the adjoining stall.

"Latch the door and don't come out until ten."

I unfolded the note. "Have a sucking good time at your Prom Night, Corina. Spit the jizz back out in the bottle and bring it and your repeat requests to me in the parking lot at 10:15." Repeat requests? I heard the bathroom door open. My first reaction was to get the hell out of the stall. That would mean seeing whoever came in face to face. It could be someone I knew. If they went into the last stall they'd know why I had been in the adjoining one. I could say I didn't know about the writing in the last stall, or that I was curious or whatever. Whoever came in wouldn't want a face to face encounter any more than I did if they were there because of the hole in the partition. If I left the can the ugly Indian would know though and there was no question he was there to see that I did what Savalos had instructed. Nor was there any doubt that if I didn't the consequence would be something worse, though how anything could be worse I could not imagine. I latched the door. Hopefully the guy had come to take a leak and would leave. Not many guys could know about the hole or the message. It had to have been done that day or the janitor would have patched the hole and washed off the message. Even fewer guys would dare do something. The guy came to the last stall and stepped in and latched the door. Fuck!

I sat down and drew back out of sight if he tried looking through the hole. I noticed for the first time a tarp had been tied down over the top of the stall. Nobody could look over the partition. I tucked my feet under the toilet. The guy was probably just curious. He couldn't really be planning on going through with this. I heard him pull down his fly and I could see under the partition that he had turned and was facing it. The tips of his shoes slipped up to the partition and the bastard stuck his cock in the hole. It was cut and limp. He was either well hung or partially aroused. The height of the hole and its location was such that I just had to slip to the edge of the toilet bowl. Just. I couldn't, but if I didn't Savalos would know.

Slowly slipping forward, my heart a lead weight in my chest, I inhaled deeply as I opened my mouth wide and took his dick in my mouth and clamped my lips shut behind the knob of his cock. As I began to suck, I slipped my lips up and down over his knob to speed him up and get this over with. He got hard in seconds just as I thought he would. Why the fuck was Savalos making me do this? I could hear the guy breathing on the other side of the partition. What was he thinking? What sort of guy could be such a pervert as to get blown in a can by some stranger? Was he a closet faggot or something? Suddenly without warning he began to spurt and it was only by luck that at that moment I had drawn my lips back or he would have shot down my throat. Just as he began to fill my mouth the outside door of the can opened and someone else came in. He was done squirting in seconds. Crap he was breathing loudly! More of his jizz oozed into my mouth and I guessed from his movements and sounds he was milking the last bit out. The guy who had entered the can had come down to the last stall and then turned and headed back to the washbasins. The guy in the next stall pulled his dick out of the hole. Taking a few sheets of asswipe he wiped his dick off, tossed the sheets in the toilet, tucked himself back in and pulled up his fly and opened the door to the stall. I meanwhile spit his jizz into the bottle.

"Fucking unbelievable," he pronounced as he joined the guy at the washbasins.

"That for real?" asked another voice. His voice cracked.

"You better believe it. Have fun. I'll be back for seconds."

The second guy came in and latched the door. Pulling down his fly, he struggled a bit to get his dick out. I could see through the hole why he'd struggled. He was stiff. His dick was uncut and about the same size as mine, which is thirteen centimetres. He stuck it in the hole and I wasted no time, eager to do what had to be done and get it over with. We had barely begun when the can door opened again. From the sound of it, it had to be more than one guy. They came straight to the last stall and one of them tried the door. They headed back to the sinks. They didn't go to the other stalls, nor to the urinals, which meant only one thing. Like the guy before him, the guy I was sucking came quickly, and having learned from the first guy, I made sure I hadn't gone down on him too far so I could catch his cum. I wasn't supposed to swallow his stuff, and I certainly didn't want to. Also like the first guy, he shot fast and he shot a good load. While he wiped off, I spit his stuff into the bottle. To my surprise, he stuck a slip of toilet paper through the hole. "Will. 2cooldude@hotmail.com" Discovering my dress had no pockets, I stuck the paper in my bra.

"So hey, dude! Who's the perv?" one of them asked when he joined the two at the sinks.

"No idea." The door to the can opened again. "You guys better move along. We're starting to get a line up here!" he observed with a chuckle. I was not amused.

And so it went. Each guy was the same as the one before him. By the time he got to the last stall there was no hesitancy. There was a steady stream of guys for the next two hours. They arrived singularly, in pairs, or threes. Sometimes they stood there silently, sometimes in a whispered conversation, and occasionally excitedly and loud enough for me to hear. Occasionally one of the guys coming in said the hallway supervisor said to keep the noise down or he'd have to clear everyone out and everyone fell back to dead silence. Guys are curious how they compare, and I can tell you no two guys dicks are the same. Some were short and others long, some fat and others slender, some cut some uncut, bulbs shaped like mushroom caps and other like light bulbs, white, black, yellow and brown in all shades from light to dark, they were all different but still much the same.

Their cum was all much the same, watery, sticky, slimy, and tasteless, but there were differences. Some was thicker than others. A few had a hint of sweetness, a few distinctly salty, and a few bitter and tasted like asprin. The bottle slowly began to fill. The can began to stink of cock and cum. Some of the guys noticed it and commented on it. I soon lost count of the number of guys. They were all horny and came quickly and copiously and as soon as one left another took his place. Some were done in two minutes, rarely did anyone take four.

My jaw was stiff and I had a crick in my neck. My ass was numb and my back ached. At first I was nauseated and wanted to gag each time I took a guy's dick in my mouth, and to puke each time a guy squirted in my mouth. At first I had been embarrassed and filled with shame. Now I was just numb. I felt filthy. I went through the motions mechanically, suck, bob, catch, spit. I had to have done at least forty guys! The bottle, 250 ml, was almost full. About a third slipped me a sheet of toilet paper with their name and an Email address or a phone number seeking a suck date as suggested on the wall of the last stall.

Finally the can was empty. I looked at my watch. It was a few minutes after ten! I wearily stood. My leg had gone to sleep and I couldn't straighten my neck. I cautiously stepped out of the stall. The can was empty. I glanced at myself in the mirror, bent over, my hair dishevelled, lipstick and rouge smeared, chin shiny. I looked like a whore who had turned forty tricks. I was a whore who had turned forty tricks. I didn't try to clean up. Slipping to the door, I opened it a crack, expecting someone would be in the hall waiting to see who left the can, expecting all forty guys to be there craning their necks. To my surprise the hallway was empty. My heart pumping wildly, I headed as fast as I could for the exit, expecting any moment to bump into someone. Nobody! I learned later the ugly Indian had cleared the hallway to give me a clean and anonymous getaway, not that it really mattered. My absence for the past two hours had been noticed, and everyone in the gym, male and female, had heard the rumour that the guy in the second last stall in the boys' can had red shoes. The red Camaro was parked outside. I was told to get in the back. Bromley was already there. A few minutes later the ugly Indian came out and handed something to Savalos and we took off.

We pulled up to a motel and Savalos sent Justin and me in to get a room, handing Justin some cash and me his smart phone and telling us not to worry, he'd have us home by midnight. I hung back and turned on the recorder as Justin stepped up to the counter. The clerk was young, mid twenties maybe, and looked shabby and not too bright. The look he gave us was a combination of equal parts boredom, surprise, and contempt.

"Ya want it for the night or by the hour?"

"Ah, the hour. Two hours."

"Big night, eh?" he said sarcastically. "Twenty bucks." Justin gave him a twenty. "Sign here." Justin signed. "Room 8. You two have a good time," he said as he glanced at the register, "Mr. Bromley." The nerd had signed his own name!

Savalos followed us to the room. It was small, clean but shabby, with a bed, the largest piece of furniture and obviously why people stayed there, and not to sleep, a small dresser, a desk and two wooden chairs, what you'd expect at that price. We were given our instructions and Bromley and I went back out. This time when we came in, me first and Bromley following, Savalos had his cam recorder running. We embraced and we kissed self-consciously, and Bromley led me over to the bed and we sat down facing each other. "Did you enjoy the Prom?"

"Yeah, thanks. I had a great time."

"I'm glad. It's going to get even better."

"Really?"

"Oh yes, a lot better." Bromley slid closer and unbuttoned the top of my dress.

"I don't know. I've never done this before."

"I'll be gentle, I promise. You're going to like it," he promised, running a hand up my dress.

"Are you as good in bed as you are on the dance floor?"

"Even better sweet cheeks. You'll see."

The conversation was inane but the basics went something like that. The basic premise of the movie was two teenage boys, fags, on grade nine prom night. Savalos said he'd splice in our arrival at the school, the reaction by Ondric and the teachers and our friends, the dinner, the dance, all recorded unbeknownst by anyone including us by the ugly Indian. He said by copying and splicing together different parts he'd be able to end up with several totally different movies. In the first one the plot was that this was our first time, our coming out. We looked down at the floor with embarrassment and fumbled undressing each other, and our foreplay was awkward, nervous, and hesitant. That scenario didn't require any acting on either of our parts. In the second plot we were deeply in love, defying the school authorities and taking a stand for gay rights and gay pride. We looked each other in the eyes dreamily and stripped each other with a lot of tender and loving caressing and kissing, totally gross for both of us. I ended up closing my eyes a lot and pretending in my mind that he was Melissa. In the third scenario Bromley acted the part of a closet fag dropping his fake date, Melissa, for a lusty drag queen, me, Bromley staring at my breasts and me staring at his crotch with lust and the two of us unable to keep our eyes and hands off each other. That took a lot of acting. In still another, Bromley played a straight boy dumping his plain date for a hot broad, discovering to his surprise and dismay at the last moment that the broad, me, was a hot trans and a he, not a she.

And so Bromley played the self-conscious first timer, the gentle lover, the horny teen, and I played a virgin fruit, a horny bitch queen, and a trans. We paused on cue to take still pictures in our different stages of undress and stages of foreplay. We had to repeat each scenario over and over, each time with more feeling and sincerity until Savalos figured we had it right, and then do it all over again with a different scenario until Savalos figured we had that one right. The plots were cheesy and the words didn't really matter. For the pervs who were going to be watching these movies the action that each scenario was leading up to was what they really wanted to see.

It was evident Bromley was doing this under duress just as I was, but he was enjoying the physical stuff far too much, making me wonder about him and if maybe he was queer. Myself, I cringed as the nerd fondled my privates and again I closed my eyes and pretended it was Melissa, and I gritted my teeth and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end as I fondled his. It was totally disgusting. That was where reality took over from play acting and I wanted to shrivel up and die. The perv wasn't shrivelling at all. The cunt got hard far too quickly. When we were finally stark naked and the son of a bitch finally lubed my asshole and then himself, it was evident he was doing so from experience and I had to wonder with whom, and if he and Savalos had messed around.

Like I said, all the scenarios we enacted ended up at the same point, me on my back with my hips raised on the pillows and my legs spread, and Bromley kneeling between my legs with a tube of lubricant. He squeezed a bit on the tip of his index finger and smeared it around my anus and then squeezed out a bit more and worked it into my rectum with the tip of his finger. The third dab he smeared over his knob. Like I said, the son-of-a-bitch knew what he was doing. When the tip of his stiff cock pressed against my anus my first impulse was to clamp my asshole shut, but I knew that would make Savalos angry, and all it would accomplish would be to cause me pain. So, instead, I relaxed, as much as a guy can when he is about to be penetrated, and pushed out to open up my hole to make it easier for him. I thought back to the afternoon I'd been forced to suck him, and I don't know which was worse, being forced to suck the son-of-a-bitch, or having him stick his dick up my ass. At least he was nowhere near as hung as Savalos was. It had felt like my asshole was gaping wide open for weeks afterward after Savalos had fucked me, and I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever be able to take a crap without my anus burning and leaving a streamer of blood in the bowl.

As Bromley's knob stretched open my sphincter and finally popped inside, I recalled the despair and humiliation the first time I had been penetrated. Bromley's cock was much shorter and narrower than Savalos's dick but being penetrated by him was actually worse than the time Savalos had done me. Savalos had been a stranger, a perverted bastard I had never met, and I was shocked and confused by what was happening. Bromley was no stranger. He was a nerd and a wimp I had looked down upon and pushed around for years, the type of guy who should be spreading his legs for me, not the other way around, if I was the type of guy who was into that sort of thing and which I'm not. Fags are worthless pieces of shit and what they do turns my stomach.

