Chapter 18
A Family Affair – part 1 of 2

Ed, a married structural steel erector who met Dimitri and his nephew Marcus at a nude beach (see chapter 10) receives a surprise visit the weekend his wife wins a surprise weekend vacation at a spa.  Characters:  Ed 32, sons Eddie, Patrick and Willie, Dimitri 23, Justin 14, and Domi 8.  Told by Ed.
Codes: b/b, t/b. m/b, incest.

Note: Two of the sons are under the age of seven.  Some readers may find this offensive.

Unbuttoning the younger boy's shirt and slipping it over his shoulders and off, the older boy crouched and slipped his arms about him and the two boys kissed. The sight of the two boys closing their eyes and locking lips, the older I discovered later being seven years and nine months of age, and the younger being half his age, three years and ten months, some would consider cute and others would find obscene. Myself, it caused my cock to twitch with arousal. The older boy unbuckled the younger boy's belt and unbuttoned the top button of his shorts snd allowed them to drop to his ankles before standing upright again. The younger boy had to reach above his head to unbutton the top of the other boy's shirt, and having just learned how to dress and undress himself on his own, he struggled with the older boy's buckle and pressed his tongue out between his lips as he concentrated on his button and zipper. The older boy was also wearing shorts and they too dropped to his ankles.

The older boy crouched down once more and the two kissed again, and with their lips still locked, the older boy slipped his hands under the elastic band of the younger boy's Winnie the Pooh jockey briefs and hooking his thumbs over the band, he eased the back of the little boy's briefs over his hips and hooked the elastic band under his buttocks. His smooth, compact buttocks contrasted sharply with the dark tan of his slender back and thin legs, and with the dark tan of the older boy's hands as they now gently caressed the three-year-old's backside and squeezed his firm cheeks. The older boy slipped his middle finger between the younger boy's legs and slowly drew it up along the boy's ass crack, pausing at his butthole to massage the little pucker. My dick twitched with arousal as I watched.

The older boy's tight, pale blue Fruit-of-the-loom briefs were tented out and he took the younger boy's hand and cupped the boy's fingers about the bulge. He kissed the younger boy again as he continued to massage the boy's anus with the tip of his finger, and with the boy still clutching the bulge in his briefs, he slid his fingers back under the elastic band of the boy's underwear and gradually eased his briefs down off his hips, revealing his smooth pubes and tiny, dangling noodle and little marbles. Taking the child's hands, the older boy guided them to the elastic band of his Fruit of the Loom briefs and I watched as my three-year-old son slipped his fingers under the waist band and slowly drew the older boy's briefs down. The boy's penis popped up, stiff as a nail, about as long and as thick as my thumb. My son stared at it, his face one of surprise and curiosity.

It had all begun two hours earlier when the young man I had met at the Glenmore Park unofficial nudist beach and cruise area had shown up at my door with two young boys, the youngest, the one I'd just watched expose my son, looking so much like the boy he had with him at Glenmore that at first I'd thought it was the same boy. Actually, I guess that was when it had all really begun, the day he'd shown up at Glenmore beach with the young boy, and then had disappeared with him into the bushes. That was three months ago, in early July, three days after my oldest son's birthday. Needless to say, after seeing the young boy naked and limbering up on the beach, poses orchestrated to draw attention to the youth's lithe body, I couldn't resist, and I headed into the bush in search of them, curious if he was going to do anything with the boy, or if any of the other men who'd seen him and had disappeared into the bushes had gone to do something with the boy. To be honest, I was hoping I might. I did. I sucked off the young boy, whom I learned was seven, until he orgasmed. I had no idea a boy that young could have an orgasm. And then the boy had sucked me off there in the bushes, and drank my cum. It was the hottest thing I'd ever done. And the dumbest. A guy could go to prison for doing what we'd done. He could be beaten and killed.

Anyway, I'd done it, and for the next three months I'd thought about it, about how good it had been, and I had jerked off several dozen times reliving the experience in my mind, but for the past three months I'd also thought about what a risk I'd taken. The cops tend to take a hands-off approach to the nudist beach and cruise area at Glenmore as long as we're discrete, and as long as we're discrete those in the nearby neighbourhoods ignore us and don't notify the cops. Taking a seven-year-old boy to a nudist beach and a gay cruise area is not being discrete. A couple of the older nudists and grey gays had warned him that day, and I never saw him there again, and I did go back specifically looking for him. I couldn't help it. That ten minutes with the kid was the hottest thing I'd ever done, hotter than I'd ever imagined it would be like to have sex with a child.

It was my first time with a child that young, but I'd thought about dong it with prepubescent boys long before that. I'd thought about it way back when I was a teen and when I was a young man before I got married and the idea had always turned me on. As a teenager and as an adult, I read gay stories about adults and teens and preteens, and in the beginning there were some real explicit and hot stories before the prudes in our society began getting the sites shut down. There were sites where you could find naked pictures of boys, and of boys having sex, too, but most of those are driven underground now and you can get heavy jail time if you're caught just accessing them. I'd never acted on any of my fantasies, at first because I never had the opportunity, and later because of my fear of getting caught.

The erotic stories and the pictures and videos gave me enough satisfaction that I was satisfied with just viewing, and when the sources of pictures and videos dried up, the stories gave me enough relief that I never acted on my lust. I got married, had three boys, and I have a satisfying sex life with my wife, but I missed the old rush of my youth when sexual conquest was part of the game and sex was still something rare and mysterious. I began spending more and more time at the nudist beach and cruise area at Glenmore and the adjacent cruise area near the tennis courts in the North Park, mostly looking for younger guys, and especially teens and preteens, and especially lately now that even the hardcore stories are hard to find. In fact if they weren't so difficult to find, I quite likely would never have taken a chance that day in the Park, but I was feeling extra horny it being just after Eddie's eighth birthday party and had no easy way to satisfy my urges.

Eddie's birthday was July 7, a blistering hot day, and we'd set up the sprinkler and water slide in the backyard and the plastic pool. He had four of his buddies over, and seeing them and my three boys in just their swim suits, and their suits soaked and revealing the outline of their butts and cold peckers, had gotten my imagination soaring. So, seeing this guy and his naked, seven-year-old nephew, I could not resist the temptation. I even was so stupid as to give him my email address. Two weeks later the guy contacted me, and I agreed to a phone sex call that night, something I'd never done before. The guy himself was young, almost ten years my junior, and he had a way with words. He had me so hot with his dirty talk and talk of sex with boys that night he almost had me convinced to go upstairs and assault my sons in their sleep. That was the last I heard from him, which at first had disappointed me, and then I had felt relieved when calm and rational thought replaced the hormones. Two and a half months passed. I forgot about him.

Then two weeks ago my wife received an email saying she had won an all-expenses-paid weekend get-a-way at a spa in the resort town of Canmore an hour west of Calgary. We thought it was a scam but with the hot weather we'd been looking at pools and checking out the web for weekends away in the mountains and of course leaving contact information, and a phone call to the number in the email confirmed the win. I certainly had not connected the win with my indiscretion in the park three months earlier and when the day came and she left that was the farthest thing from my mind. She left the Friday of the Thanksgiving long weekend at three pm and Dimitri arrived at the door with the two boys at five, with a duffle bag, shopping bags and a cooler filled with smokies, hamburgers, sodas and beer. How he had found my address I have no idea, but I should not have been surprised. The boys were downstairs in the family room with their game boys and tablets.

"Hey, Ed! It has been a while. Thought it was high time we acted on those fantasies of yours."

"I … ahhh …"

He pushed his way through the door and the two boys followed. "Where are those hot sons of yours? My balls are itching to finally meet them."

"I, ah, wasn't expecting you," I said as my adrenaline began flowing and panic began to set in. Oh God, I was not ready for this! "I, ah-."

"No problem. I brought enough food and fixings and munchies to feed an army, or a troupe of boys. You hungry?"

"I, ah–."

"Hungry for smokies and hamburgers, that is. I know you're hungry for chicken, you horny chicken hawk," he said, punching my arm. The older of the two boys with him, a boy in his early teens, chuckled. "So com'on, call your boys and introduce them."

"Really, this is a surprise. You should have called first. I … I'm really not prepared–."

"Ed, my man, you'll never be prepared. Let's be honest. Your boys will be men and all your dick will be good for is to use as a piss hose before you screw up the courage to act, and by then it will be too late. We're here to help you fulfil your fantasies," he said, glancing at the two boys beside him.

"Really, the boys know nothing about … well … You know.. I need time to prepare them."

"No time like the present," he said. "Hey boys!" he shouted. "Get your sweet asses up here, you've got company! Boys!"

The boys came up the stairs, Eddie in the lead, Willie at the end, and looked curiously at our guests, and at me.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm! What gorgeous, tender morsels you are indeed!" Dimitri said, eying my three boys hungrily and with a look in his eyes that frightened me. "Didn't I tell you I had a sweet treat waiting for you this weekend?" he asked the two boys with him, who were eying my three boys lasciviously also, even the seven-year-old. "You boys like smokies and burgers?" he asked, holding up the shopping bags. My three sons glanced at each other and cautiously nodded. "All right! Lead us to your barbecue, Ed my man."

I did so, my mind racing. I had to get out of this! Dimitri fired up the barbecue and told the boys to help themselves to the soda, Root Beer, Pepsi, and Coke. "Get Ed and me a beer," he said to the older of the two boys with him. "And help yourself to one too if you want." The boy opened two cans and handed one to me and the other to Dimitri, and opened a third for himself. "So who wants burgers and who wants smokies?" The boys raised their hands accordingly.

"I know you prefer chicken, Ed," he said with a leer. "But that will come later. Actually, we'll all have some chicken later," he said and the younger boy with him giggled. "But let's start with introductions."

My three sons introduced themselves, and he commented on each as they did. He observed how handsome Eddie looked and that he had my nose and chin, and observed that we'd see if he inherited a big dick from me besides later on. Eddie's eyes popped wide and he shot a glance at me in shock at such coarseness, and in surprise that I didn't reprimand the man. Patrick giggled. He observed how beautiful Patrick was and commented on his gorgeous hair and eyes, saying he must have gotten them from his mother, which he did, and that he couldn't wait to see if he tasted as good as he looked, which puzzled all three of my boys but which caused the youngest boy with him to giggle knowingly. Willie he observed was cute as a button and that introducing him to the facts of life would be like the cherry on the top of a sundae, and he commented that whichever one of us got the privilege of cracking his cherry he would never forget this day. My sons had no idea what he meant, but from the look in the eyes of the two boys with him, they evidently did, even the youngest.

The two boys with him then introduced themselves. The oldest, who Dimitri called "my man", said his name was Justin and that he was in grade ten and that everything he knew he'd learned from Dimitri, to whom he was grateful, and that he was really looking forward to helping me realize my dreams. What Dimitri had told him about me I had no idea but the suggestive way he said it and the way he looked at my boys and at me made me blush with embarrassment. The younger boy's name was Domi and he said he was Dimitri's nephew, and that he was really looking forward to teaching my sons "stuff" his uncle had "learned" him and to learning how to be a boylover just like his uncle. My boys looked at him blankly, not having a clue what he was thinking he was going to "learn" them nor what a boylover was. Like I said, when Dimitri had first arrived at the door with him I had thought he was the boy I had met at Glenmore Park they were so much alike. On closer examination, I realized he was slightly slimmer and a fraction shorter, and had a more impish look in his eyes, but he otherwise had the same handsome, dark looks, thick, black hair, and smooth, olive skin as the other boy, and like his uncle. You could see there was a definite family connection.

"And my name is Dimitri," his uncle said. "And like Domi said, I'm a boy lover. You know what that means?"

My sons glanced at each other. "That you like boys?" tentatively asked Willie, the youngest but least shy of my boys..

"Exactly. And the cutie with the puppy dog eyes wins a Smokie," he said, taking one off the grill and putting it on a bun and handing it to him. Willie giggled and glanced at his brothers triumphantly.

"And anyone else know what a boylover loves to do?" Eddie glanced down at the ground and shuffled his feet. "You look like you know the answer," prompted Dimitri.

"He … ah …likes to … ah … do stuff … with boys," he said much to my surprise, addressing the ground. I had never used the word boylover or talked to him about that sort of thing.

"What sort of stuff?"

"Ah … like … touch their pee-ers," he said in barely a whisper, still looking at the ground and his ears turning red. I had no idea who had told him that. I'm sure his mother hadn't, not without telling me, and he was too young to have learned it in school. He had to have heard it from an older boy on the playground.

"And you win a cheese burger. Your dad said you were sharp as a whip," Dimitri said. Eddie looked up with a sheepish smile and a hint of pride and glanced at me uncertainly. "And that he'd love to touch your pee-er." Eddie couldn't hide his surprise any more than I could I hide my guilt and humiliation. His eyes immediately dropped and he turned a bright red as I also dropped mine and felt my cheeks burning. My God I had to stop this. I had to stop it now.

"And you," Dimitri said, looking at Patrick. "Why do boylovers like to touch little boy's pee-ers?"

"I don't know," he said, looking up at Dimitri apprehensively and glancing at his older brother for help. He was only five years old. Five years and four months. He'd just started kindergarten for heaven's sake! He had no idea what his brothers were talking about, but he could tell his older brother was uncomfortable and I was even more so.

"And that's why we're here, to help you find out," Dimitri said. "Come get your burger. It is going to be a fucking delight teaching you three all about boy love." He looked hungrily at my three sons, who had glanced in surprise at each other with his use of the dirtiest word there was, and then at me, expecting me to reprimand the man. "By the time your mother gets back home the three of you will know everything there is to know about boy love and how you can really please your daddy, please him even better than your mommy can, and how to please each other too. And," he added, looking at Patrick, "you'll know why boylovers like to touch little boys' pee-ers, and why little boys like them to do so."

He handed Justin a smokie and Domi and I cheese burgers and fixed a smokie with all the trimmings for himself and we all fell silent as we began to eat, I am sure my boys thinking about the conversation they'd just had, and me trying to find a way to put the brakes on what was happening. The five boys talked about the things they like to do, about school and their new teachers, about sports, their summer, typical stuff boys their age talk about. The boys had seconds and thirds and helped themselves to handfuls of potato chips and a second can of soda, something they were not normally allowed. The older boy, who I learned was going to be fifteen in another month, had a second can of beer. I got a second burger and whispered to Dimitri that I appreciated what he was doing, but I wasn't comfortable moving so fast, and that I thought we'd best cool things for now until I had a chance to talk to my boys and prepare them.

He gave me that dead-eye look, the look where he is looking at you but his mind is far away and he isn't seeing you at all and you wonder if he's even heard you. ."Don't you worry about a thing, Ed," he said, maintaining that look and his voice sounding rote and distant. "I know what I'm doing. I've been introducing boys to boy love for years now." He got up and got himself another smokie and encouraged the boys to have another soda and more chips. He brought out his cell phone and took everyone's picture. Exceeding their quota of soda was the least of my worries. I tried desperately to think of a way out of my dilemma.

"If everyone's finished eating, let's go inside," he announced

As we headed inside, I again told him that his arrival was a surprise, and that my boys really weren't ready for this, and I pleaded for him to stop. He said it was too late now, and that we had to address my boys' questions and worries they were going to have after what they were about to see and hear about their dad, and that if we didn't address those questions and fears they'd lay awake nights thinking about it and if we didn't address them now they'd turn to others who would, and those others wouldn't have my sons' interests first in mind as we did. Arriving at the family room, he had me and my sons pose for a family picture, a "before and after picture" he called it, and then he set the timer for a picture with all of us in it.

"So, Ed, you want to tell your boys where we met, or do you want me to?" he asked as he took the chair my wife usually takes and as I sat down in my usual chair, his two boys sitting on the sofa, and my boys sprawling out on the floor as they usually did.

"I … ah … well, we met at Glenmore Park."

"Your dad ever take you to Glenmore Park?" My boys shook their heads in the negative. "Well, your dad and I met at the nudist beach in the northwest corner. Do you know what a nudist is?" Again the boys shook their heads in the negative. "Nudists like to go around with no clothes on. At Glenmore Park adults like to go swimming and to lay in the sun buck naked." The boys glanced at each other with a slight grin at learning this very adult concept, and as they realized the implication, they glanced over at me in surprise and puzzlement. "It is also where men go to meet other men and go in the pushes and play with each other's pee-ers." The boys looked at each other with even wider grins at this revelation, and at me even more curiously, and now with a hint of apprehension. "Bet you didn't know your daddy likes to play with other men's pee-ers and have them play with his did you?" The boys shook their heads in the negative once more, their eyes focussed on Dimitri, rapt with attention at this shocking revelation. "He especially likes to do it with young men, like teenagers and preteens. That's where he met Domi's cousin, Marcus. Marcus is a month older than Domi. Domi is seven years and nine months old now." Getting up and stepping over to his duffle bag, he took out an envelop. "Here are some pictures of Marcus doing some limbering up exercises at Glenmore."