That was what made this more disgusting than when Savalos had done me. I knew this son-of-a-bitch, and the pervert was enjoying this. As I lay there on my back with his hard cock throbbing up my rectum, I swore I would get even with him. I would get even with him good. I had no idea what I would do, but I would get my revenge for this humiliation. As he thrust his hips to and fro and pumped his cock in and out of my asshole I closed my eyes and began imagining what I was going to do to the son-of-a-bitch. I thought hard, but I could think of nothing worse than what the perv was doing to me at that moment. Nothing could equal the humiliation and the debasement of being mounted by another guy for his pleasure, and there was no doubt from the way he was snorting and panting that he was finding pleasure in fucking me. The cunt!

Savalos paused the recorder and told me to start acting like I was enjoying this, and if I wasn't going to come soon to start playing with myself because we all knew I enjoyed that and he wanted me to come before Bromley. I thought back to the humiliation of being forced to jerk off in front of the two of them. The memory caused my dick to twitch and so I concentrated on that memory and began pumping my hips and arching my back and gasping and groaning and thinking about coming. It was the only way I was going to bring this torture to an end. I thought of Melissa and her boobs and my fantasies about fucking her and what I imagined it would feel like having my cock surrounded by her hot, juicy cunt. I thought about shooting my load and how good it felt. I concentrated on the pleasure of shooting, and willed myself to come, thinking of every girl I ever wanted to make out with, of every fantasy I'd ever had about making out.

My thoughts and the physical stimulation Bromley's cock pumping in and out of my asshole took a long time but I finally managed to get a bone on and finally I felt the twang in my groin and I began to spurt. My cum shot out like it was being shot from a cannon and splatted against my chest and ran down my sides. That triggered Bromley and the pervert began to fill my asshole, gasping and grunting and snorting like a pig. Savalos told him to pull his cock out and of course he did, splattering my cock and nuts with the last of his slime. Savalos finished off the film with the two of us pressing our naked, sweaty, cum-spattered bodies against each other and kissing.

We had taken almost the entire two hours. Savalos didn't give us a chance to wash up. We put on our clothes with our bodies still sticky with sweat and each other's slime. We drove home in silence, dropping Bromley off first and then me. Pulling up in front of our house a half hour after my curfew, I knew I was in big trouble. Dad was furious all over again, and disappointed in me. He asked if I'd been drinking or had done any drugs or anything. Of course I could honestly say I hadn't done anything like that and I never have. He stepped up and sniffed and said I smelled like bleach and gave me a look as if he suspected I'd tried to hide the smell of booze or pot or something. Bleach of all things! My mouth was filled with the taste of dick and I imagined my breath had to smell like one, and I figured my body smelled of cum and sex. Bleach! I was thankful he didn't recognize the smells and sent me off to bed. I had a long hot shower until we ran out of hot water and rinsed my mouth out with half a bottle of mouthwash. It didn't help. I still felt dirty and I didn't sleep.

I moped around all the next day, Saturday. All I could think about was Prom night, the one thing I wished I could wipe from my mind. Several of the guys called but I didn't return their calls. After supper, a black dude with the darkest skin I've ever seen showed up at our door asking for me. He had a plastic grocery bag and asked if we could talk privately so I took him up to my room. He closed the door behind us.

"Here are the names and contact information for your new fan club," he said, taking out the sheets of ass wipe that had been slipped to me through the hole the previous night, "and a smart phone. Dimitri wants you to start entertaining tomorrow. Have you ever used a hidden cam recorder?" He took what was obvious one out of the bag and then another. I shook my head. "They're really quite simple. These two are state of the art. Nothing but the best for Dimitri. Gigabytes of memory and triggered by motion sensors. Here's how you load the memory sticks. Dimitri's sent you a pile of them." They were simple to use and the guy had evidently set them up before. He arranged them on my bookshelf and having me sit on my bed he took up several positions and then checked out the pictures on his laptop. He adjusted them and posed again, this time pulling down his fly and pulling out his pecker. Good God no! My heart sank. He checked the thumb drives again and made another adjustment. He had me take his cock in his mouth and then he sat on the bed and had me kneel and take his cock in my mouth again and he checked out the cams once more. "Okay, be sure you're sitting there and the guy you're sucking is standing there, or have him sit where you are and you kneel before him here. Got it?" I nodded. "The one cam's set for distance but the other's for a close up so you got no more than maybe fifteen centimetres right or left, understand?" I nodded again. "Notice exactly where each cam is when you change memory sticks and put them back in exactly the same place, got it?" I nodded.

"Chief rigged up dual cams when he covered the cubicle at the school before the prom, one for the last stall and one for the adjoining stall. Dimitri said to tell you he'll send you a copy of the recordings later." He took a familiar-looking plastic bottle out of the bag. "This is for your kid brother. I hear he looks up to you like a real hero. Tell him to keep it in the fridge and for best results he should put the bottle in boiling water to bring the contents up to body temperature. Dimitri's even provided you with a thermometer." He grinned, his white teeth contrasting with his tar-black skin. "Tell him to take two swigs every morning after breakfast and after he's brushed his teeth. Dimitri wants you to record it on your smart phone and send it to him." He turned the bag upside down and shook out a slip of paper. "That's his phone number," he said, handing me the slip of paper. "That's it. Any questions?" I shook my head. "You don't talk much, do you?" he said. "But then that's not the main use you make of your tongue is it?" he added with a grin.

I looked at the bottle after he left. It now had a professional-looking label: "WANKIT. The only totally organic protein-packed power drink for the serious athlete."

How they knew about Danny I have no idea but he did worship me and he wanted to be an athlete just like me. He loved nothing more than to shoot baskets with me. I debated all night what I should do. My God, he would only be ten next month. If I didn't do what I'd been told would he suddenly find himself in that warehouse in Ogden? I was sure of the answer to that. The next morning I handed him the bottle and gave him the instructions. Told him I'd gotten it specially just for him, now that he was going to be ten. He'd believe anything I said. I sat there guilty as hell as he warmed it up. The thermometer was a medical thermometer with the body temperature marked on it. He unscrewed the cap and sniffed and wrinkled up his nose.

"What's in this stuff?"

"What it says. Protein."

"Smells weird."

"Just take two swallows."

"Sortta… like when mom does the laundry. Like soap."

"Just drink it, will ya?"

He took a swallow and wrinkled up his face. "It tastes weird, and it's slimy."

"Two swallows."

He took a second and wiped the film of slime from his lips and his chin with the back of his hand. "And it sticks to your tongue and your teeth." I recorded it all on my new smart phone. When he went out to play with his friends, I went up to my room and sent the recording off to the number I'd been given. I took out the sheets of toilet paper and looked over the names once again. A few of the guys I knew. Most I didn't. Two I chummed with. I inhaled deeply and punched in the first number.

Chapter 9
A Demonstration of Power

Story told by the son of Judge Raymond Snowball Breem, a hard case judge against child porn, pedos, gays, abortion, and premarital sex, at home a bully and alcoholic. His children fear him but are also snooty and righteous and hold his opinions. Their parents captured, their two boys pose suggestively and are photographed while their twelve-year-old daughter is taken to her room. The two boys suck Dimitri and Kwame and each other, engage in snowballing, and are fucked in front of their parents.

Characters: Judge Raymond Breem (46yo), His wife (45yo), sons Raymond (13yo) and Albert (9yo), and daughter Kathalina (12yo)
Code – mt, mb, tb (incest), interracial, mg, noncons

I had no sooner crawled into bed and shut off the light when I heard my parent's car pull into the driveway and the garage door open. I glanced at the clock on my night table and had to smile at my timing. Eleven-fifteen. I had known I was cutting it close. They had returned almost spot on the time I had anticipated them to. Dad, the Honourable Judge Raymond Snowball Breem to everyone else in the world, was totally predicable, on the job and in private life. The door leading to the back of the house from the garage banged open and there was a more than usual amount of banging into furniture and clumping about, with mumbled cursing. There was no doubt it was Dad. He was loud and angry and complaining about something, and drunk as a skunk, none of which was new and all also totally predictable. I was surprised I didn't hear Mom shushing him and telling him he was going to wake the children. After all these years she still didn't understand that he didn't give a damn. Dad was only concerned about himself, numero uno. You would never get ahead in life if you didn't look after yourself first according to him, and he was right. I had learned that lesson from him when I was four and had fought with my sister over the last piece of cake.

He and Mom had gone to some banquet at the Fairmont Macdonald, an old hotel but still ranked as one of the fanciest and most expensive in the city. I have no idea what the occasion was. As one of the longest-serving Justices on the Provincial Court of Alberta, he and Mom were invited to a lot of banquets, which meant we had a lot of suppers alone, but none of us minded that. Loaded pizza, cheese sticks, and two litres of Coke and nobody to remind you to keep your elbows off the table when you ate or to reprimand you when you burped, except your younger sister and she was a real princess and came by it naturally.

There was another voice, mechanical and with a twang. I could not make out the words and I wondered where it had come from. There was more banging about, a crash and the sound of something shattering, more cursing and muffled grunting, and finally silence. Maybe five minutes later there were footsteps on the staircase and in the hallway. It was not Dad nor Mom. I'd come to recognize their footsteps years ago. The door across the hallway from mine opened. Kathlina's. She cried out, sounding surprised and frightened. The mechanical voice spoke again and I strained to hear what was going on. As my door began to open, I lay there unmoving, squinting through half-closed eyes, breathing slowly and deeply. I'd feigned sleep many times when one or the other parent had stuck his or her head in to check I was asleep, so they'd figure I'd turned in at my curfew time, and to avoid a stinking, boozy kiss. I had become very good at it. The figure in the dark was too big to be Mom, and too slender to be Dad. What the frig was going on?

"Get out of bed, young Master Breem." The voice was mechanical, as if spoken by a robot, but not quite the same voice as I had heard earlier.

Something very weird was going on. I pretended to still be sleeping as I tried to decide what to do. This was definitely a stranger hovering above my bed, and strangers don't enter your bedroom and hover over your bed at eleven-fifteen at night except in horror movies, which I had been watching and which was the reason I'd cut it so close tonight.

"Now," the voice said, neither angry nor annoyed, just in a matter-of-fact tone but with the hint of a foreign accent as the stranger pulled off my blankets and bent over. I looked up into a clown mask, white face, red, bulbous nose, large, smiling red lips, and orange tufts of hair.

"What is going on?" I asked, pretending to be groggy as I swung my feet out and pretending to rub the sleep from my eyes, my heart in my throat and pounding a hundred beats a minute as I tried to think what the frig I should do. In response the clown grabbed me by the back of the collar of my pajamas top with one hand and by the seat of my pajamas bottoms with the other and half-carried and half-walked me out of my room and into the hallway. He was wearing white gloves. Another man was heading down the stairs, a huge man, with Kathlina ahead of him. The man carrying me opened my younger brother's door and marched me inside. My brother was sitting up, looking worried and frightened. He'd gone to bed just minutes before I had, taking advantage of our parent's absence to stay up late and watch television, programs a nine-year-old is not allowed to watch, those with the warnings about nudity and foul language, though there was unlikely anything he'd hear that he hadn't already heard in our house.

"Raymond? What's happening?" His voice quavered.

"I don't know."

"Let's go," the clown said, nodding to the door. Albert slowly got out of bed, his eyes widening as he looked up at the clown, and headed down the stairs ahead of us. We went to the parlour which looked out over the backyard. The parlour was where my parents entertained important guests and where we kids were rarely allowed. It was filled with memorabilia from our holidays in Europe and Asia, expensive stuff, and antiques meant to impress others. An end table from the era of some French King, Louis the fourteenth or something, was tipped over and the leg broken and one of mom's Ming vases was smashed on the floor. There were three clowns, the big one I'd seen going down the stairs standing there with a big hand on Kathlina's shoulder, the one who had collected me and my brother, and a third about the same size as the second and facing us. They all had white gloves and identical masks and identical clothes, baggy with a bright floral print of multicoloured flowers and impossibly large shoes.