How he'd manage to take pictures of the boy without anyone else noticing I don't know. I certainly didn't see him. Of course my attention was on the boy, not him, and I suspect that was so for all the others too, and one can be discrete using a cell phone. If the men on the beach had noticed they certainly would have stopped him, and demanded he delete any incriminating photos. He handed the pictures to the boys and as the boys passed them around their eyes grew wider. "And here is your dad and Marcus getting to know each other," Dimitri continued, passing around another set of photos. That was impossible. The camera had to have been hidden somewhere. He certainly hadn't taken them openly. They showed the boy Marcus laying naked on the trunk of the dead tree, me sucking his dink, and him kneeling on the ground and sucking my stiff cock. Good God! I tried to think how I was going to explain the pictures but I was too shocked and embarrassed to think straight. Then he took a recorder out of his backpack and turned it on. A phone rang.

"Hello." It was my voice, shaky, uncertain.

"Hi Ed, my man. Ready for some hot fucking man-to-man phone sex?" Oh God no!

"I'm not sure. I've never done this before."

"This is your first time? That's fucking cool. I love doing it with guys for their first time. Of course so do you, don't you, Ed? Have you gotten in the pants of those sons of yours yet?"

"No. Not yet." I'd said 'not yet' for his benefit, to make it sound like there was still a possibility, but listening to the conversation now that isn't how it sounded.

"I bet it's giving you blue balls not getting any action. When's the big day going to be?"

"I don't know. Someday." I was being evasive, but that isn't how it had to sound to my boys.

"You been thinking of Marcus?"

"Oh yeah. A lot. That was an awesome afternoon." That was the truth.

"Bet you've been doing a lot of jacking off thinking about him and wishing he was there with you."

"Yeah." That was the truth too.

"You got your dick out of your pants right now?"

"No."

"Com'on pull it out. Hold the phone down by your crotch so I can hear you pulling down your fly and taking your dink out." I was surprised how well the phone had picked up the sound, and how erotic it sounded.

"Ah, I think the boys have heard enough," I said. I'd had no idea he'd taped our phone call, but I should have known. God, if my sons heard what was coming up!

"Com'on, let them hear a little more. We're not at the good part yet," he replied, pausing the tape. "So, you liked your day at Glenmore?" he asked on the recording as he started it playing again.

"You better believe it. A lot." God, did my voice really sound that husky?

"Have you found any teens or preteens to mess around with since that afternoon?"

"Sadly no."

"You been looking?"

"Oh yes. Almost every weekend, even a couple evenings during the week. Saw a few hot looking boys at the skate park yesterday." Good God, what were my sons thinking! I couldn't look at them.

"But no action?"

"No. You know how it is. It's difficult to find teens and boys who are interested and willing."

"You connect with any of the men at Glenmore since we met?"

"No. Like I told you then, most of the men there are an older crowd, a lot older than what I like."

"So, you've just been sitting at home and jacking yourself off while you fantasize about messing around with your boys?"

"That's about it." Oh good God! I felt so small, and so perverted. Even at the time we were talking I felt uncomfortable, though the conversation was getting me hotter.

"Well, lets get one off together. I got my dick in hand. You tell me what you'd like me to do and I'll pretend I'm one of your boys."

Thank heavens Dimitri shut off the recording at that point. My boys had to be shocked enough as it was. If they heard what I'd said next I wouldn't blame them if they leaped up and ran for the door as fast as they could. I sat there staring at the painting on the wall, having no idea what to say, or what to do. Dimitri did. "Any of you boys know what jacking off means?" Dimitri asked, interrupting my thoughts. Sweet Jesus, if I could only get him to slow down! Willie and Patrick shook their heads. Eddie stared at the carpet. "Eddie?"

"It's a word that means masturbation. A dirty word," he said as he studied the carpet as if he'd just now discovered the design. How did he know that? He had turned eight only three months ago.

"How often do you do it?"

"I've never done it," he told the carpet.

"Never?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I … I really don't know much about it."

"Ed, Ed, Ed!" Dimitri said, shaking his head. "How have you been able to keep your pecker in your pants with such sweet temptation! You must go to bed with your balls aching every fucking night. You boys love your dad?" Of course my sons nodded. "You want to make him feel good, really good?" Uncertain and suspicious what he meant, they hesitated and glanced at each other and then at me and again they slowly nodded. "Then let's get started. Domi, why don't you begin, at the beginning. Stand up and explain to everyone what foreplay is, and … Willie, why don't you join him so Domi can demonstrate with you for everyone." I suspected that Dimitri's pause was for dramatics, and that he had decided on Domi, and on Willie, long ago, probably even before he'd shown up at our door. This had all been thought out ahead of time. Domi stood and Willie got up and stood beside him, which brings us to the present.

As Willie stared at Domi's stiff penis, out of the corner of my eye, I saw my eldest, Eddie, who as I said had celebrated his eighth birthday three months ago, take his eyes off the two boys and glance at me confused and frightened. He had to be wondering why his dad wasn't doing anything, and wondering if what he'd been told about his dad this evening was true, and he had to be bewildered and shocked by the pictures he'd just seen and the phone conversation he'd just heard. I was at a loss what to say and to do. Dimitri had noticed the eye contact also. Although at times it seems as if he is totally distracted and disinterested, I knew by then that nothing escapes his notice.

"Eddie, you said you've never jacked off before, right?" He nodded. "Because you don't know much about it." He nodded again.

"Well, this is your lucky day." Dimitri turned to me. "Ed, stand up if you will." I hesitated. I had to stop this, now. "Who better to teach a boy all about masturbation than his own father? Now come over here and take down your daddy's trousers and underwear like you saw Domi do to your little brother."

Good God! I had to put an end to this! I had to now. But if I did insist that he stop, then what? Would Dimitri take things into his own hands? That was a misfortunate use of words, but I knew he would. Here and now regardless what I said. To object to what he was doing would be useless. He'd ignore me, and in a confrontation with him he would probably win, especially if things got physical, and that would frighten the boys and I would loose face in front of them besides and that would make things even worse. At least by acting calm and trying to be cooperative I could have some say in what was happening.

I slowly stood up, which encouraged Eddie to get up off the floor and to approach me. He looked up at me and I nodded once, almost unperceivable. Being a hundred and twenty-seven centimetres, the top of his head came just below my nipples. All eyes turned to him and me as the boy looked down and slowly and hesitantly reached over and undid my belt, which took a bit of effort in that he'd never unbuckled someone else's belt before. Unsnapping my jeans and pulling down my fly, he lowered my jeans to mid-thigh, and then reaching over and grabbing the sides of my boxer shorts with both hands, he slowly pulled them down to my jeans. Having been watching Willie and Domi, I was aroused but thankfully not yet erect.

"Okay, back to you and Willie, Domi," Dimitri directed from his chair. "Fiddle with Willie's dink, Domi, and when you've seen what to do, you fiddle with Domi's, Willie."

I stood there beside my oldest son with my boxers and jeans at half mast as we watched the seven-year-old we'd only met two hours ago reach down and slip his fingers about my three-year-old son's penis and tug on it, and roll it between his first two fingers and his thumb, and gently pull back his skin. My three sons, like myself, were uncircumcised. Slowly Willie's little penis began to swell.

"When a guy jacks off, or jacks off someone else, the first step is to fiddle with his dick and get it stiff," Dimitri explained. "Go ahead and reach over and play with your daddy's dick just like Domi is doing to your kid brother, and slip your fingers under it and bounce it."

Eddie looked up at me and I gave him an unperceivable nod. Dimitri was right. Better he learn about something like this from his father than from some stranger out to seduce the boy, or some older boy who only had half the facts straight, or some teacher at school who would add his own biases and beliefs. Eddie reached out slowly and my dick began to swell before he even touched it, which of course Dimitri noticed and observed how eager my dick was to be touched by my son that it was reaching out to meet his fingers. That caused everyone to smile, at least a little. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. As the boy wrapped his fingers about my flaccid flesh and tugged on it, and then slowly pulled back my skin, knowing how sensitive the glans is from his own experience, my dick resumed swelling. Thank heavens my dick was clean under my foreskin. At the same time, Willie had reached up and begun to play with Domi's dick, which was already stiff.

"Now then, everyone saw how Domi was fingering Willie's asshole in his underwear?" continued Dimitri, playing the role of ringmaster. From the looks on their faces, some had noticed, some had not. "You boys step out of your pants and underwear and then you bend over and put your hands on the coffee table, Willie, and Domi, massage his asshole again, and after you've lubed it with spit, you know what to do."

The boys stepped out of their shorts and underwear and Willie bent over and placed his hands on the coffee table as he'd been instructed, which raised his buttocks in the air. Spreading Willie's legs, Domi stood behind him and massaged the child's anus with the tip of his pointer finger, and then bringing his finger to his mouth, he drooled on it and massaged Willie's anus once more, spreading his spit over it. He repeated it several times before slowly inserting the tip of his finger into Willie's anus and working his spit into it. Between watching the two boys and having my dick fiddled with by my son, I grew erect. Dimitri stopped Eddie and had him watch Domi and his youngest brother.

Domi stepped up behind him, and placing the tip of his little erection against the boy's spit-lubed hole, he grasped his hips and slowly eased forward. As I said, his dink was short and slender, about the size of my thumb, and it easily entered the younger boy's hole. Domi continued to push forward and I stood there and watched until he had shoved his dick up my little boy's ass as far as it could go. My God, seven years and nine months old, and he had his stiff, little cocklet up another boy's rectum, my three-year-old son's, obviously not for the first time, and was about to begin fucking. Continuing to hold onto Willie's hips, Domi proceeded to pump his own hips to and fro, driving his stiff dink up my son's ass and then drawing it back out. The rest of us watched the two young boys, wearing only their socks, standing there in the middle of the family room and fucking. Only three years and ten months old, and my son Willie had another boy's dick up his ass and was being fucked! As I watched the two boys, I wondered where this was all going to lead.

Dimitri turned back to Eddie and I and he proceeded to instruct my eight-year-old son on how to masturbate me. As my son's fingers wrapped about my stiff cock, being the pervert I was it ached for his caress. How many times had I imagined him doing exactly this to me, and now he was! He concentrated on what he had been told to do, slowly pumping his fist up and down my shaft, drawing my foreskin down and then pushing it back up over my glans. I stood there in front of my chair in our family room, glancing down and watching my eldest son's hand masturbating me, and glancing over at my youngest son bent over the coffee table and getting his tight little butt fucked by a boy a year younger than the son masturbating me. I glanced over at Patrick sitting on the floor in front of the sofa. He was dividing his attention between his younger brother and Domi and his older brother and me. He was only five. What had he to be thinking?

Domi by this time was breathing heavily and pumping his hips to and fro rapidly, driving his stiff little cock in and out of my three-year-old son's ass. His eyes were half closed and his lips parted as he concentrated on the throbbing and burning of his little dicklet. He suddenly began to thrust his hips back and forth erratically and desperately and I recalled the similar reaction of his cousin the day I'd sucked his little cock and my surprise back then that a boy his age could have an orgasm. Grasping my three year old son's hips tightly, he shuddered and cried out as if in pain as he climaxed. In all of my fantasies, I'd never imagined anything so hot. The youngsters stood there in the middle of the family room united by the boy's slender little prick as their chests and bellies heaved and they gasped for breath. Finally, as his breathing began returning to normal, he pulled his dick out of Willie's rectum. It was glistening but I could see no shit.

"That was great," said Dimitri as Domi backed away. Standing up from the chair where he had been sitting and watching, he walked over to stand beside me and gestured for Patrick to come join him. Pulling down his fly and opening up his jeans, he pushed them down mid-thigh like mine were and then pushed his boxers down to join them and told Patrick he wanted him to show him what he'd learned from watching his brother jacking off me. His dick was impressive, already longer than mine was stiff and still flaccid though after watching Domi and Willie and Eddie and myself he had to be partially aroused. Glancing over at Eddie and me and then up at me uncertainly and receiving no objection from me, Patrick hesitantly reached up and wrapped his fingers about the man's cock and began to fiddle with it as he had seen Domi and Willie doing to each other as Willie and Domi sat down on the sofa.

Eddie had paused in his stroking and the two of us watched, his fingers still wrapped about my stiff cock, as Dimitri's cock continued swelling. It was not long before he was stiff. It had been impressive soft and was even more so hard. Circumcised and olive in colour like the rest of his body and pointing straight up in the air, the tip just below Patrick's chin, it was twenty centimetres long, a good five centimetres longer than mine, and at least three fingers thick. As Patrick slowly began to pump his fist up and down the man's cock, Eddie turned his attention back to me. His slender, hot fingers grasped my cock tightly once again as he resumed pumping his fist up and down my shaft, pulling my foreskin down and exposing my knob and then pushing it back up over the head of my cock. Patrick meanwhile pumped his fist up and down Dimitri's massive, circumcised cock.

What were my sons thinking? Eddie had admitted to knowing what jacking off meant but confessed he had never done it. Again I wondered where he had learned about it. He could have been told by a friend or a classmate, as had been the case for me, but I had been thirteen, five years older than he was. I had difficulty imagining two eight-year-old boys talking abut jacking off, though it was possible. I guessed it was more likely he had heard it from an older boy, either having been told directly by him or having overheard older boys talking about it. The thought of my son and a buddy sitting up in his room talking about such an intimate topic afterward and wondering about it sent an ache up my stiff dick as I recalled the hushed conversation I'd had with my buddy. Eddie had nothing to wonder about now. He was doing it. To his father! Another ache shot up the core of my cock. His younger brother was standing beside him doing what he was doing to me to a twenty-three-year-old stranger. What were the two boys thinking as their fists pumped up and down that most private organ, that part of the body they were told they were not to fiddle with and that nobody else was to touch? What was Willie thinking sitting there on the sofa in just his socks and watching his oldest brother touching the pee-er of his father, and his other brother touching the pee-er of a stranger?

Dimitri instructed the two boys on how to grasp a man's organ below the glans and squeeze to prolong his pleasure, which the two boys did, and he asked if they could feel the blood throbbing through our members, which they said they could. As they resumed pumping their fists up and down our stiff organs, I wondered how they were feeling. They had been told not to play with themselves, all three having innocently done so at some time. They had been told that was naughty, and that their penises were private and not to be shown to others and that it was bad for anyone to touch them there and they were to tell us immediately if anyone tried. Now my two oldest boys were touching someone else's penis–not just touching them, but jacking them off, and my youngest boy was sitting there watching them after having a boy shove his penis up his ass.

Jacking off was the most basic act a boy could engage in, and one that almost all if not all boys engage in at some time, most introduced to that act by a friend or classmate or an older boy, possibly doing it in the presence of that boy their first time, or perhaps doing it alone later out or curiosity. Certainly not many were introduced to the act by a twenty-three year old man they had just met, and even fewer yet had their first experience at jacking off doing their father, though if what you read on the Internet is true, it does happen. I suspect very few if any brothers would have done it in each other's presence for the first time while being watched by their three-year-old brother.

So, having been told touching and being touched was bad, how were they feeling? Eddie had heard about it. Did he feel as if he was being bad? Did he feel dirty? Was he embarrassed doing it and being watched? Was he embarrassed doing it to his father? I could not tell looking down at him. Was Patrick embarrassed being watched doing it to a stranger by his father? Did he and his brother feel guilty? They had to be confused, all three of them, being told you did not touch another person's private part and two of them now doing it, one to his father. All three boys stole glances at my stiff cock being pumped by their oldest brother's hot little fist, and all three stole glances at Dimitri's monster being stroked by his brother's hand. I was approaching my orgasm for the second time, and from his laboured breathing and the look on his face, so was Dimitri.

Reaching down for the pocket of his jeans, which, like mine, were hanging mid-thigh, he pulled out his handkerchief, unused I noticed, and turning so he was facing me and shuffling closer, he handed it to Eddie and showed him where to hold it between our two stiff dicks. He called Willie and the other two boys to come and stand beside us. My swollen cock had gone numb and I opened and closed the opening in anticipation of what was about to happen any second. Dimitri shuffled still closer, our cocks separated by the width of Eddie's left hand. I was the first to come. My first squirt overshot and almost shot right over the handkerchief I was so hot. It was quickly followed by a second, third and fourth squirt in rapid succession which Eddie caught in the handkerchief and my three boys stared with wide-eyed, slack-jawed surprise and wonder at the slime spurting out of the tip of my dick and collecting in a pool in the middle of the handkerchief.

I was still spurting when Dimitri began, his first almost overshooting the handkerchief like mine and squirting in rapid succession also, his thick semen spurting into the handkerchief to mix with mine. We were both breathing heavily, our chests and stomachs heaving. Eddie and Patrick had stopped pumping their fists but were still grasping our throbbing cocks and Dimitri explained to them how to milk out our remaining semen. They did so slowly, staring intently along with their youngest brother at the cum oozing out of the tip of our cocks and into the handkerchief. My last oozed out along the underside of my glans and over the back of Eddie's fingers, and Dimitri's similarly oozed out over Patrick's. I had fantasized my sons masturbating me. Despite my embarrassment and feelings of guilt, being jacked off by my eldest son had brought me far more pleasure than I had imagined it would, as had watching my middle child jacking off a stranger. What sort of pervert was I?

"That's cum," said Dimitri finally, interrupting my thoughts. "When your daddy was a boy he did himself with his hand just like Eddie did him today with his, and he did it while he was talking to me on the phone and telling me how hot you boys were and how badly he wanted to mess around with you. That's how the three of you began life, as a puddle of hot slime, except of course he shot it up your mommy's cunt, not in a handkerchief with mine. And he didn't dribble the last on your mommy's fingers like he dribbled on Eddie's, or like I dribbled on Patrick's," he said with a grin. How did your daddy's cum feel?" he asked Eddie.

"Hot. And slimy," he said, looking at the puddle, and then at the dribble of cum on his fingers.

He had Willie touch the blob of semen in the handkerchief and he did so cautiously, pronouncing that it was sticky as he rubbed the tip of his index finger and thumb together. He also had the boys bend over and inhale deeply to smell it. Wadding the handkerchief up, he tossed it on the coffee table.

"So, are you boys having fun?" My sons glanced at each other, and over at me uncertainly. "I know, it's all a bit scary and confusing right now. A bit embarrassing? Don't worry. By the time we're finished you're going to be three little filthy, cockloving fairies." The three boys glanced at each other again. From the look on his face Eddie did not see that as something he wanted to be, and his two younger brothers were suspecting it wasn't something they wanted to be either. None of them dared look up at me. "So, you've seen two ways guys can have fun with their dicks, by fucking another guy's ass, or by jacking off." He stepped out of his jeans and boxers and dropped them where he stood, and he nodded for me to do the same. I hesitated and then followed suit, figuring after what I had just done, it was foolish to feel guilty about exhibiting myself to my sons. "Well, there's a third way you can have fun with your dick," he said, glancing around at each of us as if thinking, but like before, I'm sure he already had his next move planned, again probably before he'd even arrived at my home. "Patrick, your turn," he said. "And … Justin."

The two boys stood beside the coffee table along with him while I returned to my chair, now only in my shirt and socks, Eddie sat down on the sofa, Domi and Willie sat cross legged on the carpet. The teenage was a bit glassy-eyed and unsteady, showing the effect of the two beer he had consumed. "The third way is by using your mouth, like you saw your daddy doing Domi's cousin Marcus and Marcus doing your daddy in the bushes. It's actually Marcus's favourite way of getting guys off, and you won't find anyone who can give a better blow job than my man Justin here. Demonstrate how it's done for us by showing Patrick how to suck yours, Justin."

Being told nobody can give a better blow job is a strange complement to give a teenage boy and Justin appeared to have mixed feelings about it. It was praise, and from someone he appeared to admire, but it was not an achievement most boys would want other boys to know. From the look on his face, Patrick clearly didn't think it was such a great idea, but he had seen pictures of me doing it and having it done to me, and I seemed to enjoy both. I could not deny it. I'd found it hot sucking Domi's cousin in the park, and even hotter being sucked by the boy, and yes, I'd fantasized about my sons sucking me, but sucking and being sucked by an eager, good-looking cherub in a park and fantasies about being done by one's sons are very different from actually watching your five-year-old son being taught how to suck a teenage boy's cock. The problem was, how could I explain that when my sons had seen me sucking a boy's cock and being sucked by the boy, and how could I now intervene on behalf of Patrick when I had not intervened for Willie nor Eddie?

"Hey, it's not like what you're thinking," said Justin. "I thought it would be gross too, but it's not. You'll see." He looked around. "Sit here on the coffee table."

Patrick sat down uncertainly and uncomfortably. Putting your feet on the coffee table was strictly forbidden and sitting on it unthinkable. He would have gotten supreme hell from his mother if he'd been caught. I can't begin to imagine if she'd caught him not just sitting on the table but with a boy's cock in his mouth besides! I don't imagine my boys could either, though they had to be thinking it. Justin stood in front of Patrick but in a position where we could all see and pulling down his fly and unbuckling his belt, he pushed his jeans down. At first I thought the boy was wearing a leather jock, but on closer look I saw he was wearing faux leather low-rise underwear that revealed the top of his pubic hairs. He was not a bad looking boy and standing there in such sexy underwear and with his jeans pushed down I must confess he looked very hot and despite having just come, I felt a stir between my legs, which was worrisome considering I was naked waist down. Pushing down his underwear, the boy revealed a decent package for a boy about to turn fifteen. His hairs were still short and curly and confined to the lower wedge of his abdomen. His dick was uncircumcised and partially aroused and he had a nice set of balls in a loose sack of skin. He told Patrick to hold his dick up by the base and to lick it. Patrick did, hesitantly and self-consciously as I and his brothers watched. Finding it didn't taste as bad as he'd thought it would, he licked it a few more times and of course the older boy began to swell.

I didn't know how to feel as I sat there listening to the teenage boy instructing my five-year-old son in the finer details of sucking cock. It was extremely hot, watching my middle child slipping his lips over another boy's cockhead for the first time, but it was also perverted, and it was happening as a result of my own perversion, making me feel guilty and ashamed. It was very wrong and should not be happening, but a the same time I was glad that his first experience was going to be with someone who knew and appreciated what it was like to be the active partner and would be able to guide him through it. Following Justin's instructions, Patrick stopped with just the boy's knob in his mouth and alternated breathing through his nose and sucking on the boy's dick, his cheeks sinking in as the boy grew hard in his mouth. Being a teenager, that did not take long. Again following instructions, Patrick then began to slide his lips up and down the boy's shaft while he continued to suck. I glanced at my two other sons but they didn't notice, their attention being on their brother sitting there on the coffee table and sucking another boy's dick. Despite myself, I began to swell. I slowly slipped my hand in front of my crotch and cupped by other hand over it, trying to hide my growing erection without being obvious.

We watched for a while and the teenage boy then instructed Patrick how to delay his ejaculation by using his lips to apply pressure below his knob, and as I sat there and watched I thought about my own experiences sucking cock, how good it felt sucking another man's prick, and how good it felt having another guy sucking mine, and especially how good it had been with the seven-year-old in the park. My cock jutted out in full erection behind my cupped hands. My wife has a fairly open attitude toward sex but there are some things she draws a line at, and sucking my dick is one of them. Thinking of her again, I wondered how she would feel if she knew her husband and two sons were in the family room with a man and another boy watching a teenage boy getting his cock sucked by her middle child for the first time in her son's life. How I was feeling was obvious.

I have to admit the teenager was good as an instructor, and if Patrick was going to learn about oral sex he'd never learn it from anyone better. He warned Patrick when he was about to come, and told him what to do before he did. He even told him he could remove his mouth at the last moment and collect his semen in the wadded handkerchief I and Dimitri had used and that was beside him on the coffee table, catch it in his mouth and spit it out, or swallow it, observing that of them all, he preferred the last when he did it. He came a minute later, and always one to please and to follow advice, Patrick chose to swallow. As I sat there watching him swallowing the teenage boy's slime, I wondered how he was feeling, and what he was thinking, and particularly how he felt being watched by his father and brothers. I darted a glance at my other two sons who were too intent on watching their brother to notice me. They had to be wondering what a guy's semen tasted like. They did not appear to find what Patrick had done repulsive, not even swallowing the teenager's cum. Nor did Patrick. He had a pensive, thoughtful expression as he sat there and Justin stepped back and then stepped out of his jeans and underwear.

"Now that you know how to bring other guys pleasure, it's time that you found out just what sort of pleasure you've been bringing us by having us bring you that pleasure. It will be a few years before you can cum like your daddy and Justin and I, but you can enjoy having your dicks played with and having an orgasm right now even if you can't squirt." He paused and studied my three boys. "Let's see, let's form a line, Eddie here, Patrick, and between the two of you Willie. Eddie and Patrick, drop your shorts and underwear." They were the only two of us whose privates were not exposed. They did has they were told and stood there staring at the carpet self-consciously. Now on Eddie's left, let's have you Domi, and between Eddie and Patrick, Justin, and between Patrick and Willie, Ed." We all obediently took our places. "Now Domi, you reach over and take Eddie's dick in your right hand and jack him off, Justin you take Patrick's dick in your right hand and jack him off, and Ed, you reach over with your right hand and take your son Willie's dick and jack him off."

We were standing in a semicircle so each of us could see and be seen by the others. I had no idea what Dimitri's job or his past were, but he had to have had some experience directing, or being directed, and I suspected that was in porn films, not the legitimate theatre. Domi and Justin were clearly enamoured with Dimitri. Domi, at seven years of age, I could understand. Boys his age were trusting and easily impressed, and he was being allowed to do things no other adult would allow. Justin's admiration was just as explainable. At his age his hormones were running at an all time high, and he was controlled by his gonads, not his mind, and Dimitri was giving them full range.

Both were also evidently accustomed to being directed, and engaging in adult pastimes, because they eagerly did as they had been told, Domi beginning to tug and bounce Eddie's prick, and Justin likewise having no hesitation fiddling with Patrick's penis. I was not accustomed to being directed by a man ten years my junior, and certainly not as comfortable in engaging in adult pleasures with under aged boys. Good God, I was expected to reach down and jack off my youngest child. He was only three years old–three years and ten months! Sure I'd fantasized about messing around with him, as I had his two older brothers, but those were fantasies, and fantasizing and doing are two different things, like looking at pictures of men having sex with children and actually having sex with them yourself.

I was unaccustomed, and uncomfortable, but, admittedly, not unwilling. For one, I really was not left with any real choice. I had already watched my three sons bring sexual pleasure to someone of their own gender, and my oldest had masturbated me. To object to them experiencing the same pleasure as I had experienced this evening would be hypocritical. For another, to object to what they were doing would indicate disapproval and that what they were doing was wrong and something to be ashamed of. I certainly didn't feel that way, and certainly not when it came to masturbation. It is pleasurable, and every boy tries it, though not necessarily with another boy, and less likely with an adult, and I didn't believe there was any harm in it if they did.

My older two boys were beginning to swell. While I had been deliberating, Dimitri had removed and piled up the seat cushions of my sofa chair and my wife's for Willie to stand on so I could more easily reach his pecker. I reached down and held up his limp little noodle with my thumb and first two fingers. It felt so soft and so delicate. I pulled his skin back gently and pushed it back up and remembered how not that long ago I had done that in the bathtub for the purpose of exposing his glans and keeping it clean though in my mind it had been for a totally different purpose. I cannot deny it had given me a thrill back then, and I cannot deny that it was giving me a thrill now. As I slowly repeated the motion I thought back to earlier this evening when my oldest boy had jacked me off in front of his brothers. Now I was jacking off my youngest in front of his brothers. This was one surprising and unexpected evening for me. It had to be doubly so for my three sons, and confusing. My cock slowly began to swell, and so did Willie's. Standing there in only my shirt and socks and Willie only in his socks, I glanced at my other two sons. They were standing there with their shorts and underwear about their ankles. Dimitri, in only his socks, and Justin, like me in his shirt and socks, were concentrating on jacking my two sons off. Soon all six of us were stiff. Dimitri took a group picture of us.

As I slowly stroked Willie's stiff little cocklet I thought of the pleasure he was experiencing, a pleasure he had been caught performing on himself and had been stopped by my wife as being inappropriate, and which he was now experiencing from someone else's hand and for an extended period for the first time in his life. I glanced at his two older brothers who had also at different junctures in their lives been caught and stopped, not because I honestly thought it was wrong, but because it was something society said boys did not do in public, and by a segment, did not even do at all, and it was expected of me to stop them. Whether or not Eddie did it in private I had no idea, but I now knew for sure he was now experiencing, and realizing, the pleasure that earlier this evening he had brought me. When I recalled my very first experience at jacking off, by my own hand, and the intense physical pleasure and the mystery and joy of discovery that first time, my cock throbbed and jerked with the memory. It was the same delightful arousal my three boys were feeling for the first time this very instant. That thought tripled my arousal.

The three of us, even young Domi, were experienced in bringing this type of pleasure to ourselves and to others. We stroked the cocks in our hands slowly and gently and teasingly as if they were our own, pausing frequently to prolong the pleasure, our own cocks stiff and throbbing with arousal. My three sons began squirming and panting with the throbbing of their pricks and the sharp itching of their prickheads, and the desperate ache to orgasm. That ache was another new experience and a mystery for the three of them, making the ache I was feeling all the more acute for me. Sweet Jesus, my three son were about to experience the first orgasms of their life, and I was witnessing it, and the cause of my youngest's. A pedo dad's dream!

Eddie was the first to climax and he arched his back and thrust his hips forward and he grimaced and clenched his teeth and gasped as the first wave passed up his stiff cocklet, quickly followed by the next and another. There was a group of boylovers who had the motto, "if not before eight, too late." I do not know if they still exist, but I recently read an article in our local newspaper that quoted a child psychologist that said a parent should talk to his child about sex by the age of eight. I don't know what is so magic about the age of eight, but I was not talking about sex with my eight-year-old boy, I was witnessing him having his first orgasm! He was still quivering and gasping when his five-year-old brother Patrick climaxed and performed the same twitching dance of ecstasy, his cock throbbing in the hand of the teenage boy he had sucked earlier. Seconds later Willie began to dance with his orgasm, the result of his father having stroked his little cocklet, now rigid and hard as a nail, red hot, and throbbing with pleasure.

I knew how I had felt and what I had been thinking when I had my first orgasm and I imagine their thoughts and feelings were similar. My first orgasm, however, had been in private. Theirs had been in front of each other, and three strangers, and in front of their father. I had to wonder what they were thinking of the latter, particularly after being told it was something private and wrong. I know I would have been embarrassed as hell experiencing something that intimate and private in front of my father. As for Willie, he had not just experienced it in front of his father, it was the result of what his father, who was still gripping his throbbing, burning little cocklet, had done to him! What was he and his two brothers thinking of that! I felt as if my nuts were about to explode!

"Now, you see what's so great about having your dick messed with?" Dimitri asked as the six of us stood there, our cocks still jutting up in the air, my three sons still gasping for breath. "How you three just felt getting jacked off is the same as how the guy who's cock you fiddled with earlier this evening felt, and you were the one who caused him to feel that way." My three boys glanced at each other with sheepish smiles as that thought sank in and Dimitri paused to give them time to think about it. He had to have experienced something like this himself, and done this sort of thing before with other young, inexperienced boys. It certainly was not your traditional form of sex education!

"As you can see, getting you off has made the person jacking you off horny again. I think it's only fair you get them off too, don't you?" My three boys nodded without hesitation. "Let's see," he said, glancing around at us, again giving me the impression this was all an act and we were performing a script he had written for this evening, "Willie, I bet Justin would like you to jerk him off, and Eddie, I bet Domi would like you to suck his dick, and Patrick, I bet your dad would love to fuck your ass."

Willie, having just been masturbated by myself and his little dick still stiff and jutting up in the air, stepped down off the two cushions and stepped over to Justin eagerly and reached up and wrapped his fingers about the teenage boy's dick. Eddie, having watched his brother Patrick suck Justin and the video of me and Domi's cousin sucking each other, was I suspect curious what it was like. Stepping out of his shorts and underwear, he approached seven-year-old Domi, his stiff dick pointing the way. Patrick looked up at me apprehensively, and then at my dick, eager to please me, his stiff dick still itching with his recent orgasm, and I suspect remembering watching his kid brother getting fucked by Domi. He also had to be wondering how I was going to stick something my size up butt, and how much it would hurt. Smiling down at him reassuringly, I reached out and took his hand.

Justin and Willie sat down on the sofa with Willie to the left. Reaching over and wrapping his fingers about Justin's limp cock, Willie began to tug on it just as he'd seen Domi tugging on his oldest brother's dick and as he seen his oldest brother tugging on mine. He'd also watched Patrick being jerked off by Justin and Patrick jerking off Dimitri. Eddie, meanwhile, sat down on the floor on the other side of his youngest brother and as Domi stepped up in front of him he reached out and holding the seven-year-old boy's stiff cock by the base he slipped his lips over the bulb and began to suck. Holding onto me for support, Patrick stepped out of his shorts and briefs and taking a tube of KY from his backpack, Dimitri handed it to me with a smile. Having Patrick assume the same position as Willie had, leaning over and placing his palms on the coffee table, I knelt down behind him and began to finger his little pucker, massaging it with the tip of my finger.

"Bet you'd really get him hot by rimming him," suggested Dimitri, "and I bet watching the two of you would really turn on his brothers and give them ideas."