Looking totally ridiculous sitting side by side on the low coffee table, from the same French King I think, with their wrists tied behind their backs and their ankles tied to the ornate legs of the table which was so low it caused their knees to be awkwardly jutting up in the air, sat Mom and Dad. Dad's suit trousers and underwear, boxers with blue and white stripes, were pulled down around his ankles, and mom's dress and slip were pulled up and tucked under her butt and her panties, white and lacy, were pulled down to her ankles. I immediately glanced away but my eyes rebounded back to look at Mom. Frig! I had never seen pussy before. You could see hers, plain as day. Well, her patch of curlies anyway. They were brown, a mousier brown than the hair on her head. Dad's face was flushed a bright red, from rage and from alcohol, a condition we've all seen before. His nose was almost as red as the red balls the clowns wore as noses but unlike theirs his veins were sticking out. Mom was terror-stricken and flushed with embarrassment and probably her share of booze.

"You fucking, Goddamn, sick sons-a-bitches, you're going to pay for this," Dad thundered. He swore like the proverbial trooper when he was angry, which was most of the time, both on the job and at home, which got him in trouble in both places. The words I know I learned from him, and some of the words even high school kids at school didn't know. "I'll see you spend so fucking long in jail you'll forget what the fucking sun looks like. Untie us this fucking minute-."

He didn't get to finish his sentence. The third clown simply turned and gave him a swift kick between his outspread legs. He didn't have to kick very high. The table was low and the way Dad's legs were tied, his balls and prick were hanging down over the edge of the coffee table. That had to have friggin' hurt. It shut him up anyway. He sat there gasping for breath and wheezing.

"I've had enough of your big mouth you old windbag," the clown said. His voice wasn't angry nor annoyed, just flat and serious like the first clown's. He also had some sort of device in his mask that distorted his voice, making his voice sound sort of like Darth Vader's.

"Do you have any fucking idea who you're fucking dealing with?" Dad sputtered, unfazed by the vulnerable position he was in and from having been kicked in the nuts.

"Oh, very much so. The Honourable Judge Raymond Snowball Breem, Justice of the Provincial Court of Alberta, Edmonton Criminal division." He gave a mock bow. "Do you have any idea who you are dealing with?" Dad glared back. He evidently did not. "You'll remember the Jack McCurdy case." It didn't mean anything to me, but it did to Dad from the look on his face. "You'll remember getting a letter, telling you to toss the case out, telling you to find some technical reason to let him go free, some slipup made by the police, some procedural error, anything. But you didn't."

"The pervert was guilty," Dad spat. "He got what he deserved. Actually, he got far less than the fucking sick son-of-a-bitch deserved, but I sentenced him to the maximum sentence I could under the law."

"Two years for taking a few pictures of pretty little boys? Pretty little boys like you've got here," he said, stepping over and slipping a finger under my chin and raising my head. Beneath the mask and behind his long, feathery eyelashes were the ice-cold eyes of the sharpest blue I've ever seen.

"Leave my children alone. You touch a Goddamn hair on their heads-."

The clown tousled my hair. "Oh my, we intend on touching much more than the hair on their heads," he said coldly.

"Please. Please don't hurt them," Mom pleaded. It was the first time she had spoken since we'd entered the room. Her speech was blurred. She must have had a lot to drink. "Oh, we have no intention of hurting them. Just the opposite, we're going to see they experience pleasures they've never dreamed of before. Or maybe they have dreamed of them," he said, looking me in the eyes. Oh frig! He knew. I don't know how, but he did. I knew and he knew I knew he knew.

"Please, we'll do anything you ask," Mom said.

"Really? Too late. You had that chance." The clown turned and looked at Dad. "I warned you. I told you to dismiss the Jack McCurdy case. I told you to see that the charges were dropped and that would be the end of it, but if you didn't, that you'd pay, and so would your family."

"I don't give in to threats nor demands, nor negotiate with criminals, any criminals, and especially not scum like child molesters and kiddy pornographers."

"Oh so holy and righteous. Jack McCurdy didn't molest a single child. All he did is take some pictures of them. He didn't even touch them or have them do anything sexual."

"Including toddlers and children in diapers."

"The only harm that came to them was the guilt and shame their parents and righteous puritans like you made them feel later about posing nude for him." The clown looked at me and my brother and sister. "So, what's going to happen now, any shame or guilt you're going to feel, is all your almighty Dad's fault. Remember that. He had the power and the means to prevent this, but the omnipotent, all-knowing, righteous Judge Breem knew better than the rest of us. He threw a man in jail for doing nothing more than taking a few pictures of naked boys. Other judges would have given him a warning, or maybe a fine and a lecture, or house arrest, but oh no, not your hard-ass father. He has a reputation to protect. His reputation. So, what happens next is his fault. Remember that." He looked at each of us in turn, and finally at Mom and Dad.

The guy hadn't said anything that I hadn't known, that I haven't heard or read dozens of times already, from newspaper editors, columnists, television commentators, lawyers, reporters, fellow judges, you name it. My father, the Honourable Judge Raymond Snowball Breem of the Provincial Court of Alberta, Edmonton Criminal Division, has a reputation. He is a hard-ass from the old school, especially hard when it comes to cases involving child pornography, paedos, gays and lesbians and transsexuals and the transgendered, abortion, and premarital sex. He shows no leniency. It was well known that you didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting off if you were charged with those crimes, hence his nickname. He knew what they said about him and called him, and he was proud of it. He made no bones about the fact he would never give in, never back down, never agree with the bleeding heart liberals who would change the laws, and never give squat about threats.

The thing is he is right, and I am frigging proud of his stand, and of his frigging reputation. I am proud he is my dad. A lot of kids at school have given me a rough time over his opinions, saying that he was a dinosaur, that he should get on with the times, that this wasn't the Victorian age, that things have changed and he should reflect today's society. All they were doing was mouthing opinions they heard their parents say, parents who had faggot sons or daughters who were loose and got knocked up by their boyfriends, parents who were bleeding-heart liberals. Dad had explained that. Frig, the government was even forcing schools to let girls who identified as boys, whatever that meant, use boys' washrooms. As if I want some girl who thinks she's a boy but who just wants to see what I have without showing me hers walking by while I'm at the urinal with my prick out taking a piss. Fags have even convinced the government to force schools to have gay alliance clubs so they can convert other kids and turn them into fags. It's all part of the fag agenda. When the seat is warm the possibility that the guy who sat in the desk the class before me might have been a fag makes my skin crawl. I know these things. We've had discussions about the homo agenda of the breakfast table, and over the supper table, and I've heard Dad in the evenings in discussions with lawyers and other judges. He's frigging right and society is going down the frigging toilet because there aren't more men willing to stand up like he does.

"All just because the man took a few pictures of pretty boys. Drunk drivers responsible for deaths of entire families get less time. Murderers claiming insanity get off altogether. They complain that the courts are swamped and overworked? They wouldn't be if they stuck to dealing with real criminals who do real harm to others."

I had heard those arguments too, but he was wrong. Give in an inch and you might as well throw away all your principles. That's what Dad said. Murderers and paedos, that was comparing apples and oranges. How can one equate a murderer with a child abuser? They have nothing in common. How can one say the damage that a paedo like a coach or a teacher who messes with boys causes and that can surface dozens of years later is less harmful than the harm done by a murder, that the harm done by a murderer is worst? People who have been molested as kids suffer irreparable damage that make them totally unable to function in society, all because of some sicko who gets turned on by kids.

"So what do you say? You agree with your ol'man?" the clown asked me as if he had been reading my thoughts.

"I most certainly do. There's nothing sicker than guys who get off with children."

"Look at him. Your ol'man is so out of touch with the times that is the real crime, and he gets hundreds of thousands of dollars a year, one of the top paid judges in the province. And on top of it, he's a bully and an alcoholic. You think he's fit to be a judge? You think he's fit to be a father?"

"Yes."

The guy just stared at me. At least I had shut him up. I had heard all that before too. He wasn't telling me anything new. Dad was a bully, at work and at home, and he was an alcoholic. There had been complaints about him at work, and investigations, over both charges, but nothing came of it. I knew of both firsthand at home. Mom feared him and did whatever he told her to do, especially when he was drunk. It was a small price to pay for being able to say you were the wife of a judge, and for the vacations in Europe and Asia. I and my brother and sister feared him too, especially when he was drunk. I had learned how to stay out of his way and to agree with whatever he said. I don't know about my brother and sister. I looked out for myself, numero uno. That was what was important. Besides, it wasn't his fault. There were laws, good laws, and he upheld them despite all odds against him, like a superhero, despite the efforts of the bleeding hearts in society to change them. It wasn't easy being a hero and he had to be tough and sometimes a bully. And sometimes he needed a strong drink. It was the price one paid for having high principles and morals and fighting for them. It was the price we all had to pay. I agreed with everything Dad said because he was right. He didn't back down, and nor did I. We were Breems. The people looked up to us and depended on us. Sure Dad was well paid. He deserved it, and the vacations and everything else. And so did we.

"How old are you?"

"I'll be fourteen in November."

"In November. So… that makes you thirteen and eight months. You've just finished grade…"

"Eight."

"So young and so brainwashed already." He shook his head. "So tell me, you like girls, Raymond?"

He knew my first name. How? "Of course."

"You think about having sex with them?" Well of course I did. "Ah, ha. So you do," he said, taking my pause for a yes. "Have you had sex with them yet?"

"No."

"But you'd like to."

"Well, sure, sometime. I'm not gay."

"You ever think about guys? Wonder how you compare to them? Maybe check them out in the showers at school?"

"That don't mean nothin'. Everyone wonders. That don't make them gay."

"Ah, but you think about it. You think about sex. You think about what guys look like. Like you said, everyone wonders. And you wonder if that makes you gay. You check out pictures of naked boys on the net?"

"No!" "Why not?"

"Like I said, I'm not gay."

"But you check out the guys in the showers."

"That don't-I never said I did."

"But you have. So what's the difference between checking out your friends and checking out pictures of boys your age on the net?"

I knew what he was trying to do. Dad talked about lawyers who argued like him all the time. Shysters he called them. Using their fast tongues and inappropriate methods to confuse witnesses and twist the facts around. I didn't respond. He picked up a laptop he must have brought with him and opened it. Dad of course refused to give him our WiFi code which resulted in another kick in the nuts. As he stepped up to Mom she gave it to him, with a glare. Moments later he called me over. He had opened up a site with naked boys, boys my age or older, some younger. Most were just standing around, staring into the camera or staring into space. Some were flaunting their stuff and leering into the camera. He flicked to another site, one with boys and girls, men and women, all ages, playing volleyball, fishing, doing everyday stuff. A few had their arms about each other but all innocently, like in family pictures.

"See anything dirty about these pictures?"

"Everyone's naked."

"The first site were models. This site's nudists. They aren't ashamed of letting others see them naked, or seeing others naked. That's not dirty. Modelling in the nude is legal in this country. So are nudist colonies. There's good money to be made as a model. With your looks you and your brother could make a bundle."

"Modelling in the nude and nudist colonies aren't for decent folk," Dad retorted. "And McCurdy wasn't photographing professional models nor nudists at a colony."

While I had been looking at the two sites the other two clowns had opened up a couple bags I hadn't noticed in the corner when we'd been brought downstairs and took out some tripods and cameras and began setting them up. The third clown explained that they were going to take some pictures of my brother Albert and me, pictures like I'd just seen in the first site. We could cooperate, or they would tie us up and do things that were not so nice and take pictures of that. Mom begged them to leave us alone and said if it was money they wanted she and dad would pay. I was pretty certain this was not about money. Mom was very nice but naive at times. She hadn't caught on. Dad cursed them and threatened them. He hadn't caught on either. Walking over to the broken vase, the big clown picked up one of the larger pieces and squatting down before Dad, stretched out his nuts and held up the jagged edge of the broken piece. Mom and Dad shut up and Albert and I said we'd do whatever they said. We were much smarter than our parents. So they took pictures of my brother Albert and me in our pajamas, sitting in a sofa chair, slouching in it with a leg over the arm and looking seductive, a hand on our thigh and looking horny-I don't know what the difference in the two looks were. They took pictures of us standing beside the Ming vase that hadn't been broken, holding some marble statues from our vacation in Italy-which were nude or partially dressed-and looking at some replicas of famous paintings, either individually or the two of us together, sometimes our pajamas tops open, other times off, sometimes our bottoms pushed down to reveal the tops of our crotches or part of an ass cheek.