Good God! How perverted was that? Rim my five-year-old son? In front of his brothers? Where did the man get such a filthy mind! I am sure there are many boys who have thought of telling their father to lick their asshole, but not five years of age, and not for pleasure. What were my three sons thinking as they looked up at me, waiting for my response? My cock twitched with the thought, which didn't go unnoticed by everyone else in the room. The top of Patrick's head was level with my belly button and he was less than nineteen kilos, and though my cock was nowhere near as big as Dimitri's, it was more than two fingers thick.. Patrick was going to be very tight. Getting his asshole licked and sucked by his dad could get him hot, and the hotter the boy was the easier it was going to be to penetrate him, and the less painful it would be for him. Of course he could just as well find having his dad licking his asshole disgusting, as could his brothers. Actually that was more likely. Even as young as five, he had to find the idea of his father licking and sucking his asshole filthy and demeaning. For me, I must confess, that was part of the appeal, evidence of the depth of my depravity. Shuffling closer and spreading apart his smooth ass cheeks, I leaned forward and ran my tongue up along his ass crack and I wiggled it

into his butthole in front of his two brothers sitting on the sofa in front of us. My cock was rigid and aching.

As Willie's hand slowly pumped up and down the teenage boy's stiff cock, his eyes were glued on me as I wormed my tongue into his brother's hole. I'm sure he was thinking about having been fucked himself and how it had felt, and wondering what it would be like to be fucked by your own father. My oldest boy, sitting there on the carpet beside his youngest brother, took his eyes off me and turned his attention back to the seven-year-old boy standing in front of him. As he resumed sucking on the boy's stiff cock, I knelt there on the carpet and sucked on his brother's asshole. What was Patrick thinking, having his father kneeling behind him and worming his tongue into his asshole? All three of my boys had to be thinking what a sick, perverted dad they had for a father. My stiff cock wagged in agreement and ached all the more.

Generously applying lube to the tip of my middle finger, I worked the tip into Patrick's anus and swirled my finger around, lubricating just inside his opening, and then adding more lube to my middle finger, I slowly slid it up my five-year-old son's asshole, penetrating him to the first knuckle and pausing, then to the second, and finally the third. My youngest was sitting there watching intently as I knelt there with my middle finger sunk up his brother's ass and his brother sat beside him sucking cock. I had told my wife this weekend was a good opportunity for bonding between my sons and I. If she only knew!

Withdrawing my finger, I wiped the KY and smears of shit off on my cock, which I have to confess had never ached so badly, not even the night I took my wife's virginity. Grasping Willie's hips, I placed the tip of my now greased prick against his lubed hole and slowly pushed forward, telling him to push out at the same time. Ever so slowly my dickhead stretched open my son's asshole, wider and wider until it popped inside. I paused for a moment to catch my breath and to let Patrick get used to having a man's knob inside his rectum, and to recover from the strain and I am sure pain of my entry, and then I slowly sank my cock the rest of the way up his virgin hole. I had now taken my five-year-old son's virginity!

And so, for the second time that evening, my three sons brought someone off. My son Willie sat there on the sofa and jacked off the fourteen-year-old boy sitting beside him, the teenager having been sucked off by Willie's brother Patrick earlier. My son Eddie sat on the carpet beside his brother and sucked off the seven-year-old who had fucked his youngest brother earlier. The perverted little youngster had his cock up my three-year-old son's ass, and now had it in my oldest son's mouth. Dimitri had to be proud of him. And my son Patrick was bent over with his elbows on the coffee table in front of his two brothers with my cock pumping in and out of his tight little ass. We were all one horny, perverted family.

Justin was soon ready to squirt and he had Willie squeeze his cock below his bulb to prolong his pleasure. Domi similarly told my oldest son to clamp his lips down below his knob to delay his orgasm. Fucking my middle child and watching my other two sons had me hot as hell, and I also paused to allow my lust to subside and to prolong my pleasure. I confess I found pumping my cock in and out of my five-year-old son's ass pleasurable, and as I slowly reached around under his belly, I was surprised, and pleased, to find he had an erection. Evidently he had found getting fucked by his dad in front of his two brothers pleasurable also and it had gotten him aroused. As our lust subsided, we each resumed and once again the family room was filled with the sounds of heavy, irregular breathing, slurping, and slapping of flesh against flesh. Once again our pleasure built until Justin urgently told Willie to grab the wadded handkerchief on the table beside him and catch his cum. He came just as furiously and copiously as his first time, adding his teenage slime to the sticky, sodden handkerchief. As he did so Domi squirmed with his dry orgasm and I grunted and rammed my stiff, numb cock up my middle child's ass and filled his rectum with my slime just as just over six years ago I had spurted my seed up his mother's cunt to create him.

I ordered three large pizza, cheese sticks and three large soda and while we waited Domi told Willie and Patrick how his uncle Dimitri had introduced him to sex and how he was learning to be a boylover just like his uncle, and Justin sat down beside Eddie and as the two shared a beer told him about Dimitri introducing him to boy love and about his summer and having sex with a boy and his eight-year-old brother. I did not object over the beer. Half a bottle wouldn't cause any harm. I was sitting in my usual sofa chair in just my shirt and socks and Dimitri was sitting in the other normally occupied by my wife. As we had a beer he stared off into space and I wondered what he was thinking and I had to wonder just what sort of man I had become involved with, and, where this was going to lead.

Chapter 19
A Family Affair – Part 2 of 2

Continuation of Part 1.  Day two.  Ed's dark secret is fulfilled and the sex education of his sons continues.

Note: Two of the sons are under the age of seven.  Some readers may find this offensive.

Slipping on my pants and half buttoning my shirt when the doorbell rang, I got the pizza. The delivery boy was young, maybe late teens, with an acne condition but otherwise not bad looking. I wondered what he would think if he knew what we'd been doing to work up an appetite! As we sat down to eat, I glanced around the room. Domi and Willie were still in just their socks. Everyone else still had their shirt on. Eddie's and Justin's were unbuttoned, revealing their smooth chests. As we ate and the boys talked, the reality and implications of what we had done sank in. I'd had sex with each of my three sons. I had been jacked off by my eldest child, Eddie, and he had caught my semen in a handkerchief while his brothers watched, and I had fucked my middle child, Patrick and come up his ass. I'd jerked off my youngest, Willie, resulting in him having his first orgasm. Only three years of age, he had been fucked by a seven-year-old, Domi, and had jerked off a teenage boy, Justin, and had a second orgasm by being sucked by an adult, Dimitri. My middle child, Patrick, had sucked the teenage boy and jerked off Dimitri, and had his first orgasm by being jerked by the teenager. My oldest, Eddie, had sucked the seven year old and his first orgasm been by being jerked off by him. When I had bid my wife goodbye I had no idea the day would turn out like this.

Someone burped followed by several more and giggles. They were still just boys. Dimitri pulled off his shirt and socks and dropped them where he sat and he encouraged the rest of us to strip naked also, which everyone did, remaining clothed really being pointless after what we had done. I was the only one having any hesitation. The boys had all seen me shirtless of course, and after having exposed my ass and my privates, baring my chest was trivial. Still, removing my shirt and socks was verification of my approval of our nudity. Dimitri's thick mat of chest hair caught everyone's eye. My three boys did not appear to be the slightest disturbed by our nudity, nor by what had happened since the arrival of our guests. They were surprisingly relaxed and casual considering what we'd done.

"Now then," began Dimitri as he stretched and revealed his thick pit hair, "who's ready for more pecker fun?" Justin affirmed he was and the rest of the boys, including my three sons, glanced at each other and then raised their hands and giggled. I was surprised at their total lack of hesitation and quick rejection of the values I and their mother had been instilling in them. Their mother and I had been consistent in the message that their private parts were just that, private, not to be exposed to others, certainly not toys to be played with, and certainly not to be touched by others. That they had discarded that message so quickly and easily was disturbing. Was our preaching that meaningless to them? If that was how quickly they rejected our strongest sexual value, what about the rest of the values we had been trying to instill in them? Of course that they were not ashamed nor disgusted being nude or by what we had done was a relief for me, but how seriously they took our rules was a worry. It also gave me cause to wonder just how valid those rules had been to be so easily forgotten.

Dimitri slowly looked around the room. "Eddie, after eating all that pizza, you got room for a little salami and a fresh shot of cream?" he asked, slipping his fingers under his flaccid cock and bouncing it as he leered over at my son.

"If that's a little salami, a large one must really be a whopper," Eddie said with a shy grin and everyone burst out laughing. That is not a comment a father would ever expect to hear from the lips of his eight-year-old son.

Eddie got up from where he'd been sitting on the floor beside the coffee table with Justin and stepped forward and dropped to his knees in front of Dimitri, who was sitting opposite me in the other sofa chair normally occupied by my wife. Dimitri told Justin to come sit on the floor beside Eddie. Willie and Patrick were sitting on the sofa. Dimitri told Domi to sit on the floor in front of Willie and me to sit beside him in front of Patrick. Once we were in position, Eddie reached out and holding Dimitri's massive but still limp cock up by the base, he began licking it like it was an ice cream cone, swirling his tongue around the knob as eagerly as if it were a scoop of blueberry ice cream. Reaching over and lifting up Eddie's cocklet, Justin bent over and pulling back Eddie's foreskin, began to lick his exposed bulb. As Justin's tongue ran over the rim, Eddie squirmed with arousal and his cocklet began to swell and Dimitri squirmed as similar pricks of arousal shot through his glans as Eddie's tongue ran along its rim.

Having fucked Patrick's little ass earlier, I now reached out, and pulling back his foreskin, I held up his limp, little dick by the base and began to lick his knob. Following my lead, Domi did likewise to Patrick's little brother. The two boys quickly became stiff and again I had to marvel at the wonder of boys that age being capable of becoming erect, and to wonder what other possible reason God had to have had to make their dinks so sensitive and capable of stiffening at that young age if He had not intended on them engaging in sex. I could think of no reason. This was Patrick's first blow job, and Willie's second, Willie having been sucked off earlier by Dimitri.. I wondered what the two boys were thinking as they sat there side by side on the sofa, their little cocks stiff and getting sucked, and what Willie and Patrick were thinking of me sitting there on the floor sucking Patrick's dick.

The two young boys had discovered this evening the pleasure of having a stiff cock, and the pleasure of being brought off to a dry orgasm. As they sat there side by side, stark naked, watching their cock being sucked and glancing at their brother's cock and watching it being sucked also, they knew the pleasure that the other was feeling, and the ultimate pleasure that the two of us kneeling before them would bring them. That bond, both knowing what a dry orgasm felt like and exactly how another boy felt when that happened, was for me what made sex with another male so enjoyable and so different from sex with the opposite gender. I wondered if my sons would feel the same when sometime in the future they had their first sex with someone of the opposite gender.

This was Eddie's second oral experience also, having already sucked Domi and now sucking Dimitri. Dimitri's massive cock had to be a lot different than sucking the thumb-sized dick of a seven-year-old. For one, he had been able to go all the way down to the hairless base of Domi's dick, but could barely get past Dimitri's plum-sized bulb. And of course the end result was going to be very different. He had experienced jacking me off and knew what a man's semen, his shot of cream as Dimitri had put it, felt and smelt like. Now he was going to get a mouthful of it and discover what it tasted like. At the same time, he was being sucked off also and he knew that the pleasure he was feeling as a result of the teenager sucking on his cock was the same pleasure that he was giving the man sitting before him, and that the pleasure of having a hard, tingling cock and ultimately a dry orgasm was the same pleasure his two brothers were and would be feeling. I remembered the apprehension the first time I had sucked cock, knowing it would culminate in a mouth full of thick slime, and how hot it had been when it had happened, and I hoped my eight-year-old son would find as much pleasure and enjoyment in the experience as I had.

Turning my attention to my middle son, I sucked on his stiff little noodle and slid my lips up and down the shaft, pushing his foreskin down over his bulb with my lips and drawing it back up, sending shivers of arousal through his glans and up his swollen dicklet, shivers of arousal he had felt for the first time in his life this evening being jacked off by the teenager Justin. He was about to experience his second orgasm in his young life, this time courtesy of his father. Not many sons can claim that, nor fathers. As I sucked on my young boy's little cocklet and he squirmed with the still new and mysterious pleasure pulsating between his legs, I was glad that Dimitri had forced me to actualize my fantasies, and I felt sorry for all the fathers out there with the same perverted lust as I have being denied sharing this pleasure with their son. That was hot. Making it even hotter, beside him a seven-year-old boy lover in training was eagerly sucking on the little dicklet of his three-year-old brother, who was feeling the same frightful pleasure and I am sure eagerly looking forward to his second dry orgasm of the night.

I paused and clamped my lips below Patrick's bulb to cut off his desire and prolong his pleasure, and Domi did likewise. I had to wonder at the boy's skill and experience and his tale earlier about being "learned" by his uncle and his desire to be a boy lover just like him. Just the thought had my stiff dick jerking with arousal and I had to reach down and squeeze it below the knob or I would have shot off a load without ever having been touched. I thought about Dimitri teaching his little nephew as I resumed sucking my son's cocklet, and I knew that my sons' sexual education had taken a sudden turn this night. This night they were being introduced to the pleasures of male-male sex, and the pleasures of sex between men and boys, but in the days to come it would be up to me to refine their knowledge and their skills, and to nurture a very different set of values and reassure them those values were nothing to feel shame or guilt about. This night I had begun my own education of my three sons to become the lover of boys just like their dad.

The next time Patrick approached his orgasm, I continued and seconds later he was squirming and squealing and jerking his hips uncontrollably with that mysterious and powerful pleasure ripping through his swollen cocklet. His three-year-old brother had his fingers entangled in Domi's hair and was grasping the boy's head as he was similarly experiencing his second orgasm of the night. Beside us, their older brother was squirming and bucking his hips to and fro with his second dry orgasm also, having been jacked off by Domi earlier and now having been sucked off by Justin. As he twitched and quivered with his orgasm, Dimitri began to shoot his load, filling my oldest son's mouth with his slime. Caught in the throes of his own orgasm, Eddie gulped down his thick, slimy cream and Dimitri groaned and gasped with pure pleasure, his cum oozing out of the corners of my oldest boy's mouth and down and around his chin.

Dimitri broke open more bags of chips and snacks and brought out more cans of soda and beer. The boys talked about their interests and hobbies, about school and their favourite subjects, and about ejaculations and erections, and about keeping secrets. Justin was showing the effects of the beers, and so was Eddie, the two boys slurring their words and unsteady on their feet. Everyone was on a sugar high. Willie was sitting on the coffee table and fiddling with himself while Domi was sitting beside him and relating something about his cousin Marcus. Dimitri walked over to them and dropping to his knees and elbows, he took Willie's cocklet in his mouth and began sucking it. Seeing the two of them, Patrick joined them and kneeling behind Dimitri he pulled apart his ass cheeks and much to my surprise began to rim the older man just as I had rimmed him earlier. Never in my wildest dreams had I ever imagined one of my sons doing that to me, or to anyone else!

Domi grinned and spread his legs as Eddie stepped forward. Dropping to his knees and elbows, he took Domi's cocklet in his mouth and began sucking it for the second time that evening. That left Eddie's ass exposed and Justin stepped over to take the empty space, crouching behind him and beginning to rim him. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined witnessing such debauchery. Seeing an opening, I stepped over to Domi and Willie and between Dimitri and Eddie and presented my swelling cock to the younger boys. The two boys eagerly and hungrily leaned forward and while Domi began to lick my nuts, Willie picked up my flaccid cock in his hot little hand and began to lick my glans.

And so the seven of us entwined in a tangle of arms and legs and swelling cocks. Sitting side by side on the coffee table, Willie and Domi eagerly attacked me with their mouths, licking my nuts and cock and sucking on them while the two of them were getting their own cocks sucked, Willie being sucked by Dimitri and Domi by Eddie. At the same time Patrick had inserted his cocklet up Dimitri's asshole and was fucking him while reaching under him and jerking off his massive cock. Kneeling beside Patrick was Justin, his cock up Eddie's ass and his hand pumping Eddie's cock. Two men and five boys, each of us being brought off, Willie, Domi and I being sucked off, Eddie and Dimitri being jacked off, and Patrick and Justin fucking ass. And, while we were being brought off, six of us were bringing off someone else, Dimitri, Eddie, Domi and Willie all sucking cock, and Justin and Patrick jerking off the person they were fucking. I alone was not getting anyone off and stood there and watched the perverted orgy around me.

For the next five minutes the seven of us concentrated on the pleasure throbbing between our legs and the growing need to get off, and on the pleasure we were bringing others. The room was filled with laboured breathing, the slapping of one hand clapping, and the slurping, sucking and grunting of unabashed and uninhibited oral sex. My cock was swollen and throbbing. For the third time that evening I was approaching an orgasm, as was everyone else. My mind flicked from one to the other, on Eddie being fucked and jacked off by Justin while sucking Domi's little noodle, Patrick fucking and jacking off Dimitri, and Willie being sucked by Dimitri and sucking my cock along with Domi. Eddie had a cock up his ass and another in his mouth, Patrick had one in his hand, and Willie had mine in his mouth. At the same time Eddie had his cock in another boy's hand, Patrick had his up an adult's ass, and Willie had his cock in a man's mouth.

As each of us except myself strove to bring pleasure to another person and to bring him off, we each were being brought off ourselves. One by one we began to climax. While Eddie found his rectum being filled with hot teenage slime, he was jerking and gasping with his own orgasm by that teenager's hand. While Patrick grunted and snorted with his orgasm, his little cocklet throbbing up Dimitri's ass, he was grasping the man's hot, throbbing organ as he squirted out his thick juice in the now sodden handkerchief. And while Willie and Domi squirmed and jerked with their orgasms, I splattered their faces and naked bodies with my hot slime.

It was I who initiated the next round. Dimitri and I were sitting side by side on the sofa having still another beer. He was showing Willie how to French kiss. Unable to resist, I slipped off the sofa and sitting on the floor, I took my youngest son's little cocktail weenie and began to suck on it, returning the pleasure as Willie had sucked my cock in the last round. Dimitri slipped off the sofa also and began to rim my boy at the same time, causing him to giggle and squirm and his little cocket to quickly stiffen. As Dimitri reached for the tube of KY on the coffee table I realized his intention. He was preparing to shove his monstrous cock up the tight ass of my three-year-old son. Willie had already been fucked by Domi, but having the thumb-sized dink of a seven-year-old up his ass was going to be nothing compared to Dimitri's twenty-centimetre bone. Eddie and Justin were standing beside him sharing still another beer. With the eight-year-old's balls dangling in front of him, Dimitri leaned forward and took them in his mouth as he began to slip his middle finger up Willie's asshole. Taking the tube of KY, Justin squeezed out a dollop and began to smear it over Eddie's asshole and both boys' dicks began to swell. Seeing what was happening, Patrick and Domi joined in and as Justin finger fucked my oldest boy he took his brother's dick in his mouth and Patrick reached over and began to stroke Domi's flaccid pecker.

Once again we concentrated on the pleasures pulsating between our legs and on bringing the same pleasure to our partner. By this time Willie was so full of sugar and so aroused to my surprise he took Dimitri's fat sausage up his ass with barely a flinch. Three years old and he stood there with his hands on my shoulders for balance as the twenty-three-year-old I barely knew sank his cock up my boy's asshole as I, the sick pervert that I was, sucked hungrily on his little weenie and stroked my own swollen cock. Dimitri meanwhile went down on my oldest boy and began bobbing his head as he sucked the boy's stiff cock. My eight-year-old's cock was only the size of my thumb when erect, but it throbbed with the same pleasure and desire as the monster cock shoved up his little brother's rectum. While Dimitri sucked on the young boy's aching bone, Justin slipped his own bone up my eldest son's ass and began fucking him once again, having just had his cock up the boy's ass the last round. While he fucked Eddie, he bent over and took his brother's dick in his mouth, and while he sucked on Patrick's stiff little cocklet Patrick reached over and began to jerk off Domi and the two boys began to French kiss.

Seeing two boys, seven and five years old, naked, the youngest one your son, their eyes closed and lips pressed tightly together as one slipped his tongue into the mouth of the other while the other stroked his little swollen cocklet has to be the hottest thing a man can witness. It had all come naturally, the two boys neither being prompted nor orchestrated. They were acting totally out of lust, driven solely by the pleasure pulsating between their legs and the desire to bring another that same pleasure. Their little peckers, one the size of a man's thumb and the other the size of his smallest finger, were stiff and itching, their little nuts swollen and drawn up beneath their cocks. Domi withdrew his tongue and Patrick's tongue followed it into the other boy's mouth, and their smooth, rosy lips pressed tightly together again. Patrick stroked the older boy's cocklet, knowing the pleasure he was bringing the older boy, and knowing it was taboo to be touching his most private part, which made it all the more exciting to him, and all the more arousing for me.

Patrick's own little cocklet was throbbing with the same pleasure as the cock he was stroking, his little pecker being sucked by a horny, half-drunk teenage boy, a boy lover in training, while the boy pumped his own stiff cock, the largest of the five boys, in and out of the ass of my oldest son for the second time that evening, driven by raging teenage hormones. While he was being fucked, Eddie was being sucked, also for the second time that evening, the first time having been by the teenager who was now fucking his ass, and the present time by the twenty-three year-old mastermind of this evening and mentor of the teenage boy. The handsome, dark-haired, blue-eyed ringmaster of this orgy sucked on my oldest boy's cocket hungrily and with expertise, and from the gleam in those penetrating eyes he was getting as much pleasure out of sucking my boy's cocklet as my boy was getting out of having it sucked. Eddie himself had sucked Dimitri's monster and the dink of Dimitri's seven-year-old protege twice so he knew the pleasure that he was feeling getting sucked was the same pleasure as he'd brought the other two.

While Dimitri sucked the cock of my oldest son, he was ramming his own monster cock in and out of the anus of my youngest child. At three years of age, Willie had to be feeling split in half as the man's long, thick cock rammed in and out of his tight asshole. Loosed by an evening of sex and generously lubed, his asshole still had to feel on fire as Dimitri pumped his hips to and fro, sinking his long cock deep up my son's rectum and then drawing it back out until his knob was stretching open the boy's sphincter. Willie was gasping and snorting, but whether it was from the fucking he was getting, or from me sucking on his little cocktail weenie I do not know. It was the third time he'd been sucked that evening, having already been sucked by Domi and Dimitri. How he felt now being sucked by his father while his father sat there jacking himself off I could not be certain, but I guessed, and hoped, that he was squirming and gasping for breath out of pleasure, and part of that pleasure was from having his cocklet sucked.

For the fourth time that evening the seven of us came. Patrick, Eddie, Willie, and Domi shuddered and danced with their fourth dry orgasm that evening, an experience unknown by my three sons prior to the arrival of our guests this afternoon. The four boys arched their backs and whimpered with the mysterious, overpowering pleasure jolting through their groins and causing their swollen dinks to itch and burn. For the fourth time that evening, Justin, Dimitri and I shot our loads. Justin, having been jerked off by my youngest, sucked off by my middle child, and having fucked my oldest, was now shooting his juice up the rectum of my oldest for the second time, adding his juice to his earlier slime. Dimitri had been jerked off by Patrick twice and sucked by Eddie, and was now squirting his load up the ass of my youngest boy. Myself, I had been jerked off by my oldest boy, I had fucked my middle child, I been sucked off by my youngest along with Dimitri's seven-year-old child-in-training, and I was now being watched by my three boys as I jacked myself off and added my wad to the sticky, sodden handkerchief on the coffee table. Despite all we had done that evening, I felt surprisingly self-conscious as I sat there on the floor and squirted my cum into the handkerchief and milked out my remaining juice in front of my sons.

Hot and sweaty, we sprawled out on the carpet and on the sofa and chairs, each of us lost in thought as we relished the pleasure we had just engaged in and as our breathing returned to normal. It was long past the bedtime of my three sons. My mind jumped from one of my boys to the other as I thought what all had happened to them this evening. I glanced at them sprawled out around me, naked, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, their cocks limp once again. They stared out into space, each lost in his own thoughts, pleasant ones I hoped though I had no way of telling. Justin was sprawled out in my chair, one leg hooked over the arm, his teenage cock flaccid and damp, his downy cheeks flushed. Domi was curled up with Patrick, his arm about the boy and their backs leaning against the sofa, Patrick resting his head on the older boy's chest. Dimitri was sitting on the sofa and surveying the rest of us with that dead-eyed look and deep in thought.

"You know, Ed. All of your boys have been fucked, but only one has fucked someone else," he observed.

I glanced at my three boys. That was true. Actually, Willie had been fucked twice this evening, once by Domi and once by Dimitri, and Eddie also, both times by Justin. Patrick had only been fucked once, by myself, and he was also the only one of the three boys who had taken the dominant role, having fucked, of all people, Dimitri.

"So, Patrick, who would you like to try fucking next?" Dimitri asked.

He didn't hesitate. He looked at Domi and smiled, and Domi returned the smile.

"Willie?'

Willie glanced at each of us, torn by the decision. Justin wiggled his eyebrows at the boy. Willie smiled and pointed at him.

"Well, Eddie, I guess that leaves you and your dad."

From the look in his eyes, Eddie was receptive to the idea, but apprehensive and uncertain how I felt about it. The two of us were close, but this was hardly the father-son bonding normally engaged in by fathers and sons, and where it did occur the roles were usually reversed. I smiled reassuringly and nodded my head almost imperceptibly and you could see the relief in his eyes though he was still apprehensive. What thoughts had to be going through his young mind in anticipation of fucking his own father? I know most people reading this will think me the sickest, filthiest pervert possible, but the thought of being mounted by my eight-year-old son and penetrated by his little, seven centimetre dick had my own cock itching.

"Why don't the six of you start right from the beginning, with foreplay, like Domi and Willie demonstrated for all of us." God, that seemed so long ago, and was a great idea.

Patrick and Domi took the lead, Domi accustomed to performing on Dimitri's command and eager to engage a boy younger than himself, which at the age of seven limited his choice of partners. Sitting there side by side on the floor, the two boys embraced and their lips met in a long, tender kiss that had my own cock swelling. As Patrick caressed his back, Domi kissed Patrick's cheek and nibbled on his ear and then proceeded to kiss his neck and his chest and finally fastened his lips about one of his nipples and sucked on it. Patrick arched his back and ran his fingers though the boy's thick, black hair as his nipple burned and grew hard in the other boy's mouth and his dicklet began to rise. Watching a five-year-old becoming aroused has to be one of the hottest things in the world, and even more so when that five-year-old is your son. Twisting around and straddling Patrick in front of the sofa, Domi took his limp but swelling cocklet in his mouth and began to suck on it. Laying on his back under Domi, Patrick raised himself on his elbows and ran his tongue up the older boy's ass crack and began to lick and suck on his asshole as he'd seen Dimitri rim his younger brother and Justin rim his older brother, and as he had earlier rimmed Dimitri and been rimmed by myself. My son, licking ass, willingly and eagerly.

Willie had joined Justin over in my chair and sitting in his lap he had been caressing the teenager's smooth chest and Justin had been fiddling with his dicklet as the two of them kissed. Willie snuggled down to suck the older boy's nipples, causing the teenager to squirm with arousal. Justin then rolled over and knelt on the seat and raised himself on one of the arms and Willie squirmed under him and between his legs to sit on the other arm. Grasping the teenager's hips, he bent forward and ran his tongue up the teenager's crack, pausing at his hole and licking the pink pucker. Fastening his lips to the boy's asshole, he sucked on it and then inserted his tongue and the older boy squirmed and arched his back with pleasure. I had raised two ass-licking, hole-sucking little perverts! Slipping his middle finger in his mouth and wetting it, Willie placed the tip against the teenager's asshole and I watched as he slowly inserted it up the boy's rectum and began to finger fuck him as if it was something he'd been doing all his life. The older boy's cock rose and jutted out with arousal despite having come four times already that evening.

I was sitting in the sofa chair my wife normally sits in and Eddie joined me and sat in my lap. Wrapping his arms about my neck he bent his head and kissed me. His lips were smooth and hot and his breath smelled of dink and barbecue potato chips and beer. As we kissed he entwined his fingers in my chest hairs and I ran my fingers down over his stomach and smooth pubes and cupped his tiny, sweaty balls and gingerly rolled them in their loose sack. Raising him so he was sitting on the arm of the chair, I kissed his thin, smooth chest and I licked first one and then the other nipple, causing them, and his little dicklet to become firm. I glanced at my other boys.

Domi had taken one of the cushions off the sofa and was lying on the floor on his back with his hips raised on the pillow. Patrick had knelt between the seven-year-old's legs and was grasping his raised knees, his little noodle, as long and thick as my little finger, stiff and ready. As I sat there and watched, my most experienced boy whom I myself had fucked and who had fucked the only other adult in the room, slipped his cocklet up the ass of his seven-year-old guide. Five years and four months, he was about to have his second piece of ass that evening.

Taking the lead of the two boys, Justin had slipped off my chair and was lying on his back on the floor in front of it, his hips raised on the seat cushion, and my youngest son was kneeling between his legs, his little cocket obscenely stiff and uncharacteristically jutting up in the air. Reaching around and taking it in his fingers, Justin guided him as Willie shuffled forward and again as I watched inserted his little penis in the teenage boy's anus. Three years and ten months old and he had his dink up another boy's asshole and was about to engage in his first fuck while most boys his age were being scolded for playing with themselves and wondering why.

Turning my attention back to Eddie, I too slipped off the sofa chair and onto the carpet, and I too took the seat cushion and used it to raise my ass. As I spread apart my legs, my son knelt between them, his stiff cock, as long and thick as my thumb, jutting up obscenely above his dangling balls and parallel to his hairless pubes. Dropping to his elbows, he leaned forward and I felt his hot, moist tongue slip up my hairy ass crack and begin to lick my anus. My eight-year-old son was rimming my asshole! Three delightful, little ass-licking pervs! My cock twitched with arousal, the result of the obscene thought and feeling my son's hot, smooth lips press against my hole in a perverted kiss, and began to rise as my boy's tongue wormed up into my rectum. Straightening up, Eddie shuffled closer, his lips pressed tightly together and his brow furrowed as he concentrated on what he had to do. I felt the tip of his cocklet, like the tip of a red-hot poker, probing along my taint and I raised my hips a fraction higher. He could not see our connection but when the tip of his dick found my asshole he could feel the difference and the expression on his face lightened and my cock twitched at the sight. He pressed forward and I opened up my hole and felt my son's little pecker enter my rectum.

He pushed forward until his smooth pubes were pressed against my balls and his seven centimetre dink was buried up my rectum. Reaching out and grasping my hips with his hot little hands, he began to pump his hips, easing his throbbing little cocklet in and out of my hot, moist hole. Having been fucked by Justin twice, he was now experiencing for his first time what it was like to penetrate another person's ass with his stiff, aching dink. That other person was his dad, and as I felt his little dink slipping in and out of my asshole and as I watched the studious concentration on his face, my cock twitched with arousal and delight. I was being fucked, by my eight-year-old son, and the pleasure was beyond all description and beyond all expectation.

My boy was experiencing his first piece of tail, and it was with me! It was the perfect position and I lay there on my back looking up at my naked child, his cheeks flushed with sexual arousal, his rosy lips parted and his eyes closed, his feathery eyelashes fluttering, as he inhaled and exhaled deeply with the exertion of fucking, and the intense pleasure pulsating between his legs. Having been fucked twice this evening, he knew now how the other boy had felt, and having had a teenage boy's cock up his ass, he knew how I had to be feeling, except instead of him and a teenage boy, this was him and his father!

The room was again filled with heavy breathing as the six of us gasped and sighed with pleasure. My three sons were on their knees, their dinks up the ass of another male. My three sons were fucking, two of them for the very first time in their lives as the dominant partner, and one of them was fucking me. My chest and belly were rising and falling as I gasped for breath and Eddie gasped for air as he pumped his throbbing, burning dicklet in and out of my rectum. His breathing was growing faster and faster and his thrusts were more and more desperate. He licked his lips, his rosy cheeks flushed, and his eyelids parted and he glanced down at me. I smiled up at him proudly, enjoying his pleasure as much as my own, and he smiled back as his eyes glazed and he began to grunt and snort and tremble with his orgasm, the fifth that evening, and this one with his dink up his father's asshole. I was vaguely aware of my other two sons also snorting with pleasure as they came once again, and I trembled with pure pleasure with my eight-year-old son's orgasm and the orgasms of his two brothers as Dimitri recorded the occasion.

We fell asleep there in the family room, the seven of us naked and exhausted, sprawled out on the carpet, in the two chairs, and on the sofa. I had cum four times that night, something I had not done since my late teens. My balls were drained and ached numbly with their emptiness. Justin and Dimitri had come four times also. The fragrance of a dozen loads of cum hung in the air. My three boys had come for the first time that evening, and they had come five times, five dry orgasms each, the last one as the three of them knelt there on the family room carpet not in prayer but fucking ass, their stiff dinks buried up the hot, moist rectum of another male. Filled with sugar and sexual lust, they had engaged nonstop in hours of debauchery, and now they lay there naked and dead to the world, the taste of dick and cum on their lips and in their mouths, the dank musk of dick and sweaty balls and spilt cum in their nostrils and filling their lungs. Their fingers, sticky with another's cum smelled of dink and semen, each with a load of cum in their stomachs and another load up their rectums.

Late the next morning we awoke to the smell of bacon and blueberry pancakes and maple syrup which we devoured plateful after plateful and washed down with chilled orange juice, sitting at the kitchen table naked and served by the man responsible for the previous day's orgy. Dimitri, Justin, and Domi were delighted with the success of the previous day and were in high spirits. Dimitri was of course a boy lover and was delighted to have seen the five boys, Justin and Domi and my three sons, engage freely and willingly in sex with each other and with him and I. Domi had said he was learning to be a boy lover like his uncle and that he wanted to be one, and having introduced two boys younger than himself to the joys of homosexual sex and engaged in sex with them, he was overjoyed with the experience. Justin's relationship with the other two was never stated, but I assumed he too was being groomed by Dimitri, and that Dimitri was his lover and he was the man's willing disciple. A month away from his fifteenth birthday, his body throbbed with lust and testosterone.