They opened up Dad's wine cabinet and opened up a bottle, the expensive stuff for special guests, and poured some in Mom's best crystal and had Albert and I pose with the bottle and drinking from the glasses. I know the bottle had to have cost several hundred dollars minimum. Why someone would pay that much for something that tasted so sour and to give to guests I don't know. They took pictures of each of us removing our pajamas tops and bottoms and posing like we had before all over again, individually and together, and then they had us dress again and they took pictures of the two of us unbuttoning each other's pajamas tops and removing them, pushing our bottoms down to reveal the beginning of our ass cracks and the tops of our crotches, and finally pushing them down to our ankles and stepping out of them. Mom and Dad stared at the floor. So did Kathlina, though she snuck glances at us once in a while.

The two clowns went upstairs with Albert and me and had us dress in our school uniforms and then had us pose all over again, dressed and partially dressed, individually and together, the same poses as in our pajamas. They poured us a second glass of wine. It didn't taste quite so bad. They took pictures of us undressing, and then of us undressing each other. Then it was back to our bedrooms and this time we dressed in our best clothes, clothes we'd wear if we were going with our parents where Dad was giving a speech or getting an award, or at a formal supper at home where people Dad wanted to impress were invited. Again we posed, fully dressed, partially dressed, in our underwear, our underwear slung low, and naked.

The third glass of wine was delicious, and we both drank it quite fast. The room had gotten hot and I was getting dizzy from being up so late. It had to be one or two in the morning. Albert looked like he was about to fall asleep any moment too. They had us dress all over again and this time took pictures of us undressing each other. That's all we did. Dress and undress and pose, nothing dirty or queer. It actually wasn't all that bad. I have a nice sized prick and a good set of balls and a lot of guys thought so. The clown had posted our pictures in our pajamas and in our school clothes, and out of them, on some site on the web and showed us the comments men were making about them already, comments about how hot looking we were, and how they wanted to see more, and how horny we were making them.

"You ever wonder about your dad. How he's hung and if you'll be hung like him when you're his age?"

"No," I giggled. I'd never thought of such a thing.

"No? Well here's your chance. Take a good look at him. That's you at forty-six."

I knew it was wrong but he had been sitting there with his pants and underwear down all this time. A glance wouldn't hurt, and now that he had mentioned it, I was curious. Dad had to have glanced at us with all the times we'd stripped down bare-butt naked that night. I glanced over at him sort of out of the corner of my eye. He had a lot of curlies and they spread way up over his belly, up to his belly button. He had a big belly. I knew he had a beer gut, but it wasn't so obvious with his pants on. He was circumcised, like I was, and his dick was fat and the bulb rounded, sort of like an old-fashioned light bulb, also like mine. I know some guys have a knob shaped more like a mushroom. His balls were large and hung in a long, wrinkled sack. He was the first adult I'd seen, except for the pictures I'd just seen. My balls and most guys I've seen in the showers are rounder and don't hang so low and I wondered if it was just Dad or if all adults were like that. It was sort of embarrassing standing there looking at him but I was having trouble focussing my mind. I really needed some sleep. The clown made my brother look too. He giggled. He had to be especially tired, even more than me.

"How old are you?" the clown asked Kathlina.

"Twelve and a half," she whispered. She was staring at the floor. It slowly dawned on me that I was butt naked. So was my brother. I slowly slipped my hands in front of me, trying not to be obvious. I didn't have to worry. Everyone was looking at Kathlina.

"So you're going into grade eight?" he asked after a moment.

"Yes."

"Have you ever seen a guy's cock before tonight?" She turned a bright red. "Well?"

"My brother's. My younger brother. When he was a baby," she whispered.

"Boys lately? Maybe a little game of show me yours and I'll show you mine with your friends?"

"No!"

"Maybe your dad?"

"No!"

"Well, take a good long look."

That was perverted. Mom pleaded and Dad cursed and threatened all over again. Neither helped. The thought of my sister standing there looking at my father's organ was sick. I glanced up at her, at her standing there staring at his prick and balls, her own father. She was red with embarrassment and shame. She was also amazed. Seeing my sister standing there staring at my father was embarrassing. It was also erotic. My dick began to swell. I tried to think of something else but I could not. It began to swell faster. Oh frig!

The clown said he'd noticed she had been stealing glances at me this evening, and to give mine a good look too, and he told me to move my hands away. When I didn't, he slapped them hard causing my knuckles to smart. As she stood there and stared at my stuff my prick began to lift and my cheeks turned red and felt hot enough to toast marshmallows. The clown laughed and told her it was so happy it was standing to meet her. Frig! It continued lifting, there in front of her, in front of the clowns, Albert, and Dad, and Mom. My face was so hot I didn't see how it was possible for there to be enough blood left to cause it to swell. I stared at the floor. I was boning up in front of my frigging sister!

The clown turned and looked at Mom. "Now, we don't want you to feel left out. Everyone's had a good look at your husband and your sons, so it's time everyone saw what you have. Fair's fair." Dad cursed and struggled as the clown ripped open Mom's dress, the expensive one she had just boughten for tonight's occasion, whatever that had been, and cut the straps of her bra and let it fall to the floor. He ordered me and my brother and sister to step forward and take a good look. I have no idea what a forty-five-year-old woman's boobs are supposed to look like. Mom's were plumb and I guess a bit fat. Mom is a bit on the heavy side. Her pearl necklace hung down over them. He nipples were big, bigger than her pearls, and a dark brown. A classmate had shown everyone a picture he'd gotten from a magazine a few months ago. Mom's boobs weren't anything like in the picture. The boobs of the woman in the picture looked firm and smooth, like balloons with little nipples. Mom's were blotchy and sort of wrinkled, but they were boobs, the first real boobs I'd actually seen.

I could not help looking lower. The picture we'd seen at school had been cut off just above the crotch. Mom had been sitting there all this time with her panties around her ankles, but I hadn't looked at her, not really, just a glance out of half-closed eyes when we'd first been brought downstairs. She had a lot of hair down there, a real lot. You could barely see her pussy, which was a bit of a disappointment. I mean being forced to look at my mother's pussy was sick, but if a guy was going to be forced, then there should be something to at least see. I didn't want to stare. My prick on the other hand was rock hard and standing up to have a good look. Frig! My Mom had to see I was stiff.

"Look how happy your brother's cock is now," the clown observed to Kathlina. "I bet it would go crazy for a chance to see you naked."

Again the pleading and the cursing. The guy didn't pay them the slightest attention. Don't adults ever learn? Especially parents? Kathlina was too scared not to obey. She slowly removed her pajamas' top, and then her bottoms. I had never really noticed, but she had developed breasts, not that large but round and nice and firm, like two bowls. She had hairs too, fine and not so much so you could see the lips of her pussy much better. My prick jerked. The clown said it wanted to shake hands, and told her to reach out and wrap her fingers about it and to squeeze it tight. Holding her breath like she was reaching out for a snake or something, she reached out and wrapped her fingers about it, and then squeezed when she was told to do so again. She was the first person to hold my prick, and the first girl. Sure, she was my sister, but it was hot, and my knob ached, like when I'm about to take a piss, or to shoot.

The clown told Kathlina to imagine what it would feel like to have my thing inside her. My own sister! Frig, I was going to squirt anytime!

"You said you were twelve and a half."

"That's right."

"You have big boobs already. Very nice. When did you start getting hairs?"

"Just after I turned twelve."

"That long ago! Then you must be having periods now." Kathlina nodded. I knew about periods. They taught about that in sex ed classes. Dad didn't believe in them. Sex ed classes that is. We weren't allowed to attend them, but almost everyone else does, and guys talk, especially about stuff like periods and menstruation and stuff.

"How many periods have you had so far?"

"Six," Kathlina replied, turning a bright red.

The clown looked at the bigger clown. "That's an important event in a young girl's life. Something you remember. Have you and your mother have about it?" Kathlina shook her head. "No? You sure you've had six periods?" She nodded. "Do you know how many days each one lasted?" She nodded again. "And?"

"The first one and the third one were seven days. The others were eight."

"When was the last one? What day did you begin and what day did you stop?"

Kathlina thought. "I began… June 25… and it ended on July 3."

"You're sure?" Kathlina nodded. Everyone appeared to have forgotten she was still holding my dick! "So…, four days ago. You're sure?" She nodded again. "That is wonderful! Just perfect." She looked up at him and then over at Mom.

"It is?" she asked. She was perplexed and so was I.

"Why don't you take Kathlina up to her bedroom and explain it to her," he said, looking at the big clown. Despite the protests of my mother and father, he placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her to the stairs. She was about to cry. "A personal conversation like that is best in private, not in front of your brothers," he said as she preceded the clown up the stairs. "Now, what about you?" he asked, turning to me. "When did you start getting pubes?"

"Pubes?"

"Hairs," he said, nodding at my crotch.

"Just before Christmas."

"Hmm. Six months. When did you first start jacking off?"

Frig! How did he know? I glanced down at my hands. They said you get hair between your fingers, or on your knuckles, but everyone knew that was just a joke to catch those who were doing it but saying they didn't. "About the same time," I whispered.

"Didn't hear you. What did you say?"

He heard. "About the same time," I repeated a little louder.

"And how often do you do it?"

Frig. Not in front of everyone. "I dunno."

"Of course you do. Every boy your age knows how often he does it."

"Once a week."

"Bull shit." Without warning he reached down and forming an "O" with his thumb and first finger he gave my nuts a thwack. I yelped with the pain. "How many times?"

"Twice. Three times."

"That's better. What do you think about when you jack off?"

"Girls."

"Boys?"

"Sometimes."

"But you're not gay."

"No."

"But you think about guys when you jack off."

"I wonder. You know. If they do it, stuff like that."

"What it would feel like up a pussy?"

"Yeah."

"Or getting a blow job."

"Yeah." There was a girl in high school who had supposedly done it, to the basketball team.

"Or giving a blow job."

"No."

"On your knees. Both of you."

He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me down. The other guy did the same with Albert. They undid their belts and their baggy trousers dropped to their ankles. The guy had hairy legs, especially his shins. He had a tan, sort of the colour of boys I'd seen on the beach the summer we visited Greece. The other guy' legs were smooth, but black, black as tar. They pushed down their underwear, the black guy standing before Albert, the other guy before me. What they were expecting us to do was wack. I didn't care what he said or did. There was no way he was going to make me do that.

"You know what you're supposed to do."

"No way. You're frigging sick. There's no way you're gonna make-."

He reached down with both hands and grasping my nipples between his thumbs and first fingers he pinched them tight and twisted. I yelped and squirmed but he had a firm grasp. "You Goddamn fucking sick cock-sucking bastard," I sputtered as I tried to break away and pain shot through my tender teats. As he released me, I inhaled deeply for another for another string of name calling. Like I said, I don't think there was a foul word we didn't hear our father use at one time or another. Before I could say anything he reached down and gave my nuts another thwack which caused me to double over in agony and brought tears to my eyes.

"I'll grant you one thing," the guy said to Dad. "Your son has balls. But if he keeps this up they're gonna be so bruised he's gonna start squirting blood."