Dimitri felt strongly that all boys should be free to explore their sexuality with other boys and with men, and he had no love nor patience with those who prevented them from doing so. As we talked during the day I came to realize just how deeply he hated those who preached otherwise and who prevented boys from enjoying such pleasure. He told me later in the day that it was his intention to foster the latent lust for young boys that he believed lay dormant in the teenage boy Justin and in his young nephews, a lust that others would deny and suppress. His goal, he said, was to develop in them the same unshakable belief in the righteousness of boy love as he had, to make them, in his words, his disciples of boy love. He even confessed that this weekend was a major step in their tutelage, thanks to me. When he told me that, his eyes blazed with a zeal that frightened me, and when he expressed how grateful he was and what great plans he had for me and my boys in his fight I became very frightened. The man had scared me the first time we had met, and as I sat there listening to him I was filled with dread, for myself, and for my three sons and I wondered again just what I had gotten myself, and my sons, into.

My fears and regret rose and fell throughout the day, surfacing when I was alone and was able to think rationally about what was happening, and quickly forgotten with the rise of lust and the powerful physical pleasure of engaging in the taboo and until this weekend purely imaginative fantasies I never expected to experience. It was a roller coaster day of lows of regret, guilt and shame and highs of ecstasy, pride and physical stimulation. The day was one long orgy well into the wee hours of the next morning. The previous day each of my three sons had brought me off, having been jerked off by my oldest, Eddie, sucked off by my youngest, Willie, and having fucked my middle child, Patrick, and my three boys had watched me jerk myself off. I had also brought each of my three sons off,.having jerked off and sucked off Willie, sucked off Patrick, and having been fucked by Eddie.

Part of the day was orchestrated by Dimitri, all part of his overall plan of grooming his two disciples in boy love, and of using me and my sons to fulfill his objectives. He said it was to fulfill my fantasies, and to bring out the natural inclination of my boys, but he did not strike me as the type of man who was concerned about others. Quite the contrary. Every thing Dimitri did benefited Dimitri. The rest of the day fell into place naturally and was orchestrated by my three sons or Dimitri's two disciples, and at times, yes, even initiated by myself. When it was initiated by Dimitri or myself I felt pangs of guilt and shame, but when my boys joined in with unbridled glee and ended up groaning and jerking with unabashed pleasure, I had to question the validity of those guilty feelings. To be truthful, when things came together naturally as a result of the youthful enthusiasm and curiosity of boys I had to question the dread and hesitation I felt regarding Dimitri's plans and the role he had in mind for me and my sons. Seeing the pleasure radiating in their faces, a man should be eager to be part of their joy and be gratified being the cause of it.

One of those natural occurrences came shortly after breakfast when my three sons formed a jerk circle all on their own. I sat and watched as they sat there in a circle in the middle of the family room, just like they had hundreds of times in the past playing cards or board games, but this time buck naked and instead of reaching for a deck of cards Willie reached over and began to play with his brother Patrick's dink while Patrick reached over and began to fiddle with Eddie's dick, and Eddie completed the circle, reaching over and beginning to stroke Willie's little cocklet. Each openly and without reservation touched his brother's private parts and allowed his brother to touch his. They slowly and gently stroked each other's prick, drawing back the foreskin and slowly pushing it back up and sending ripples of pleasure up the flaccid flesh. Each of them slowly stiffened and they sat there, watching the fingers stroking their dick, glancing to the right to watch the stiff dink they were stroking, and glancing to the left to watch the dink of the boy stroking them being stroked. Their dicks were too small to wrap a fist around them and they used a thumb-and-first-two-fingers stroke on each other.

Their eyes were bright and focussed, their cheeks flushed, and their rosy lips parted as they delighted in the pleasure their brother was creating between their legs, and in the pleasure of bringing their brother the same throbbing, mysterious pleasure. As passions slowly grew they slowly speeded up, pumping their fists with determination and joy, the pressure developing in their groins as their bodies responded to the caressing of their most sensitive spot. All three were erect and flushed and one by one each brought the other off and they smiled at each other knowingly as each twisted and gasped with that pleasure that only a boy can know. Seeing that pleasure, is it not much better to encourage such play instead of curbing it and making a boy feel dirty or ashamed of touching himself there, or wanting to be touched and to touch another?

By the time they were done the rest of us were stiff, resulting in Justin, Dimitri and I engaging in our own jerk circle, Justin sitting down beside me and reaching for my cock and me reaching over and wrapping my fingers about Dimitri's monster. It felt wildly exciting having a teenage boy wrapping his fingers about my stiff cock and I thought back to when I was fourteen and experimenting jacking off with a couple of my closest buddies, the three of us sitting in a circle but doing ourselves, and occasionally when there was just two of us daring to "try" each other's. As his fingers slipped up and down my bone, I wondered how often he used his jerkoff hand on himself and the thought of those slender fingers wrapped about my cock wrapped about his own made my cock throb twice as hard. Dimitri's cock being almost three finger widths longer than mine and a finger thicker, it felt totally different jacking it off than jacking off my own dick. He was a man, but ten years my junior, and jacking off his big dick was just as exciting as doing the dick of a boy.

I'd had many fantasies regarding my three sons, but never had I imagined I'd be sitting on the floor of our family room being watched by the three of them as a fourteen-year-old boy jacked me off while I jerked off a man ten years my junior. What were they thinking watching their father engaged in that basic but taboo pleasure, particularly after being told it was wrong to touch yourself and even worse to touch someone else or to be touched by someone else? Like my sons, I watched the teenage hand pumping up and down my cock, another hand doing what mine usually did feeling so much different, and I glanced at my hand pumping the thick shaft of who was still basically a stranger despite what had happened between us, and at his hand jerking off the cock of the teenager jacking me off. My cock throbbed and the knob itched with pleasure, the same pleasure as Jason and Dimitri were both feeling, and again, that knowledge that what I was feeling between my legs was the same as what they were feeling made it all the more erotic.

My jeans laying on the floor nearby, I nodded to them and Domi, understanding my intent, quickly fished my handkerchief out of the pocket and handed it to me. Jason was the first to cum and I held the handkerchief in front of his stiff cock and he spurted his load into it and from the amount he squirted you would never have guessed he'd emptied his balls the night before. Watching the teenager squirting into my handkerchief brought me over the edge and I came next, adding my puddle of slime to his, and I too shot as if I'd not come for a week. He was still milking my dick when Dimitri shuffled closer and added his cum to the handkerchief and I proceeded to milk him dry also. I glanced at my three boys and found them watching me intently, their eyes bright as they watched my slime oozing out of my swollen cock as the teenage boy milked it.

That afternoon I watched my three boys sprawl out and engage in a daisy chain, Eddie sucking on Patrick's dick while Patrick sucked on Willie's and Willie sucking on Eddie. Again it had been initiated by the three boys and as I watched them lying there sucking on each other's stiff cock I realized this was the beginning of a totally new relationship between the three of them. They had always been close as brothers, Willie now in his trusting threes worshipping Patrick and mimicking everything he did, and Patrick mimicking Eddie and copying him as a five-year-old does worshipping his older brother. Eddie took great joy and pride in being the leader of the three boys. Of course they had their disagreements, and their individual interests, and squabbled with each other as all brothers do, but they also came to each other's defence and celebrated each other's achievements. Now they were laying there sucking on each other's cock and bringing each other pleasure, the same pleasure as their other brother was bringing them. Again the rest of us sat there and watched the three of them, and grew hornier by the second. Soon the three of them were squirming and gyrating with their dry orgasms and the rest of us were stiff.

Again Justin, Dimitri and I followed the lead of the three boys, laying where they had been laying, and my three boys watched as I took Justin's stiff pecker and slipped my lips over it and he took Dimitri's dick in his. I was amazed to watch him deep throating the monster almost right down to the base. He had to have had a lot of practice sucking the man's dick and I wondered just how long he had been Dimitri's "man" and how the two of them had come to know each other. Dimitri was clearly experienced in sucking cock also as he slipped his lips about my stiff cock and went down on me. Again the pleasure of having a man sucking on my pecker and sliding his lips up and down over my knob and up and down my shaft was undescribable, but even more erotic was knowing that my three sons were sitting there in a circle around us watching another man sucking their father's cock, and watching their father sucking the pecker of a fourteen-year-old boy.

From as far back as I can remember teenage boys turned me on, back when I was also a teenager, when I was a young man going to college and dating, later as a married man, and now as a father. My marriage was happy and I had an active and satisfying sex life with my wife. I don't know why, but I simply found sex with teen and preteen boys more arousing and more satisfying. The opportunities for the latter was almost nonexistent and I had to satisfy that lust with photos and erotica, but as I've already mentioned, those two pleasures and substitutes for the real thing had become almost impossible to access. On the one hand, that was fortunate, since if I had still been able to satisfy my urges that way I would probably have never dared followed Dimitri and his nephew into the woods at the Glenmore cruise area, and if I had not done that I would not be seeing the fantasies I had regarding my boys realized this weekend. The curtailing of good erotic porn featuring teenagers or child porn involving teens and adults is also unfortunate. In its absence, I have been forced to seek the real thing. As I've already mentioned, the opportunities to find willing or curious teenage boys was almost as rare as finding preteens, and the consequences if caught are enough to curtail such cruising, though the pleasures to be found and the existence of willing boys were still enticing enough for me to continue searching.

Now I was sucking the throbbing, slender cock of a teenage boy, a horny, willing teenage boy. I was unabashedly sucking on his pecker and sliding my lips up and down its length from his curlies to the tip of his bulb in front of my three sons. And he was sucking cock just as eagerly and the man he was sucking was just as eagerly sucking my cock. The pleasure throbbing between my legs was doubled feeling the stiff, slender pecker of the teenage boy throbbing between my lips, and that pleasure was tripled with the though of my three boys eagerly watching me. As Jason began to wiggle I knew he was close and seconds later he began to squirt in my mouth. I immediately began to swallow his hot, thick slime, and as I felt it oozing down my throat I too could no longer keep still and began to twist and jerk as I also climaxed and shot my load into Dimitri's mouth, triggering his climax so he began to fill Jason's mouth with his slime as the teenage boy was filling my mouth with his. From the gulping and the bobbing of Adam's apples, the boys watching us had to know what was happening, and the thrill of knowing my three sons were watching me swallowing the slime of the teenage boy whose dick I was sucking and squirting my own load into the mouth of the man sucking me multiplied my pleasure further. As I finally sat up, my stiff dick oozing out a final pendant of cum, the cum that had it been deposited in their mother could have become their brother, and my lips glistening with the teenage slime I had swallowed, my eyes met those of my three sons and the look of understanding and acceptance on their faces gave me the greatest pleasure of all.

Before supper I watched Eddie and Patrick as they sat on the sofa cuddling and kissing. As Patrick slipped down and took Eddie's teat in his mouth and began to suck on it, Eddie reached down and fiddled with his younger brother's dick, pulling the foreskin back and running the tip of his finger around the rim, causing Patrick to squirm and jerk with the arousal. Lying on his back, Patrick took his older brother's dick in his mouth and began to suck on it while Eddie took his younger brother's dick in his mouth and did likewise. Watching the two boys stimulating each other got my own cock swelling and their youngest brother crawled up into my lap and reached down and began to stroke me. I thought his two brothers were going to end up sixty-nining, but to my surprise, Patrick snuggled down the sofa so his legs were dangling over the arm of the sofa. Eddie swung around and slipping off the sofa, he stood by the arm between his younger brother's legs and he bent over and spreading them apart and raising them, he licked his younger brother's asshole, causing him to squirm and his stiff little pecker to wag with excitement.

While Willie and I watched, Eddie wormed his tongue into his brother's anus, and then straightening up and shuffling forward, he placed the tip of his stiff pecker in his brother's saliva-slick hole. Grasping his hips, he pressed forward, slowly sinking his stiff cock up Patrick's rectum and as Willie resumed stroking my stiff cock I watched my two sons begin to fuck, Patrick laying on the sofa on his back with his hips raised on the arm and Eddie standing between his raised legs and smiling down at him as he pumped his pecker in and out of his hole. I'd had many fantasies about my boys, but being jerked off by my youngest child while watching his oldest brother fucking his other brother had not been one of them. When the two boys snorted and gasped with their orgasms, Willie caught my cum in my handkerchief, adding to my previous loads, and as I watched he raised his jerkoff hand and smelled it joyously before licking off the streamer of my cum that had laced his index finger instead of squirting into the handkerchief.

We barbecued again and that evening the boys once again stuffed themselves with chips and downed sodas as if they were drinking water and Justin and Eddie shared several cans of beer. At one point I watched as Eddie fucked his youngest brother as Patrick knelt on the floor between my outspread legs and sucked my cock. When Eddie spasmed with his orgasm, I arched my back and groaned with pleasure as I filled Patrick's mouth with my cum and as he eagerly swallowed my slime as he quivered with his own orgasm, having jerked himself off while sucking my dick. The day ended with Eddie and I embracing and kissing and fondling each other and then me mounting my oldest son while my two youngest sons watched. I jerked him off while I fucked his ass, and I waited until he was squirming with his dry orgasm and his little cocket was throbbing between my fingers before I squirted my hot, thick cum up his tight little ass. It had been a long, long time since I had cum five times in one day and when I finally fell asleep my nuts were drawn up tight and empty at the base of my cock.

Young Domi was supposedly having a sleep over these past two nights with a fellow scout, the other boy's father having made arrangements with Domi's father and covering for the boy's absence if necessary. What Dimitri had on the fellow to agree to such a lie I could only imagine. Justin was supposedly having a sleep over with a young friend of his by the name of Jeremy, Dimitri having posed as Jeremy's father talking to Justin's father over the phone. I wondered how often these arrangements were being made and how Domi and Justin felt about such lies. As I drifted off to sleep, I realized perhaps I should be wondering what the two boys felt about adults who were forcing them to live such lies.

When I woke up Sunday morning, Dimitri, Domi and Justin had gone. I cleaned up the house and got rid of the pizza boxes and the cans of soda and beer, and I had a long talk with my boys, ensuring that they understood that what had happened this weekend was our secret, and that they were under no circumstances to mention it to anyone else, including their mother. I especially emphasized that with Willie and Patrick considering their ages but they seemed to understand the importance of that, and that what we had done this weekend was not the norm between fathers and sons. The three boys promised me they would say nothing, and assured me they were all right with what we had done. Willie observed that it had been "fucking awesome" and his two brothers quickly agreed. A father develops a sense that tells him if his children are lying, and I was confident that they were telling me the truth, which was a great relief. The last thing I wanted was for my boys to feel any guilt or shame over what we had done.

When my wife returned home and asked how we had made out, my boys brightly told her we had barbecued and had played games, exchanging knowing looks and having a strange inflection when they said "games". I had perhaps overdone it with the cleaning because she observed that she had expected to come home to a mess and was pleasantly surprised how clean the house was. The only slip was not noticing the second of the two wadded handkerchiefs which had slipped behind my chair, and which she had discovered and picking up gingerly between thumb and index finger and wrinkling her nose, had asked if I was coming down with a cold. The eyes of my three boys widened and their jaws dropped as she stood there daintily holding the wadded handkerchief, and they exchanged knowing grins with each other and with me and suppressed their giggles as she left the room to dispose of the evidence in the laundry hamper.

That evening as I turned in and lay there beside my wife, I thought about the blaze in Dimitri's eyes when he had called me and my sons his generals in his fight for a worldwide movement for boy love. I thought about the undescribable pleasure I had experienced having sex with my three boys, and the guilt and shame that had accompanied it and that I now felt now the lust had subsided. I also thought about the note Dimitri had left telling me the three of them had gone to church and that while he was there he'd put in a good word for me, and saying we'd have to arrange for another all-guy getaway soon. I did not know how to feel about that.

Chapter 20
Old wounds and new ones – Part 1 of 2

Detective Mike reluctantly returns to ICE when asked to check out recent sexual luring.  Interviewing Dimitri and his father brings back memories and flashbacks.  Dimitri hints his son Dany was gay curious.  Posing as a pedo Mike is taken to a school where a mother and father have been invited expecting a panel on transsexual rights and public toilets and instead witness the corruption and molestation of their children by the sound boy Woody, a masked guest in a burqa, Mike and three stage hands.

Characters: Emily 14, brothers Brayden 10 and Dylan 9, Kaylee 13, Alyssa 12, Christian 8, Woody 16, Mike Kryvchuk 48, Stranger 23

Codes: reluct dom ws mt mb mm tb bb fb gb

Author's Note: "Dimitri's Return" is a sequel to the story "Retribution" written by this author and originally posted February 2008. Many of the events in this chapter and the next refer to that initial story.

"This is a very sick joke."

"It is no joke."

"You can't be serious."

"I am. Very serious."

"I can't do it."

"I know how difficult what I'm asking will be, but you're the only one who can do this."

"You don't understand. I can't."

"Why not?"

"I transferred out of the ICE Unit eight-and-a-half years ago."

"I realize that."

"You know why."

"Yes."

"Then how the fuck can you sit there and ask me to do such a thing?"

"It's been eight and a half years."

"Nothing's changed. Not for me."

"That's just it. You have the instinct for this sort of thing, Mike."

"I'm out of practice."

"It will come back to you. You can be brought back up to speed."

"There are plenty of others. Why me?"

"We are certain he is the perpetrator, but we can't prove it. You know the Savalos's, Mike. You know their son."

"Huh! Oh yes, I know them! And they know me!"

"Precisely."

"Don't you understand? That's all the more reason it can't be me. Aristotle Savalos hates me, with a passion. He blamed me for his son's assault and disappearance back then, and he still does. The incident turned him into a cop-hater. He feels the police didn't do enough to find his boy and he has lost all faith, and respect, in the police force. You'll get nowhere using someone from the force to talk to him. And Dimitri? My God man, the last I saw the boy was the night he'd been repeatedly physically and sexually abused before my eyes in my own living room. You casually say I know him? We were forced to have sex with each other! He was only fourteen and I was thirty-nine for fucksake! Can you imagine the memories that meeting me is going to dredge up for him, not to mention for myself? And . . . and you expect me to question him about the assaults that have been happening now? I can't do it! I'm definitely the wrong man."

"I realize the emotional stress this will put him through, and you. But it's that emotional bond between the two of you that I'm hoping will make the questioning easier–."

"Easier! You're out of your fucking mind!"

"Yes, easier. Easier for you than for some stranger to broach this matter with the Savalos family. Actually meeting the boy could help in his healing, and in healing for you too. It might bring some closure–."

"Closure? You sound like the shrinks they sent me to nine years ago. In fact don't deny it. You've been talking to them." The captain did not deny the accusation. "You don't get it. None of you do. Nothing can bring closure to what happened to me! My son is gone. You think dredging up what happened nine years ago next month is going to bring closure? And healing!" I spat. "It's been eight years and six months since I transferred out of the ICE Unit, and there still isn't a night that goes by that I don't have nightmares of that night Brown and Iqbal invaded my home, or a day that goes by that I'm not haunted by the thousands of vile images of child abuse and exploitation I had to view while I was with the unit."

"And if it wasn't for the work you did and the work others are doing today the number of perpetrators would be that much higher." Our eyes met. He was right and I knew it. So was I, and he knew it too. Stalemate.

I have done many difficult things, but I don't think I've done anything as difficult as walk those sixteen metres up to the Savalos's front door that hot afternoon that first week of August. Mrs. Savalos met me at the door, wiping her hands on her apron. She looked the same as she had nine years ago. "You," she said coldly. "Aris!" She turned and walked away before I could say anything. Her husband showed up moments later.

"Aris." He said nothing. The hatred and anguish in his eyes had not dimmed since I'd last seen him almost nine years ago. "I need to talk to Dimitri."

"To ask his forgiveness? He has been home for nine months. What has taken you so long?" His voice was cold, measured. I knew the temper he was capable of. I had been the object of it.

"There have been incidences. I need to ask him some questions."

"Incidences?" he asked, his voice rising. "Is that what it is called now? Incidences? What do they have to do with my son?" He did not wait for an answer. "It does not matter. He is not home."

"It is all right, Poppa. I will answer Sargent Kryvchuk's questions."

When I had last seen Dimitri Savalos he had been a handsome, fourteen-year-old boy with bright, sparkling eyes and the silky wisps of an adolescent moustache at the corners of his upper lip. He was just as good looking, but he was a man now, as tall as I was, and a good twenty-five kilos heavier than when he was a boy, all muscle from what I could tell, and he had a dark five-o'clock shadow though it was just after lunch. His father stood between us, barring my entry. He nodded to the two lawn chairs on the front landing. "You are not welcome in my house," he said simply.

I stepped back and he and Dimitri stepped outside. "It might be more comfortable if Dimitri and I talked alone."

"He is my boy. I stay."

"I have nothing to hide from Poppa," Dimitri observed. His eyes were just as blue and his lashes as long and feathery as I remembered them, but they were no longer bright and alert. They stared at me with chilling blankness. We sat on the two chairs. Aris sat on the steps.

"That . . . that night, the night the two men broke into my home," I began, trying to keep my voice from quivering, "has haunted me every day since." Dimitri just stared at me, or rather, through me, as if he had not heard. "I've gone over it over and over, trying to think what I could have done differently, how I could have, have prevented what happened." He still said nothing. "I am so sorry you were there that night, that you became a target of those two men because of me." I had it memorized, that and much more, and had rehearsed it until I could recite it backwards. I did not think it would be easy, but I was unprepared for his detachment, for his total lack of any emotion. Actually I had expected an outburst of that Greek temper I knew his father had, and I had seen in him as a boy when he'd become passionate about something. I stared at the carpet on the front landing. I knew that it would be pointless to continue that line of conversation. "I want to ask you about a Pastor Milne."

"We have answered those questions," Aris Savalos interjected sharply.

"That is all right, Poppa. I can answer them again."

"I understand you told the detectives who were here that he was 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," I said, referring to the notes I'd made about the interview.

"I said that was what I heard about him, not what I thought of him. I've never met him." I knew that of course. He'd been a bright boy at fourteen, and that had not changed. He was not going to be caught in a slip that easily.

"How does that make you feel, what you've heard about him?"

"That he's a fraud? Or that he takes advantage of those too stupid to know they're being taken?"

"Both."

"God will punish him," he said, glancing at his father. "All who do wrong on this earth will be punished in the hereafter when they meet their Maker." He said it as if he had memorized it by rote, not as if he believed it. He stared at me unblinkingly.

"They have never caught the two men who broke into my home and abused you and Dany and abducted the two of you."

"You're a grandfather you know."

"A grandfather?"

"Dany has a son. Two sons and a daughter. Probably more. Had to happen. After we were kidnapped he was living a teenage boy's dream. All the pussy he wanted, any age, children, teens, mothers, even a few grandmothers. He was fucking his balls off every day–oh, sorry, I forgot."

That was a lie. He hadn't forgotten I'd been castrated just before they left. His lips said he had forgotten, but his eyes said different. He made no effort to hide that it was a lie. Of course he never could tell a lie but this one was avoidable. A little twist of the knife on his part for my role in his ordeal.

"Like I said, it had to happen. They didn't give a fuck if the women they used got knocked up." Aris flinched with the obscenities. Dimitri might be an adult, but he was still his son, his child. "In fact so much the better if they did get knocked up. There's a big market for porn featuring girls who are preggers. Dany and the bitch carrying his child stared in several porn films themselves. The ironic part was that at the age of fourteen I would have given my eyeteeth to get all the tail he was getting. It wasn't to be. It was decided they'd make more money out of me if I was staring in fag porn so I was stuck sucking cock while Dany was getting all the pussy a guy could want when as you know he'd rather be with the guys–oh, I guess maybe you didn't know." He looked straight at me but wasn't really seeing me. That was no slip on his part either. It was a cruel, calculated comment. Dimitri Savalos didn't make slips. He didn't as a teenager, and he wasn't now. Just like his choice of language was to make a point with me, and his father.

"They kept you and Dany together after they kidnapped you?"

"Fuck no. I went with the Paki and his fagot friends. Dany went with Brown. Messed around with pussy all day and got fucked by the Brit all night. He liked it, that night you know." Another twist of the knife. "But when you're in the business we were in you move around, your paths cross, guys talk. We saw each other a couple times. Shared a night with his oldest kid." Cold, matter-of-fact, eyes looking right through you. Shared a night. He didn't have to say anything more. The two of them, and my grandson.

"Where were you July 7^th?"

"Here. Maybe at the Well. I'm on a short leash. You know my sentence and my community service requirement." I nodded.

"You know a Judge Breem?"

He shook his head. "He's not in my social circle."

"Where were you June 11?"

"I dunno. I don't keep an appointment calendar. No need for one."

"He was here. At home," Aris said. Dimitri and I both looked at him. "It was a Sunday. You had guests the night before and Momma had to call you three times for church. After services we came home and had dinner with the family as always. Afterward you went to your room with your tutor. He stayed for supper and then you went to your room. Like every Sunday."

"And when was supper?"

"At six. Like every Sunday."

"The tutor can confirm this?"

"Of course. You think I lie?"

"Of course not. And you can account for your whereabouts June 29^th?"

"That I remember. I spent the afternoon and the evening volunteering at the Well. Had supper there, played cards with the guys, poker. Lost my shirt and my pants. What is this about?"

"There were two boys who were assaulted–."

"And you think I did it." Not a question. A statement.

"We have to rule out all possibilities. The man fits your description. Would you come in for a lineup?"

"Yes," he agreed.

"No," said Aris.

"It is all right, Poppa. I have nothing to hide."

On the evening of June 11^th a sixteen-year-old boy near the southwest community of Evergreen was taking a break around 7:00 from biking near Fish Creek Provincial Park when a man engaged him in conversation. He began asking him inappropriate questions and then ended up assaulting him. The boy escaped. Two weeks later, June 29^th, at 6:50 a fifteen-year-old boy biking near the park's Marshall Springs exit was similarly approached by a man of the same description and assaulted, and he too escaped. The description, olive-skin, thick dark hair, and the age, early twenties to early thirties, all fit. We arranged for the lineup. Both boys said Dimitri was definitely not the man. Later, the end of August, we got a breakthrough and the first of September the man was charged, a thirty-three-year-old from Central America. He didn't look at all like Dimitri.

The next week I got a package in the mail. No return address of course. In it was a video. The image was sharp and clear and the sound excellent, very professional. All you could see was a black man, huge, from his waist to his knees, and a white boy, his pure white buttocks and his darkly tanned waist and thighs, his genitals and curly brown hairs, a boy in his early teens. The video showed the man penetrating the boy with his huge cock, close to twenty-three centimetres stiff, and the man fucking him until they both came, the man up the boy's ass, the boy spraying the coverlet on the bed with his thin teen jism, both of them grunting, gasping, and snorting in lust, the boy moaning in ecstasy. There were no words, no faces. Images of Brown fucking Dimitri's ass and milking the rest of his cum over the boy's crotch, of his huge, obscene pecker in Dany's hand, of him taking my boy's hand and leading him up to his bedroom flashed through my mind. I had a tape of Dany playing soccer. The forensic boys could probably compare the sounds to those on the video but I didn't need to. Another turn of the knife. My gut wrenched--I knew who was turning it.

I could hear Dimitri's comment "He liked it that night you know" as if he was sitting there looking at me. "Dany was getting all the pussy a guy could want when as you know he'd rather be with the guys–oh, I guess maybe you didn't know." Dimitri was cold, cruel, calculating, a man without a soul. What had they done to him to make him so? What horror had he lived through to change a confident, positive, wholesome, churchgoing boy into the unfeeling zombie I'd talked to? The video sounded like the boy was enjoying getting his ass fucked. He had ejaculated. Of course I knew how the perverts and pedos doctored those pictures and videos to make it look like the boys were enjoying what they were doing. I thought back. There was nothing, nothing at all, no hints, no behaviours, no comments, to suggest Dany was interested in boys in no other way than the natural comradery between boys. There was nothing to suggest even that he was curious, and in my job, I'd been trained to notice such things. There was nothing. Nothing at all Dimitri had confessed he jacked off once or twice a day and Dany had confessed to three or four times a week. Had they ever done it together? Perhaps done each other? Some boys do. Almost all boys jack off these days. It is difficult for a parent to think of their child as having sexual desires.

The tutor to my surprise was a high school student, almost fifteen. And I discovered the boy also played chess with him once a week in his home, with another boy two years younger. Dimitri was prohibited from frequenting places where children and teenagers go but there was nothing in the court orders about them going to his home. Both boys were nervous and acted suspiciously when interviewed, but they both were adamant that Dimitri had made no untoward advances, the tutor tutored and the three played chess. The parents of both boys were understandably upset and the parents of the older boy angry at me for raising the question, telling me accusingly if their sons had been molested they would have come to them. You don't make a lot of friends in this line of work. Both the tutoring and the chess sessions had been recommended by a teacher at their school, who admitted to knowing Dimitri's history having taught him himself, and he saw him as a victim and his own actions and that of the two boys as helping him lead a normal life. The implication that I was not was clear. He was sincere, and there was nothing on his record to suggest any untoward behaviour on his part. On the contrary, he had an exemplary record and had received several awards and commendations for his teaching and work with youth.

As I had suspected, if I was going to find anything about the current incidences of assault I was going to have to go deeper. So over the next six weeks I went underground, posing as a porn collector and then as a pedo looking for young boys. Once again I mingled with the scum of the city, the pervs and the whores and pimps, the addicts and alcoholics, the mentally unstable, and pretended to be one of them. My skin crawled in their presence, and no amount of showering when I got home made me feel clean again. Once again the nightmares of old and memories of the past returned, just as vivid as they were nine years ago the day Vincent Brown, posing as an inspector from the London-based Child Exploitation and Online Protection centre, and Iqbal Ali Khan, posing as a captain from the Pakistan Child Exploitation Task Force, showed up at my door. I had been instrumental in shutting down a pedo ring calling itself "Boys Light Up The World", the third time it had been dispersed. Brown and Iqbal were not who they said they were, and they were here for retribution. As I've mentioned, they've never been caught.

During my investigation, I heard from several sources that there was a trio operating in the city and according to rumour across the province and even beyond, a European with a thick eastern accent and sinister look, an indigenous American, a giant of a man, ugly as sin and just as mean, and a young, handsome and wiry black man with an insatiable libido. They didn't appear to be part of a larger kiddie sex ring or organized prostitution or to have connections with any other group, but they were mentioned frequently. I expressed my interest in anything and anyone dealing with young boys and finally arranged to meet "a man" but as often happens nobody showed up. Two days later I received a phone call giving me an address and saying if I wanted some action to be there in an hour. I immediately phoned my team and relayed the information. The short notice was typical for this sort of thing and they were on standby and ready to go into action.

The timing was tight but it was doable and I knew if I was tardy I would raise suspicions, and most likely loose the opportunity then and the future. My vehicle was fitted with a tracer for just such a situation should my team be late arriving at the rendezvous. I knew how these things worked and was prepared. The address was a strip mall near Marlborough on the east side of the city. There were two thugs waiting for me and we transferred to their vehicle and took off. They knew how these things worked and were prepared too. I knew the two were hired just as a taxi and wouldn't know anything if apprehended. They took a circuitous route to be sure we weren't being followed and then took me to a middle school not that far away. With the shifting of population, most of the older white population had moved on and had been replaced by a poorer, more disreputable population, mostly black and Hispanic. The back of the building was marked with gang graffiti. There were half a dozen cars in the back parking lot and a van with FYB Studios on the side. I was dropped off at the door and the thugs took off. I glanced at my watch. Five p.m.

A fellow was waiting for me, late teens or early twenties, Hispanic, tattered and stained jeans, jean vest, sinewy and streetwise. He ground the cigarette he was smoking on the pavement and we went inside and down the hallway to a classroom. There were ten student desks arranged in a semicircle in the front of the room. Sitting in three on the left were three young girls who looked to be between twelve and fourteen. White girls. From the quality of their clothes they were not from this neighbourhood. They were nervous and uncomfortable and looked bewildered. Next was a woman in her late thirties, very businesslike and well dressed with an excess of makeup, and two fresh-faced boys of about nine and ten, well groomed and well dressed, too well dressed for this neighbourhood also. Beside them was a boy of eight with thick, curly blond hair looking like he would rather be anywhere but there and beside him a stern-looking man about the same age as the woman with close-cropped sandy-coloured hair and with a bit of a paunch and wearing dress pants and dress shirt and tie. At the other end of the semicircle sat a Moslem woman dressed in a black burqa. I took the remaining seat between her and the man.

Facing the group behind the teacher's desk was a man in his mid-twenties in neatly pressed dress pants, pinstriped shirt and glasses, looking very much like a beginning teacher or the junior news reporter on the eleven o'clock news. There were pitchers of cherry punch and bowls of salted peanuts on each of the desks. FYB Studios had to be doing well. There were three expensive movie cameras on tripods, two men operating expensive-looking still cameras, a ring of floodlights, lapel microphones for everyone, and a sound box in the corner out of sight with a sound man in a hoodie and dark glasses that looked like he was in high school and three other assistants including the man who had been waiting at the door for me.

"Well, we are all here," the young man behind the teacher's desk said and the cameraman in the middle focussed on him. "When I point at you please say 'I am glad to be here' so our sound man can test our sound equipment. We each did, starting with the girls. After I spoke he skipped the woman in the burqa and began. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls," he said, standing up and slowly looking about the room. "And to all of you turning in from cyberspace," he said, addressing the centre camera. "This is Ross Moiyer from FYB Studios broadcasting live tonight from Marlborough Middle School in Northeast Calgary. Our discussion tonight is on the current hot topic here in Alberta and much of the rest of Canada and the United States, the topic of Transsexual Rights and Private Toilets." The cameramen zoomed in on the topic printed on the white board behind him to his right. "Or," he continued, stepping to the left and detaching the flip chart paper to reveal on the board behind, "Where Does a Poor Trannie pee?" Below the title was a crude sketch of two boys with exaggerated penises half-turned at a urinal and urinating on the floor as they looked at a very well endowed girl with her legs crossed. The three girls glanced at each other in surprised amusement while the three boys stared at the picture with wide-eyed surprise. The two brothers exchanged quick, repressed grins. The adults accompanying them were not amused. It was impossible to tell the reaction of the woman in the burqa but I could not imagine she was approving.