The pain in my nuts wasn't quite enough to persuade me to stop protesting, but the possibility of his threat being true was. That consequence of continuing to fight him did not make it worth it, and in the end I'd still be forced to do it. I slowly straightened up. His prick was long and thick and the thought of his bulb in my mouth made me want to gag. Inhaling deeply, I opened wide and slipped my lips over his bulb and did what I did when I had to eat asparagus, or liver. I imagined it was something else. I thought of wieners, and then sausages. That just made it worse. I imagined it was liver. At first I just put his knob in my mouth and sucked. He explained how to work my lips up and down his shaft, and how to breathe so I could go down further. And so we did it, my brother and I, side by side, on our knees, in front of our parents. We sucked cock. It was sick and filthy. I didn't see how any guy or girl could like doing it. It was not long before the two men began to breathe more heavily and irregularly and to fidget. We were told they were about to cum, and that when they did we were to catch their slime in our mouths and not swallow it. I was more than willing to comply. I could not see why anyone would possibly want to swallow another guy's stuff, and when the guy did begin to squirt his slime in my mouth I definitely did not have any desire to swallow his semen. It was actually pretty much tasteless, perhaps just a touch bitter and maybe a touch salty, but the constituency was nauseating, like a blob of half-cooked fat or an undercooked soft-boiled egg, sort of what I imagined glue or snot from a runny nose would be like. Those thoughts caused me to start to gag and I quickly tried to block all thoughts from my mind and imagined I had a mouth full of jelly instead. It took all my effort of concentration. When they were done squirting, they squeezed the rest out and had us suck the last out before they pulled out their cocks. Having me sit on the sofa and tilt my head back with my mouth open, they had Albert step up to me and bend over so his lips were above my mouth and then drool the other guy's slime into my mouth along with his spittle. The clown I had sucked said that was called snowballing, and he and the other guy thought that was a big joke.

They then had Albert kneel in front of me and take my prick in his mouth. I had gone soft when the guy had thumped my nuts but sucking on the guy's prick had started to get me stiff again. Having my knob in Albert's hot, moist mouth got me hard once more, and as he began to suck and slip his lips up and down my shaft my knob began to tingle and my prick began to throb. It was way hotter than jacking myself off, and felt a lot more pleasurable. My naked kid brother, sucking my cock, there on his knees, the two of us in front of our parents! That was totally sick! It was also totally hot even if it was perverse. In hardly any time at all I was ready to come and I grunted and inhaled deeply and squirmed and held my breath, unable to tell him with my mouth full of slime. The two clowns knew what was happening, and probably my parents too, and again the clown who seemed to be the boss told Albert not to swallow.

With a final grunt I began spurting my stuff in his mouth. I had to wonder what mine tasted like, and if it was a gross as the slime in my mouth. I came a lot and fast. Again they made him continue sucking me after I had finished squirting and made me squeeze out the rest of my stuff, like I do when I jerk off. They then made Albert sit down with his head back and his mouth wide open and me lean over him. The sight of my cum in his mouth, white and watery and sort of like egg white, caused my prick to twinge and I felt a final droplet ooze out the tip and cling there. As I drooled the cum in my mouth into his, the droplet oozed out and hung in a long streamer from the tip of my stiff prick. When I was done, I could not help but glance at him. He looked back at me helplessly and desperately and looking like he was about to puke, his lips smeared with a film of slime.

As he sat there, they had me kneel between his legs and take his prick in my mouth. It was soft and smooth, like a noodle, but as I began to suck his little prick got stiff. So I slipped my lips up and down it, from his smooth pubes to his bulb and back down, and sucked on it there before our parents who had finally realized their protesting was useless. I had to wonder what Dad was thinking, seeing us performing that perverted act, and what Mom had to think seeing her two sons naked and one sucking the other's prick. I could feel his dick throbbing between my lips and I could hear him breathing heavier and more irregularly. Finally he began to gasp and grunt and then began twitching, thrusting his hips up and his stiff dick in my mouth, and I knew he was climaxing. I thought back to how mine had felt when I had begun jerking off just shortly before I started to squirt.

Then the black guy was standing before me, his big black dick stiff and sticking up in the air. It was just a bit shorter and more slender than the other guy's. His was uncut and the skin was pulled back. His bulb looked like a big, shiny black plum. As I leaned forward, I noticed his prick and balls smelled different somehow. I couldn't exactly say how, but they were different from the first guy's, sort of spicy. It sort of reminded me of Cajun chicken. I opened wide and slipped my lips over his bulb. His prick tasted different too, sort of like a raw wiener. I was really losing my mind. The wine, the lack of sleep, being forced to suck still another dick in front of my parents and my brother, I was losing it, thinking of Cajun chicken and hot dogs. As I sucked on his cock and slipped my lips up and down his shaft I wondered if that was what it was like for fags, if that's how they found the taste of other guys' dicks. I was becoming a real faggot cocksucker. Now that was something. I giggled. I don't know why, but I did.

And so I knelt there buck naked and sucking the big black prick of a black guy in a clown costume and wearing a clown mask with a big red nose with my kid brother and my mom and dad watching me. My jaws were getting tired and my neck sore and stiff. I wondered if a black guy's stuff tasted different from a white guy's. Maybe it would be like dark chocolate pudding. That would really be something. It was not that long before I found out. At least it did not seem that long. He didn't come as much as the first guy had, and his load was a lot thicker, more like glue, and it had more of a gooey constituency. It didn't taste like chocolate pudding, though it was not that unpleasant. I was really becoming a cock-sucking faggot.

And then I was sitting on my haunches on the back of my heels with my head thrown back and my mouth wide open and Albert was drooling all the slime in his mouth into mine. There was so much my tongue was floating in the stuff and I swear it was up to the brim of my mouth. And then Albert sucked off the first guy, the guy I had sucked off, and I sat there and watched. As I watched I wondered how many times we going to have to do this! Albert looked like he was half asleep as he sucked and worked his lips up and down the guy's cock. He went at least half way down it and looked like he was enjoying it. Myself, I was exhausted and everything was blurry and the room was spinning and seemed awful hot. I really had to work at not swallowing the goo in my mouth. I was slowly aware that my prick was hard and was itching to get off again. That was sick. What the frig sort of person was I! When Albert was done, I spit the stuff in my mouth into his. His mouth was almost full of the slime and spit.

"Looks like the horny little prick is aching to get off another load," the man I'd sucked first observed. My prick nodded in agreement.

"His little brother could suck him if his mouth wasn't full."

Instead they had me lie on my back in the middle of the parlour and throw my legs over my head so my dick was upside down and pointing at my face. They added some sofa pillows to support me and told me to wank one off in my mouth. I was horny and had to get off, and I knew there'd be worse if I didn't. You have to always know who has the power and when to challenge. I heard Dad say that many times, and I'd seen the truth of it enough times to know it was smart. The guy had the power, and this was not the time to challenge him. I reached up and began to wank. I had no choice, and after everything I'd been forced to do I didn't care if my mother and father were there in the room. My brother was forced to sit down beside me and to wank himself while he watched. He'd heard Dad just as often as I and I suspect he had come to the same conclusion. Judge Breem's kids are not stupid. As Albert sat there pumping his fingers up and down his little, stiff prick I wondered what he was thinking. He looked like he was liking it. Despite everything, I was. I couldn't help it. I was thirteen and I was horny. There are some things that are just natural, and wanking when you're my age is one of them. It was not that long before my prickhead was itching like crazy and I knew it would not be long before I began squirting. I was supposed to squirt in my mouth but when the time came I wasn't very good at aiming and spattered half of my load all over my face. As I was finishing, my brother began to jerk and spasm with his orgasm and I remembered how awesome it had been when I'd first started doing it and couldn't squirt yet. I envied him. He was starting way earlier than I had.

They made me spit what cum I had managed to squirt into my mouth into his mouth, and then they had him drool half of what was in his mouth back into my mouth and told us to churn it around like it was mouthwash. Some frigging mouthwash! The leader finally told us to swallow. I was tempted to spit it in his face, and I might have if he hadn't been wearing a mask. Besides, I remembered how he had thwacked my nuts and there was no way that was going to happen again. And so we swallowed. It was like having a mouth full of Jell-O. Once it started to go down it all flowed down my throat in one gulp. It was also like having a mouth full of glue. What was left stuck to my tongue and gums and teeth no matter how many times I tried to swallow. My arms and legs turned to gooseflesh as it went down, and I noticed Albert's did too.

The third clown came down the stairs with Kathlina just as we finished. Her hair was all tangled and sticking out and her eyes were red and her cheeks streaked from crying and she was walking funny, sort of bowlegged. The hairs of her pussy were all matted and stuck together and to the lips of her pussy as if someone had poured syrup down her pussy crack. I wondered what she had been doing and if the third clown had made her give him blow jobs too, and then I slowly realized what he had probably been doing with her. My sister! My heart speeded up and my blood pressure rose and I wanted to attack the slime ball. Mom was sobbing and Dad glared and muttered that they were going to pay big time for this. The three clowns ignored him, as if they were deaf. They were in power.

Their leader had a tube, like what you have suntan lotion or toothpaste or something in. He squeezed out a bit of whatever it was on his knob and then handed it to the other guy I had sucked off and smeared the stuff over his knob. The other guy did the same. They were both stiff and whatever the stuff was it looked greasy and made their cocks shine, specially the black guy's knob. The leader motioned for Albert and me to stand and as I did so I considered giving his nuts a kick. They were hanging right there and I might have been able to, and I was really tempted, but the more reasonable part of my brain asked what I would do then. Get to a phone and call for help? Run to the neighbours? Kick the other two in the nuts first? I wouldn't have a chance to do any of them. Not a snowball's chance. They would pay for what they had done, but not at the moment. They still had the power.

The leader told me to bend over and spread my legs and he wiped his greasy fingers on my anus and up my butt crack. Frig no! Guys talked about fags doing this sort of thing, and of girls letting guys do it that way to them instead of using their cunts. The black guy had Albert stand and bend over beside me and he did the same thing to him. Grasping my hips, their leader stepped up behind me and I felt his hard, hot, greasy knob press against my anus. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth as he pushed forward. His knob and my anus were greasy and I felt his knob stretching open my anus. There was nothing I could do about it but his knob was big, way bigger than a turd, and maybe it would be too big. I hoped it was, and prayed it would be. He paused and I hoped he was giving up, but he inhaled deeply and pushed all the harder. I clenched my eyes and tensed my muscles. Pain shot up my anus like it had been poked with a needle. Inhaling sharply and holding my breath, I wanted to scream with the pain. My kid brother was crying and telling the black guy it was hurting and the black guy told him to push out like he was taking a shit. I took his advice.

And then I felt the guy's knob pop inside my rectum. He kept pushing and I felt his cock penetrating me, filling my rectum as he pushed it in deeper and deeper, and I felt my insides, my bladder or whatever, moving aside to make room for his cock. And then his hairs, coarse and scratchy, were pressing against my butt and his cock was deep inside me. He was grunting and snorting and I realized so was I. I heard my brother inhale deeply and moan, and the black guy snorting and then sigh. The two men just stood there for a moment, panting and catching their breath, and then they began working their cocks in and out of our assholes. It felt weird. I could feel the guy's prick deep inside me, hot and throbbing. My anus burned like it had been scraped raw and was being pricked by a dozen pins. As the guy pumped his prick in and out it rubbed against something inside me that made me jerk and squirm as it sent a shock through my insides, painful but pleasurable too, the type of shock that shoots up your dick when you are squirting.

My dick was hard and throbbing and the head itching, and I gasped for breath and grunted and groaned and the guy's dick throbbed harder and harder and hotter and hotter. I could not believe it. I was being fucked. I was being fucked like a girl, and so was my brother, in front of my mom and my dad and my sister. It felt weird having a guy's prick pumping in and out of my ass, and it was embarrassing and shameful as hell. This was filthy. It was perverted. It was something fags did. I hated the frigging son-of-a-bitch more than I ever hated anyone. Even my dad when he was drunk and being a jerk. My asshole was burning and my prick stiff and throbbing and my knob burning and aching as I imagined it would be if I had it up some girl's cunt. And then the guy behind me gasped and grasped my ass tight and rammed his prick up my asshole and I felt his stuff spurting into me, burning hot, spurting even deeper up my rectum. I stood there and shivered and gasped and the guy behind me snorted as he came up my ass and suddenly my prick throbbed and my cum came spurting out and across the room to splat on the thick, expensive carpet Mom fussed about. My brother was moaning and I realized he was having an orgasm beside me.

Everything was sort of fuzzy after that. When they left, they took Kathlina with them, saying something about keeping her and returning her if she missed her period or something. Why she would miss her period I had no idea and why that was important before they returned her was even more of a mystery. The leader said we'd gotten off easy this time, and that there would be more trials and more letters and Dad had better listen next time. They said not to do anything stupid about what had happened tonight, and not to try to find Kathlina or they might not bring her back. As I groggily dropped to my knees and began to untie Dad's ankles, I knew he would be on the phone the moment he was untied. There was justice, and there was power. They'd had the power, and thought they still did, but Dad was more powerful than them. He was one of the most powerful men in the province, and he had justice on his side. This was just the beginning of the war, and he would have his revenge. He would have his power back and his honour redeemed no matter what, regardless of Mom or Kathlina or Albert or me. I knew that but it had been too long a night and I was too exhausted and muddled for me to decide how I felt about that right then.

Chapter 10
Hangin' with Uncle Dimitri

Story told by Marcus. Dimitri take his nephew Lucas, now 7 and 5 months and going into grade 2, to Glenmore Park where he has arranged to meet up with a 17 yo grade 12 student he had chatted with on a gay chat line about water sports and who is waiting with a full bladder. From there he takes his nephew to an unofficial nude beach and cruising area in the park where they meet up with two other men, a bear and a married man.

Characters: Dimitri (22yo), Lucas (7yo), Matthew (17yo), Poppabear (married man) – Mt tb – oral – ws (watersports)

"It's hot enough this afternoon to singe the hairs on the devil's arse," Uncle Dimitri said, making me giggle. We had just finished eating lunch on the patio and were sitting in the back yard, me in the plastic pool and him in a lawn chair that Nonna had placed under the shade of an umbrella and with his feet in the pool. He was wearing a blue sleeveless shirt with his arms crossed behind his head. He had long armpit hair and it was damp and plastered to his skin. There was a dark blue stain along the sides and the front of his shirt and down most of his back from his sweat. I was in my swim suit. Nonna, wearing what she always wore, a dress with a flower design, was sitting in the shade on the deck. Today was her birthday but we had celebrated it yesterday. Looking up from the birthday cards she was looking at, she shook her head and frowned and nodded toward me.

"Sorry," Dimitri apologized. "On the devil's bum." I giggled again and Nonna frowned harder. "I bet you could crack an egg and fry it on the sidewalk." He reached inside the front of his pants and scratched his nuts. I bet they were hot and sweaty. Nonna gave him a hard look and shook her head. He pulled his hand out and when she wasn't looking raised them to his nose and sniffed and then pinched his fingers together in front of his lips and threw a kiss and smiled at me, making me laugh and Nonna to turn and look at him again, but she missed what he had done. I bet his nuts really smelled and I wished Nonna wasn't outside and I could have a whiff of them. I like the way they smell, sort of like a goat cheese Nonno likes.

"You know, Nonna, I bet if you left one of your frying pans out in this sun for half an hour and Marcus didn't see it and sat on it, it would fry his little eggs. What do you say we try it?"

"Dimitri!" Nonna shot him a shocked and disapproving look, but she couldn't stop the corners of her mouth curling with amusement. "What an idea!" she said as she shook her head. "You're an incorrigible scamp!"

"What do you say we drive over to Chestermere Lake for a dip?"

"I'm afraid I can't. I have a load of laundry in the drier and I just put another in the washer. This is Monday." Nonna always did the washing on a Monday, even today on her birthday. "And when they're done I'll have to start supper."

"I'd take Marcus to the pool but you know I'm not allowed to go there."

I don't know why, but Uncle Dimitri can't go certain places, like pools or playgrounds and all the good stuff like that. It has something to do with the time he'd been captured. I think maybe it's because they don't want him to get captured again on account I heard someone say that's where kids gather. It sounds dumb anyway. I mean he was fourteen when he was captured and he's twenty-three now. He's not a kid. Anyway, a couple weeks ago there was some meeting or something about it and some guy, a doctor or something, said that it still had to be that way. I heard Mom and Dad talking about it and Dad said he wasn't surprised. Uncle Dimitri was really pissed off about it, and especially with the doctor.

Uncle Dimitri looked at his watch. "How about we go to Glenmore Park? It's closer and got shade trees, and there might be a cool breeze coming off the reservoir."

Nonna looked at her watch and frowned. "It would be nice, but by the time the washing's done we'd barely get there and we'd have to come back so I can start supper."

"I could take Marcus."

From the look on Nonna's face I could tell she was against it. "Your sis-," Nonna began and then stopped. "You know your sister doesn't want to trouble you. You need to rest. They left Marcus with me to look after."

I know what she was really going to say. She was going to say his sister, my mom, didn't want me to be by myself with Uncle Dimitri. I had heard her and Dad talking about it, and I heard her telling Nonna and Nonno she never wanted me to be alone with him. She said he made her nervous. I know my other aunts and uncles feel the same way. It's something to do with when he had been captured too. That was unfair. It wasn't his fault some guys had captured him and done bad stuff to him. I like him. He is funny, and he is fun to be with. Domi thinks so too. I like being with him, a lot. He gives me candy and sodas and stuff, but it's not just because he gives me stuff that other adults say I can't have that I like to be with him. He talks with me and likes the stuff I'm interested in, and he learns me stuff, fun stuff.

"Marcus is no trouble. And that's all I do all day every day all week, rest. I'm not an invalid." Uncle Dimitri was getting close to getting mad. I've never seen him ever get mad, but I've seen my dad, and that was how Uncle Dimitri was acting. Nonna's lips were pressed tight together and I knew Uncle Dimitri had upset her. He knew too. "Really, I know you worry about me, but it will be okay. We'll only be gone an hour or two. I'll have him back in plenty of time before supper. Nobody would even know we'd gone." I could tell from the look on her face that Nonna really wanted to let him do it and that she was about to give in. "My P.O. says being out in public and mixing with others is good for me. Being with Marcus is good for me. We enjoy being with each other. He's family."

"We do. We really do," I agreed, looking up at Nonna and giving her my hopeful look, the puppy dog look Mom says makes her melt and that I use to wrap Nonna and Nonno around my little finger. "Uncle Dimitri and me have lots of fun."

"Very well, but you have him back here in plenty of time before supper," Nonna said, and I know she meant before Nonno or my parents or anyone comes home and finds out. "And you listen to your Uncle Dimitri and do what he says," she warned me, and then paused. "No nonsense," she said, thinking twice about what she had just said and looking back at Uncle Dimitri firmly. "God has eyes and is everywhere, and little pitchers have big ears."

"He will be as my lamb and I as his shepherd, and I'll be an angel in God's eyes, pure and innocent. I promise. Thank you," he said, taking Nonna's hands in his. "I won't disappoint you."

Dimitri changed into clean clothes and I changed out of my swim suit, and he stuck an extra pair of clothes in his gym bag and told me to stick in a pair also. Mom always packs extra clothes when I go to visit, which isn't as often as I used to, and rarely on a Monday since that has been Nonna's washday since forever, but Mom had a doctor's appointment and had made one for my sister Andrea too and the person who was going to look after me cancelled and she hadn't been able to find anybody to look after me. I've been to Glenmore Park a few times with my mom and dad and I knew there was a spray park in the South Park and said I should have brought my swimsuit but Dimitri reminded me he couldn't go to spray parks, and he said not to look so sad because he was going to learn me something new, and that it would be sort of like a special spray park. So we went to the North Park instead and I was kinda disappointed but I did like learning stuff from Uncle Dimitri on account it was usually stuff adults keep secret from kids, which is another reason I like hanging out with him, and I was curious what it might be.

"Can we stop at a bathroom? I sortta gotta pee," I said as I reached down and pinched myself. "I shoulda gone before we left."

"The way you were drinking down the soda I figured you'd have to," Uncle Dimitri said with a smile. Actually, he'd snuck me an extra can when Nonna was busy with the washing. "That's perfect!"

I didn't understand how that was perfect but adults often say things that I don't understand, even Uncle Dimitri. Now I'd mentioned it though, I had to go really bad. I pinched myself harder. We pulled into Parking Lot D which is near the tennis courts. The lot and the courts were both empty, which was no surprise considering the temperature that afternoon was something like thirty and supposed to still get hotter later that afternoon. As we got out of the car, Uncle Dimitri said the place was empty just as he thought it would be and that was good, which I didn't understand either. We weren't there to play tennis, and it was too hot anyway. We walked along the paved path past the tennis courts and the sweat started pouring down my sides from my pits and I noticed Uncle Dimitri's tank top was started to turn a dark green from his sweat. The heat made me want to pee even worse and I pinched the tip of my dink harder, glad Uncle Dimitri didn't make a fuss about that like my mom and dad or Nonno and Nonna did. There was a guy standing under the shade of a big tree beside a bike and Uncle Dimitri headed straight for him. He was younger than Uncle Dimitri. He was wearing really tight blue jeans and a tight shirt that looked too small for him.

"Matthew?"

"Yeah," he said hesitantly, looking at Uncle Dimitri and then at me.

"A real hot day. Just right for a nice shower."

"Ah, yeah. Real hot."

"Glad you came. Wasn't sure if you would. A lot of guys say they will but never do."

"Yeah… That happens a lot."

"Let's go a bit into the bushes where we won't be seen," Uncle Dimitri said, nodding behind the guy. "There probably won't be anyone around just as I thought in this fucking heat, but no sense taking a chance."

The guy hesitated. "You… you didn't say anything about bringing a kid with you."

"That a problem?"

"Well, yeah. What… what I thought we were gonna do… ah… isn't for kids."

"Marcus is cool. He won't be a problem. Besides, I thought having him with us would, you know, make it hotter." Uncle Dimitri was walking away from the biking path and toward the bushes.

"Ah, you are the guy I talked to in the chat room Saturday night."

"Of course. South Glenmore Park, west of the tennis courts. Blue jeans and light-green tank top. Like your nylon shirt. Perfect. This is going to be great."

"Ah, maybe the kid could wait here," the guy said as we got to the edge of the grass, "while we, you know, do it."

"Hey, the kid's got a name, Marcus. Like I said, he's cool. He'll keep his mouth shut, won't you Marcus?"

"Yeah, sure, Uncle Dimitri," I said, reaching and pretending to zip my lips with my left hand. My right hand was busy pinching. I didn't dare let go.

"Besides, I told him I'd teach him all about an adult version of a spray park. We got the fucking perfect weather for it, and he's gotta take a fucking leak besides, don't you buddy?"

"Fuck yeah, fucking bad," I said. I knew Uncle Dimitri liked it when I used swear words, and I could see in his eyes he liked me doing it now. I could see sortta the same look in the guy's eyes too.

"We didn't say nothing about a kid doing stuff. Sorry, what we said, yeah, but not a kid. That's not my thing. Underage, sorry, that's too risky man." He started to back away.

"You're underage."

"I'm gonna be eighteen."

"In four months. Com'on, it'll be fucking hot. Won't it, Marcus?"

"Yeah, fucking hot," I agreed. If Uncle Dimitri said so, it would be. The guy's eyes flickered.

"Just think if you knew at his age what you know now. Look at all the fucking years you could have had having fun."

"Why do fucking adults always keep the fun stuff a fucking secret?" I asked, figuring Uncle Dimitri wanted me to use swear words. The guy's eyes flickered again, and this time so did his dink. In his tight jeans it was easy to see where it was, pointing straight up along his belly. Uncle Dimitri turned and rolled his eyes. I looked up at the guy with my innocent, please-let-me look.

"Just think of that little bladder about to burst. It would be a fucking shame to waste all that hot young piss."

"Yeah," I agreed. "I really gotta take a fucking piss fucking bad." I looked up at him as I danced from one foot to the other. The look was an act of course. The dance wasn't.

"His first time," Uncle Dimitri said. "Can't get any hotter."

"He's really your uncle?" I nodded. "You know what your uncle's getting you into?"

"Un-un, but it's gotta be a lot of fucking fun. Uncle Dimitri's already taught me how to, uh… have adult fun."

The guy gave in and we pushed through the bushes and behind a clump of trees. "Now, Marcus, this is what's going down. Matthew here is a piss queen." Uncle Dimitri looked up at the guy. "Pissing himself makes him horny."

"He pisses his pants?" I asked. This was a joke.

"Yeah."

"On purpose."

"For sure. Go ahead," he said to Matthew. "Do it. Just like we said we'd do it in the chat."

He stood there for a moment and I thought nothing was going to happen, and then he got this funny look on his face and I saw his blue jeans were starting to turn dark, first around the fly, and then spreading up his belly and then down his legs, the inside of both legs. He was really pissing his pants! He had to piss real bad, just like me, and he pissed for a long time, and you could smell it, which made me want to piss even worse. Then the thought that they might expect me to do the same thing next crossed my mind. Suddenly I didn't have to go so bad. There was a puddle forming around the guy's shoes. His socks had to be soaked, and his toes, with his piss! I don't know why, but thinking that made my dink twitch.

"That was awesome," Uncle Dimitri said as the guy finally finished. The guy looked relieved, and very pleased, because what Uncle Dimitri said, not because he'd just taken a leak. Adults are weird, but this was really weird. "You bring your stuff?"

The guy nodded. He walked over to where he'd leaned his bicycle, sort of bowlegged on account of having just pissed his pants, and opened the bag strapped on the back carrier. He stepped out of his shoes and pulled off his socks, which were soaked like I'd thought, and then unzipped his pants and pushed them down. He was wearing white briefs except they weren't white anymore and they were soaked too. He pushed them down, which was hard being wet, and stepped out of them. His dick was large and he had a hood. It wasn't as large as Uncle Dimitri's though, and it was still soft. To my surprise, he took out a diaper, just like a baby's but big enough for him, and he put it on. It was a real diaper with sticky strips, just like my sister Andrea wore when she was a baby.

Uncle Dimitri smiled and pulled out his big cock. "Now, Marcus, this part is called having a golden shower." He turned and stepped up to the guy and a moment later he began pissing, all over Matthew! Honest! He had to go bad too and his piss streamed up in the air, soaking the guy's shirt, turning it a dark blue and making it stick to his body. You could see the guy's nipples underneath. I remember Uncle Dimitri saying his shirt was nylon and that it was perfect. Uncle Dimitri stepped up closer to him and pulling his diaper open at the top he pissed right in his diaper, right down the front where Uncle Dimitri's piss soaked his hairs and his dick and his nuts, and when his diaper couldn't hold no more Uncle Dimitri's piss ran down the guy's legs. By then I had to piss so bad I could barely stand it and I couldn't stop from squirming.

Uncle Dimitri had the guy take off his soaked shirt and asked me if I thought I had to piss bad enough to piss as high as the guy's armpits. I said I sure the fuck did. So the guy raised his arms and I stood in front of him and took out my dick and pointed it up and began to piss. I had no trouble and my pee splashed under his right arm and then I directed my stream so it splashed under his left arm. Being able to direct your pee is one of the advantages of being a boy. I knew what we were doing was dirty and it was hot seeing my pee running down his sides and down his chest. He didn't have any chest hairs, not like Uncle Dimitri. I still had to go and Uncle Dimitri handed me a baby bottle with a disposable bag like my sister used when she was little and I filled it up easy, and I finished aiming at the guy's dick and his nuts.

Uncle Dimitri held up the plastic bag of my pee and commented on what a beautiful golden colour it was, and that it had to be real strong because you could really smell it and because the colour was so dark. Putting the nipple on the bottle, he gave it to the guy and the guy looked sort of embarrassed but it put it to his lips and began to suck on the nipple. He really did, and you could see he liked it! For one thing his dink began to swell!

Uncle Dimitri told me to suck the guy off so I knelt in front of him and took his dick and slipped my lips over it. It was real salty and had a strange taste, sort of fishy, from his pee I guessed, and my pee and Uncle Dimitri's I realized, which was sortta hot. It actually didn't taste as bad as you might think, and it made me drool. I swallowed my spit and began sucking and sliding my lips up and down over his bulb. He got stiff real fast, and so did I. I noticed out of the corner of my eye Uncle Dimitri's dick was sticking straight up too. He stepped up behind the guy and the guy tensed and grunted and I knew Uncle Dimitri was sticking his dick up the guy's asshole. They snorted and grunted and the guy wanted it and so did Uncle Dimitri and he knew all about how to do it so it didn't take that long for him to stick it up the guy's bum.

And so the guy stood there and drank my pee from the baby bottle as I knelt before him and sucked his dick and rubbed my dick and Uncle Dimitri rammed his dick in and out of the guy's ass. We were in the shade but it was super hot and the three of us began to sweat. I could feel it trickling down my sides and my armpits were damp. I looked up and saw the guy's sweat tricking down over his chest. He had his eyes closed and he was sucking on the nipple of the baby bottle like he was drinking apple juice or something. It was sortta the same colour, but it sure the fuck wasn't apple juice! That was really hot. He and Uncle Dimitri were really gasping for breath and finally the guy said he was going to cum. Uncle Dimitri said so was he and to go ahead and shoot his load down my throat. A few seconds later the underside of his dick throbbed and I'd learned what that meant and drew back my lips and he began to squirt. I swallowed it as fast as he came, and then Uncle Dimitri rammed his cock up the guy's ass and I knew he was squirting his stuff up the guy's rectum. As the two of them came, I swallowed the guy's cum and jerked myself real fast and my dick went numb and then the tip began to burn and I jerked and squirmed with my orgasm.

Uncle Dimitri and the guy slipped over to Uncle Dimitri's car, still buck naked, and brought back a cooler from his trunk. I was super hot and drank the first can of soda in like two gulps, and they did the same with their cans of beer. We all opened up a second can, and a third while they talked, mostly about piss and stuff and the chat room where they had met. Uncle Dimitri said that there weren't many around here interested in water sports-that is what they called doing things with piss-but he knew of places in other cities where they had clubs where guys could meet and do the sort of stuff we did, but not usually with someone as young as me. He asked Matthew if he was sorry he had gone ahead and done what they had intended on doing and Matthew said he'd never done anything with anyone as young as me but it had been hot and he was glad he had. Uncle Dimitri told the guy some of the places where he might find other guys, like the toilets at the Devonian Gardens where I thought people went just to see the flowers like Nonna and Nonno, and the toilets at Mount Royal College. Uncle Dimitri said most colleges were a good bet, college students being young and always horny. Uncle Dimitri let me try a sip of their beer but I didn't like it and Uncle Dimitri laughed and said it was an acquired taste, like drinking piss, and he bounced his cock in his hand and asked if I'd like to compare tastes. I said no thanks.

Well, Uncle Dimitri asked if we wanted to do any more and I did have to pee again and so did they. Uncle Dimitri opened up his gym bag and took out a diaper and handed it to me. I asked what I was supposed to do with it and he said to put it on. Well I didn't really want to but he said to trust him and to try it. I could see that Matthew wanted me to and he had done it so I took off my clothes and put it on. I had wanted to take a leak, but once I had the diaper on I didn't feel the need so bad, but then they gave me Matthew's diaper to smell and as soon as I did I felt my dick twitch. I concentrated and a moment later I began to go. It was sort of hot feeling my hot pee flowing up over my belly and around my dick and my nuts and soaking into the diaper and then run down my leg. Then the two of them stood on either side of me and gave me a golden shower. Being so much shorter than them they stood there and pissed on the top of my head and their piss ran down my face and off my chin and down over my chest and into my soaked diaper. Matthew pulled open the front and pissed right on my dick and balls and Uncle Dimitri pulled open the back and I felt his hot pee spreading over my bum cheeks and flowing down my bum crack. When they finished pissing they began to jerk and seeing them get hard I got hard too. They were both feeling very horny and it wasn't long before they started to spurt. They sprayed me with their cum, spattering my back and chest and face with creamy, slimy gobs.

Uncle Dimitri said if we went over to the reservoir we could wash off and cool down, but Matthew said he wanted to hang around the woods a bit. So I removed my diaper and Matthew took it and I put on my clothes which stuck to my body because of the pee and cum which soaked right into the cloth and we went back to the car. I said I was going to make it all stinky but Uncle Dimitri said that was okay. He's cool like that. Most adults would have a fit if you got their car all smelly.

Well, we drove over to Parking Lot L which was by the Blue Heron picnic area. We followed the paved path and then a gravel one to where it was blocked off by a bunch of bush that had been cut down and put across the path. Lots of people had walked around it to make another path in the weeds and grass and nearest bushes so we took it. A little further the bush thinned out and the path opened up to a grassy bank along the reservoir. There were a few people further away. As we got closer I was surprised that none of them were wearing anything, not clothes, not swim suits, nothing. Mostly there were older guys there, guys the age of my dad or Uncle John or even older, and just a few women, about the age of my mom or a bit younger. Uncle Dimitri said it was an unofficial nude beach, Calgary not having any official one. I don't know what the difference is. He said most of the guys there were gay, and the women were either lesbians or fag hags. He said the first were girls who would rather have sex with other girls than with men, and that the second were women who like to hang around gay men because they liked their attitudes.

Well, we jumped in the reservoir with our clothes on and splashed around to wash the piss and cum out of my clothes, and then we spread them out on the grass to dry in the sun and went back in the water and splashed around some more and swam and stuff, and then went to where we laid out our clothes and Uncle Dimitri told me to do some stretching exercises with him, like reaching up to the sky, and stretching one leg back and bending forward on the front leg and then reversing them, bending over and touching our toes, and bending backward as far as we could. We finally lay down on the grass and let the sun finish drying us. I couldn't help glancing about at everyone. Other than Uncle Dimitri I haven't seen adults naked, and never women. Quite a few were glancing at us too. I was the only kid there. A few guys near us got up and moved farther away. Some others seemed interested in us, especially two older men around Nonno's age laying on a blanket nearby, a short, balding, chubby guy with a big belly and a big butt, and a skinny guy with white hair and wrinkles and sort of sagging boobs. Finally they got up and walked over to us.

"It's a real hot day," the chubby guy said, talking to Uncle Dimitri.

"Yeah. Real hot."

"The water's refreshing."

"Yeah."

"Ah… you probably noticed. There's no kids around."

"Yeah."

"Kids aren't exactly welcome here."

"Why not?"

"You must have noticed clothing is optional."

"Yeah."

"Well, it's not exactly a place to bring children."

"The naked body is nothing to be ashamed of."

"No, of course not," the skinny guy said. Their bodies weren't exactly something to be proud of either, not like a model or athlete or nothing.

"I didn't see any signs saying this area was restricted to adults."

"Well, no. This isn't an official nudist area."

"It's just that people learn about it word by mouth."

"That's how I found out about it. But nobody said kids weren't allowed."

"Well, it's not that they're not allowed. It's just that nudism is not that widely accepted in these parts."

"Especially children."

"Besides, like I said, the place is unofficial. We like to operate it on the Q.T."

"Marcus is a cutey," Uncle Dimitri said. I put on my cute smile.

"He certainly is," the chubby guy said. "But the thing is, we like to keep things low key, you know. We don't want the neighbourhood to start complaining about us. Then they have to send in the cops, and well, the cops can close us down if they wish. Nobody wants that."

"Certainly not." Dimitri looked up at the two men and the two men looked at him, and then at each other.

The guy bent closer and spoke lower but Uncle Dimitri and I were lying side by side so I heard everything. "People come here for other reasons besides the water and sunbathing." He glanced over at the bushes behind us. "You know," he said, wagging his eyebrows. "Things you don't want children seeing."

"Seeing you and the boy here, people might get the wrong idea why you're here, you know. A lot of people frown on that sort of thing."

"More than frown," said the skinny guy.

"I'm sure that's not why you're here," the fat guy said all apologetic, "but like I said, people could get the wrong idea."

"That could end in serious trouble. For everyone."

"Well, we certainly wouldn't want that to happen. We'd better go, Lucas."

"We figured you didn't know," said the skinny guy with a smile.

"We appreciate your understanding."

"Yeah, a lot."

We gathered up our stuff and started heading back along the bank to where we'd come in. Uncle Dimitri began to curve away from the reservoir.

"I think the path is on the right," I said.

"It is. Just walk along beside me and look straight ahead. Don't look around, and don't look behind us."

Reaching the edge of the bushes, we found a bit of a narrow pathway and we continued walking along it, Uncle Dimitri guiding me in front of him. It wasn't really much of a path, but we followed it and sort of zigzagged back through the bushes the direction we had come from. Suddenly we came to a clump of bush and there were two guys, kissing and hugging. Uncle Dimitri turned me around and pushed me on ahead of him. A little further out of the corner of my eye I saw another guy leaning against a tree and another guy was squatting in front of him. I knew what he was doing! We walked further, where the bush was thicker, and Uncle Dimitri looked around as if looking for something, and then guided me over to an old dead tree that had started to fall over and was leaning over at an angle.

"Take off your clothes and climb up on this tree."

I did and I sat there. The sun was hot and I was starting to get bored when a guy pushed his way through the bushes, a big guy, naked, with a big beard and a big gut and a hairy body. He glanced up at me and then at Uncle Dimitri. He slowly shook his head. "That is one honey you have there."

"Looks like my honey has attracted a bear."

The guy bust out with a laugh, a loud, deep laugh that made his belly shake, like Santa's, except he had no clothes so you could really see it shake. So did something else! "It did that. Indeed it did," he said. He looked up at me again and shook his head again. When you two showed up at the reservoir I was sure it was by accident and you'd hightail it out of there as soon as you realized. Then when you stripped down and I feasted my eyes, I figured this was too good to be true and you had no idea what kind of place this really is. I was really sorry to see you pack up and leave when those two old queens talked to you, but I wasn't surprised. When I saw you duck into the bushes I couldn't believe it. When you didn't come back out and nobody got up, I just couldn't let this opportunity slip by.

"So what's your pleasure?"

"I could snuggle and cuddle and spoil this little honey til the sun comes up, and feed him whatever his little heart desires for breakfast."

"Well, maybe some day, but today I have to get him home in time for supper."

"Then how would the boy like a little appetizer to tide him over until then?" he asked, reaching down and bouncing his dick in his hand.

"I have a feeling that will turn out to be more than a little appetizer," Uncle Dimitri said. "What do you say, Luke? You want to give the man a blow job?"

"Fuck yeah." He seemed like a nice guy, and I figured it would be interested, and I figured that was what they wanted me to say.

The man bust out with another loud, deep laugh. "Sweet as a cherub and a gutter mouth. I love it. Don't wake me! This gotta be a dream."

I slid down off the tree and squatting down a little bit I reached out and picked up his dick. His didn't have a hood, just like Uncle Dimitri's. I slipped my lips over it and began to suck and it began to swell faster. His was long, and fat, almost as big as Uncle Dimitri's but not quite, and I sucked Uncle Dimitri's cock and he learned me how to breathe and stuff so I didn't have no trouble sucking it. As I sucked on it I slipped my lips up and down it and the guy sighed and moaned and kept saying how sweet it was. His dick wasn't sweet, but it didn't taste bad either. I know it sounds dirty, but having a guy's private part in your mouth is special and sortta exciting. We had hardly started when he asked Uncle Dimitri if I took it in my mouth or if he should pull it out. Uncle Dimitri said just tell me when he was going to cum and let me decide which I wanted to do.

"Oh God kid, I'm gonna cum," he gasped, sortta like he was in pain. I know Uncle Dimitri had said what he had to let me know I could choose. I eased my lips up the guy's shaft like Uncle Dimitri had learned me but I kept his dick in my mouth. I didn't mind catching a guy's stuff in my mouth and swallowing it. It was sort of hot actually, and I knew guys liked it that way. "Now!"

He squirted and I swallowed. It was sort of sweet and real thick and creamy. He sighed and moaned and gasped for breath and squirmed like I do, except of course I can't squirt. When he was done squirting, I squeezed my lips tight about his cock and drew them up his shaft and sucked the rest out. When he was done, he pulled his cock out and stepped back and sighed.

"Did you mean what you said earlier, about cuddling and spoiling him and giving him breakfast?"

"Every word of it."

"What do you say, Luke? Would you like that?"

"I like pancakes and bacon and strawberries and whipped cream, like Nonna makes."

"I'll get her recipe," the man promised.

"It won't be easy to get him away from his parents for an entire night, but we'll find a way. What is your email address?"

"Poppabear49@hotmail.com"

"It might take us a while."

"Will make it all the sweeter. Take what time you need. I'll treat him well, I promise."

As the guy headed back through the bush Uncle Dimitri looked at his watch. "Did you like that?"

"Yeah, but I didn't do it so good. He cummed fast. I didn't get a chance to slow him like you learned me."

"I think he liked it just fine. Climb back up in that tree and we'll see if we attract anyone else." I did and while we waited I pretended I was a bear cub, and then Peter Pan keeping an eye out for pirates. Uncle Dimitri looked at his watch again. "Com'on," he muttered, "we don't have all afternoon and it's hot as fuck out here." He looked around. "There were at least another three giving you a look over. What's taking them so long?"

It was getting boring, and it was hot, fucking hot. "I see a guy," I whispered finally. From where I was sitting I could see down through the leaves better than Uncle Dimitri could see.

The guy spotted me and turned in our direction. He stepped out of the bushes slowly and looked around as he stepped toward us. "Ah, hi," he said, flashing us a smile.

"Hello," Uncle Dimitri said as he nodded and looked around too. "You looking for a place for a solitary wank, or you meeting someone?"

"Actually," the guy said with a laugh as he continued to glance around, "I was hoping to find you." It was a nervous laugh and he acted uncomfortable, like you see guys acting like they are nervous or scared in tv shows, except this wasn't tv. He looked about my dad's age and about my dad's size except it looked like his chest and arms were more muscle. He was naked of course and looked sortta funny, his butt and belly real pink and the rest of his body tanned, and especially his chest and arms. He didn't have as much hair on his arms and legs and chest as my dad, nor the side of his head, and his dick was smaller but he had a hood just like my dad and me. I know that cuz I've seen my dad in the change room when we go swimming.

"Well, you've succeeded."

"Ah, yeah," he said, laughing again. "I… ah… haven't seen you around here before."

"My second time. Luke's first. You come here often?"

"Not really." He paused as he thought what to say next. "The guys here are usually older than what I like."

"Your wife know you like guys?" The guy glanced at his left hand. "Your fingers are darkly tanned except for that pink band around the third on the left. That's the finger where guys wear their wedding ring. From your hands you must work outside a lot."

"Yeah. You're observant."

"Have to be." Uncle Dimitri glanced up at me and then back at the guy. "A guy can't afford to take risks, you know."

"Yeah. It was a risk bringing him here," he observed, glancing at me. Uncle Dimitri didn't say nothin'. "My wife doesn't know. And I'm a structural steel erector. You know, we're the guys who join up the steel members that form the framework for high rises and such."

"You got kids?"

"Yeah. Three boys."

"Sweet. You mess with them?"

"God no! They're my sons."

"Think about it?"

"Well, yeah, everybody thinks. More like wonders actually. They're way too young anyway."

"How old?"

"Three, five and eight."

"You think eight is too young to mess with guys, Luke?"

"Fuck no. I do it, and I'm seven."

The guy was shocked when I swore and made a face like he disapproved, but I think his cock twitched and he had that look in his eyes that said they liked it even if his mouth didn't.

"What about three?"

"Wish I'd been that fucking young when you learned me." The guy glanced at me again. This time his cock definitely twitched.

"Luke's been sucking cock now for three months."

"It's hard to find teens who are willing to mess around, never mind preteens, and certainly not boys his age."

"All the more reason to start them young. You know the old saying, if not before eight, too late," Uncle Dimitri said. "That's why we're here, to expand his education and his experience." The guy looked at me and you could tell he was itching to do something to expand my education and experience. "Go ahead, wrap your lips about that little noodle and tell me if it isn't the tastiest thing you've ever had in your mouth."

He wanted to, but he wasn't sure. I looked down at him and gave him my sweet, innocent look like when I wanted a cookie. He stepped forward and bent his head and took my dink in his mouth and sucked on it. It got hard real fast. He bobbed his head, sliding his lips up and down my stiff dink as he sucked so he had to have done this before to some guy. My dick throbbed and the knob started to itch. It sounds dirty, but getting your cock sucked feels really great. It made me squirm and I began to breathe harder. His dick was stiff and sticking straight up in the air and jerking and so I know he was enjoying sucking me. Uncle Dimitri laughed and said he must be a good structural steel erector because he'd just erected two hard-as-steel members. I didn't get it.

Anyway that was really cool having an adult my father's age sucking on my dick, and knowing he had three boys, one of them a year older than me. I wondered what they would think if they knew their dad sucked dick, that at that moment he was in the bushes sucking the dick of a seven-year-old boy. That was really hot and thinking about it made my dick go all numb and the knob itched like I had to piss and all of a sudden my body began jerking and it felt like my dickhead was being stabbed with pins and I threw back my head and groaned and gasped for breath.

The guy was all flushed and he looked at me in surprise as he stepped back like he'd never seen a guy have an orgasm before. His dick was still hard and pointing in the air and there was a clear bubble of what Uncle Dimitri called pre-cum at the opening. I slid down the tree and taking his stiff cock in my hand I stuck out my tongue and licked up the bubble. It was sweet and another bubble immediately replaced it and I licked it up too. The guy quivered and moaned and muttered, something what I thought was "oh fucking Jesus," which I thought wasn't a very nice word to use when calling God's son, and I thought it was a strange time to pray anyway standing there naked with a kid grasping your hardon.

Still holding his dick, I pulled his hood all the way back and I swirled my tongue around the bulb like it was an ice cream cone like I'd seen a guy do in a video Uncle Dimitri showed me and I thought would be pretty cool and he jerked like I'd stabbed his bum with a needle and more pre-cum oozed out the opening. Of course I licked it up. As I ran my tongue along the rim of his bulb he quivered and gasped for breath and he threw back his head and began saying "Oh God, oh God" over and over. I figured he had to be real religious and I knew Nonna would like it that I had made a guy like that happy. The guy was really panting and I slipped my lips back over his knob and closed my mouth real tight, which was something Uncle Dimitri had told me would stop a guy from coming and make his pleasure last longer.

"Oh God, oh God, oh fuck yes," he gasped and groaned. It was sortta weird hearing a guy saying God and fuck in the same sentence, and sort of hot. I began sucking again and he gulped for breath and his stiff cock was hot and throbbing like mad. "I'm going to come. God I'm going to fucking shoot!" he gasped. He did, over and over. His cum was sort of watery and he came so fast and so much I couldn't keep up swallowing it and some oozed out the corners of my mouth and hung like a drop of drool off my chin. When he stopped squirting, I sucked and worked my lips up and down his shaft to suck out what was left in his cock and balls. Uncle Dimitri said we could meet again if he wanted to, and he said he sure did and he told Uncle Dimitri his email address. Uncle Dimitri said we had to hustle so I got dressed fast and we hurried back to the car. When we got back to Nonna's it was twenty after four. Nonna looked pleased, and very relieved.

"Here we are," Uncle Dimitri said, "as promised. And with plenty of time to wash up before supper."

"Did you have a good time with your Uncle Dimitri?"

"Fu-ahhh… sure," I said. I glanced at Uncle Dimitri and he winked and smiled. He knew what I almost said! "But it's real hot out. Can I have a glass of milk, please, with chocolate?"

"May I," corrected Nonna.

"May I, please?"

"Of course. Your Uncle Dimitri can get it, and have one himself if he wants." "And a slice of birthday cake, please?" Uncle Dimitri asked. He looked up at Nonna with that look I use but on him it looked goofy.

"A thin slice, for each of you," Nonna said with a laugh.

Uncle Dimitri and I smiled at each other and he headed for the fridge. It had been a fucking great afternoon.

NEXT PART