"In all seriousness, this is a very big issue," he said sombrely. "Well, perhaps not so big in the boys' room in elementary schools," he added with a curl of his upper lip. Again the girls found the comment amusing and had to stifle their giggles. The two adults whose faces I could read were incensed and were glaring daggers at our host. The comment went over the heads of the boys. This was not exactly what I was expecting, but I suspect it was even less than what my fellow adults had expected. "We have with us tonight Mrs. Sandra Kenmore, Chairwoman of the Calgary Family Support Centre. Mrs. Kenmore, the CFSC has criticized the government's recent move to allow transsexual children to choose the gender of the public washroom. They are most comfortable attending. Could you lead off tonight's debate as to what CFSC thinks of this move?"

"Certainly," she replied, taking a long drink of punch and clearing her throat. I took a long drink also. The punch was ice cold and refreshing. I refilled my glass. "First, I would like to thank FYB Studios for hosting this panel and inviting me to speak. I am delighted to present CFSC's objections to this latest move by our liberal-leaning, left-wing government." For the next ten minutes she ranted on and on about how the education department was insisting that all schools allow students to use the washroom of their choice and how the rights of the minority were overriding the rights of the majority and the devastating effects this move was having on her two sons who were being made uncomfortable using their own facilities. The MC finally interrupted her by which time I, and she, had downed three glasses of punch and I had made a considerable dent in the bowl of nuts. One of the stage hands had already refilled the jugs and peanut bowls on the desks of the children.

"I understand you have a classmate who recently came out as a transsexual, is that right?" our MC asked, turning to Mrs. Kenmore's two sons.

"Ah, yeah," said the older of the two brothers.

"When this was announced, what advice did your teacher have for you?"

"Well," he said, looking up at his mother who nodded her assent, "she said that when Katie–Ken that is I guess cuz that's the name we're supposta use–uses the boys' room she–he that is–is supposed to look at the wall, and we're supposed to stand closer to the urinals."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"It's not fair," he said. "We shouldn't have to stand any different. It's our can."

"Yeah," agreed his brother. "We can't go in the girl's can."

"How do you feel about a girl–well, a girl who wants to be a boy–seeing you pee?"

"That would be weird."

"It would make you feel weird?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Would you feel ashamed?"

He looked up at his mother and she nodded again. "No. I'm not ashamed being a boy," he said, squirming in his chair.

"So it wouldn't bother you if these girls sitting beside you walked into the boy's can and saw you peeing."

"No," he said, squirming more. "That's what the can is for."

"Is there something wrong?"

"Well, all this talking about, well, you know, has made me wanna go," he said, his smooth cheeks turning pink as he looked desperately at our moderator.

"You too?" the MC asked his brother and he nodded a most definite yes. He looked at the other boy and he shyly nodded also. "If you went to the boys' can now to pee and these girls walked in on you, you say you wouldn't be ashamed and wouldn't move in closer to the urinals so they can't see."

"That's what the guy's can is for. That's what they should expect to see if they wanna use it," the oldest of the boys said. His mother and the other two boys nodded in agreement. Mrs. Kenmore took another long drink of punch.

"Any of you boys have anything else to say?"

"Yeah. If girls get to watch us, we should be able to watch them," the blond boy said. "We should have just as good rights." He glanced up at his father apprehensively for approval, evidently having just quoted his father. His father pressed the right corner of his lips together and lowered his right eyebrow as he nodded agreement and a hint of pride. From the look on the boy's face he was relieved he'd done well in front of his dad.

"Well I think that's only fair, don't you?" our MC agreed, looking at the girls, who glanced at each other and giggled as they nodded. This was at least going the way they had expected. "Then let's go to the guys' can across the hall and prove it."

"What?" asked Mrs. Kenmore and whom I assumed was the blond boy's father.

"The boy's room is right across the hall. We can find out right now if you are right that a girl watching your sons pee will be embarrassing for them, or if your boys really meant that they didn't care and feel it is their can and they should be able to use it as they wish."

"What is this?" Mrs. Kenmore asked as she shook her head, bewildered and alarmed.

"This is proof which of you is right. Aren't you ready to stand behind what you just told us?" asked our MC.

"Of course I am," she replied indignantly.

"And that talk about not caring wasn't just guy brag talk?" he asked the boys.

The MC was good. He knew just what words to twist to his advantage. The brothers glanced at each other and the older of the two stood. "It was no brag talk," the older boy said defiantly.

"Now just a minute! Brayden, don't," his mother ordered.

"I gotta go. And that wasn't just brag talk."

"Me too," his brother said as he got to his feet. The blond boy followed, from the look on his face compelled by his bladder. Like the older boy said, all this talk was making him want to go. It was making me want to also.

"We can find out right here and now if your boys are really that devastated about being seen peeing as you said," Ross said. "If you're afraid of the truth you can wait here until we come back."

Of course she was not about to let her sons walk off out of her sight, not to do what they intended on doing. So the entire group of us, cameramen included, marched out of the classroom and across the hall to the little boy's room. The cameramen caught the action as the three boys stepped up to the row of urinals. The oldest of the three boys smugly pulled down his fly, and making no effort to cover himself, and in fact standing purposefully a step away from the urinals, he pulled out his penis and immediately began to piss. He'd show them all it was not just bragging, and how far away he could stand besides. The call of the bladder was strong and the other two boys quickly followed suit. The three girls had never been in a boy's can before and were not about to stare at the opposite wall. They made no effort to hide their interest in the room and what the boys were doing. The boys had to go badly and took a long time emptying their bladders. As I watched, the sounds of pissing and the pungent aroma of fresh, hot piss resulted in my own bladder complaining. When they were done, the boys shook themselves off with deliberate exaggeration, tucked in, and smugly turned to look at the girls. Now that the

urgency and the need were over and they had proven their point, they suddenly realized their parents had also been witnesses. They quickly averted their eyes, especially the two brothers.

"What about you girls? You feeling the need?" There was no question that they were. "The boys said it was only fair they watch you, and you agreed that was fair." That was true. "I don't think the stalls are any different from the girl's can are they?"

"This is outrageous!" exclaimed Mrs. Kenmore. "Come boys, we're leaving!"

"No you're not." Ross Moiyer's voice was suddenly not so friendly. "Fair is fair. The boys did their part. It's only right they get a chance to see the girls. Go ahead girls, use the stalls, but keep the door open so the boys can see you."

Whether Kenmore agreed or not did not matter. The three stage hands moved in to block her exit. The girls went into the three stalls, not out of fairness but out of need, and they kept the doors open. The facilities were the same as in the girls' toilets, except for the seats. While the girls' were oval-shaped, the boys' were U-shaped, being open in front not because of any great endowment on behalf of middle school boys, but because their aim was not so cautious. Using the boy's toilets was to the advantage of the boys, who each stood in front of a stall, in that the open seats gave them a much more open view. Needless to say they took advantage of that and each took in the proceedings with keen interest. Blushing a bright red despite their claims not to be embarrassed, the three girls relieved themselves, patted themselves dry, and pulled up their panties. We returned to the classroom and took our seats again.

The gentleman, who was introduced as Ralph Penner, was invited to speak next. Obviously not having expected and very much opposed to what had just happened, he was thrown off balance and flustered, but once he got started he ranted as eloquently as Mrs. Kenmore, his peeve being about parent rights and the LGBTQ agenda to infiltrate the schools and push their agenda, which was to convert innocent, impressionable children not just to support them and their way of life but into becoming one of them. He referred frequently to the increase in effeminate boys and butch girls in today's society as proof of each of his claims. He was passionate about his cause and the longer he spoke the more passionate he became, and he spoke for a very long time. I reached for the peanuts and refilled my glass with punch.

He ranted against the current guidelines set out by the education ministry which mandated gay-straight alliances and prohibited school officials from telling parents if their sons or daughters joined such associations. He reiterated the joke an American politician had made that if they had such rules when he was a boy in high school he would have certainly gotten in touch with his feminine side and told the coach he wanted to change in the girls' locker room. That had not gone well with the transsexual crowd or their sympathizers when the politician had said it but he obviously thought the viewers of tonight's panel were a different crowd. I don't know what he had been told, but it was obviously not a crowd I had been lead to expect. He concluded that his eight-year-old son sitting beside him, Christian, could go to school in the morning, change his name to Chrissie, put on a skirt, and change the pronoun he wished to be used to refer to him, or her that is, and use the girls' washrooms and change rooms without his parents being any the wiser. By the time he was done I'd had two more glasses of punch and had half emptied the bowl of peanuts and had to use the boys' room badly.

"Well, I'm sure our listeners will be interested in the opinion of the rest of the guests we have with us tonight," our MC cut in before Penner got his second wind. "Emily, why don't you introduce yourself and your two friends and explain why the three of you are here?"

Emily, the oldest of the three girls, blushed as everyone turned to look at her. "Ah, well, this is Kaylee," she said, indicating the girl beside her, "and beside her is Alyssa" She hesitated and had to be prompted as to why they were here. "Ah, well," she said, glancing at her companions but getting no help, "I guess we are here like, because, well, like, we're curious."

"Curious about?"

"Ah, well, like about boys."

"What exactly are you curious about boys?"

Emily shifted uncomfortably and looked desperately at her companions.

"Well . . . like how they look . . . you know," volunteered Kaylee.

"How they look?" our MC asked as if confused.

"Well, their, you know," Emily said, turning redder.

"And?" our MC prompted. She hesitated. "What else did you tell me you were curious about before we began?"

Caught, she looked down at the desk and whispered almost inaudibly, "How they did things."

"What sort of things?"

"Well, like pee," she whispered, fascinated by her desktop.

"So how did you end up here?"

She glanced at her friends, and Kaylee took the question. "Well, you know, we were, like, talking to this guy, and stuff. On the Internet. This guy, Woody, sent us a picture of him taking a leak and said he could arrange for us to see for real, if we wanted to."

"And you wanted to, so you came here." The girl nodded. "Did this Woody or anyone else force you to come here?" She shook her head in the negative and so did her two companions. "Threaten you?" Again they shook their heads in the negative. "Promise you anything other than that you could see boys, doing stuff." Again they shook their heads in the negative. "And he's carried through with his promise. You've seen what boys look like, and you've had a chance to see them pee, just like he promised." They nodded again. "Speaking of peeing, does anyone here need to take a pee break before we continue?"

I certainly did. My back teeth were floating. I had a good idea where this was going to lead, but I was not going to be able to hold back much longer. From the way she was squirming and the look on her face, so did Mrs. Kenmore, and from the way he'd been belting back the punch during his presentation, I suspected so did Mister Penner. I raised my hand. So did Brayden. The way he'd been tossing back the punch and gobbling down the peanuts that didn't come as a surprise either. "Brayden," said his mother in annoyance under her breath and with a scowl and shake of her head that clearly said to put his hand down. Our host glanced at Mister Penner.

"This is enough! I don't know what you think you're doing or what you think you're proving, but we're leaving," he announced. "This is not what I had been lead to believe this evening was going to be." He stood and reached for his son's hand. That was a mistake. Two of the stagehands were on him in an instant and slammed him back into his chair none too gently. That had to have jarred the old kidneys.

"Instead of going all the way back to the boys' room, I have a much better idea," our host said. I suspected it was not something he'd just thought of but something that had been planned all along. He picked up the wastepaper basket and placed it in front of the desk. He motioned for Brayden and myself to step forward, and motioned for Penner to also. The man glared at him defiantly. "Well, anyone else?" our host asked as he glanced around the room. The sound boy raised his hand and our host motioned him forward. With his hoodie and dark glasses you could not see much of him but from his downy cheeks, thin wisps of moustache hair at the corners of his mouth, and long, skinny legs, he had to be in his mid-teens as I had initially suspected. He was sporting an emerald stud in his left nostril and a large turquoise one in each ear lobe and a ring in the fleshy section below his lip and above his chin. He had a lopsided smile on his face. The girls exchanged glances, turned on I suppose by his piercings. I don't know much about teenage girls.

"Now," Ross said, smiling at the girls benevolently, or more like a wolf eying the chickens, "you girls are going to get a real bonus tonight. Come join the guys." They did so, hesitantly and uncertainly but not exactly reluctantly. They were directed to stand alternately with the three of us. "You're not only going to get a chance for a closeup look at these guys pissing, but you're gonna get a chance to hold their peckers for them while they do it." They were clearly surprised and clearly embarrassed, but clearly not opposed either.

"This–," began Penner as he started to stand again. He was slammed back in his desk.

Standing on his left, Alyssa was instructed to pull down Brayden's fly and take out his penis, and standing on my left Emily was told to do mine. That left Kaylee and the sound boy. Despite their embarrassment and knowing what they were being asked to do was wrong, the girls knew they had no choice and reached over and pulled down our zippers. Besides, they were curious, and this was an opportunity they would not be getting again. Of course unaccustomed to the task set for them, they had difficulty and were awkward, but eventually they managed to slip their fingers in the flies of our pants and underwear and after some fumbling and exploring locate our limp penises. They awkwardly and not so gently–and actually causing some pain–finally managed to withdraw our organs and were told to hold them and aim them at the paper basket. The sound boy's lopsided grin widened.

Brayden was the first to begin and overshot the basket, soaking the right leg of the sound boy who cursed and jumped back. In her excitement Alyssa directed his stream farther to the right and over the basket and onto the floor, barely missing Emily and creating a sizable puddle before she got it aimed in the basket.

The sound boy was next and Kaylee first sprayed the rim of the metal basket in front of him, his piss splashing back on himself and Kaylee until she got his dick aimed properly. Emily stared at my pecker with keen concentration, not totally out of interest but more because she was determined she was not going to get wet. I wondered what was going through her mind as she felt my stream flowing through my fleshy hose and she aimed it at the basket. The room was filled with the ringing sound of three streams of piss striking and slowly filling the metal pail. I noticed the other two girls were watching the dicks in their hand just as closely, and not totally just out of caution either. When we were done they dutifully milked our dicks and shook them off, more violently than any of us would have but then the only thing they had to go by was the modelling the preteen boys had done earlier. They had an even more difficult time stuffing our organs back in our pants and underwear.

As we returned to our places, Mrs. Kenmore was given the opportunity to squat on the wastepaper basket and she protested loudly and indignantly, saying that was indecent and that she wanted privacy, but given the choice was her last chance and of wetting her panties she relented and flushed crimson with embarrassment, she hiked up her skirt and pulled down her panties and sat on the metal pail and a few seconds later the ringing sound of her stream striking the sides of the metal container and then bubbling into the pool of piss as she adjusted her position announced that she was doing her business. She made no comments regarding the fact her bare ass had to be sitting on the piss-spattered rim of the metal basket. I noticed her two sons were just as embarrassed by their mother relieving herself as she was, but like Christian, they didn't avert their eyes either.

As I sat there and analysed the situation and my options, I noted that our last guest, the woman in the burqa, had not participated in any of this and nor had she been asked. I had noticed during the evening that she had not been availing herself to the punch nor the peanuts and I had assumed it had been because of her head covering, or perhaps some religious thing about consumption in front of others. Given the reasons the other two adults were there, I suspected she, like them, was prepared to speak out against the government's plans also and I wondered just what twist our perverted hosts were going to have for that.

As Kenmore pulled up her panties and awkwardly walked back to her desk, our MC motioned for Penner to take her place and when he refused our MC had two of the stage hands physically drag him to the front of the room. The man had to be about to burst. Calling Emily back to the front of the room, our MC had her feel for the bulge in Penner's trousers and locating the tip, to caress it with her index finger while Penner was restrained by the two assistants. The man squirmed and tensed as he fought nature's call. "Perhaps we need to prime the pump," Ross said with an impish grin. Picking up the wastepaper basket, he reached inside and withdrawing his finger, he dribbled the warm piss where Emily had been rubbing.

"All right! All right!" he cried out.

"Too late," Ross said with mock sadness and nodded for Emily to continue caressing the wet spot.

A second later the dark spot on his neatly pressed trousers began to widen, slowly at first and then quickly. Penner stood there helplessly as the dam burst and the front of his trousers darkened and a streak down his right leg formed. He had to go badly and stood there red with embarrassment as he pissed his pants there in front of his son and the rest of us, a pool of piss gradually forming about his feet. He stared at the floor as he spread his legs and awkwardly walked back to his desk. I had no idea what was going to happen next, but I knew we hadn't seen anything yet.

Chapter 21
Old wounds and new ones – Part 2 of 2

Continuation and conclusion of Chapter 20

"Now tell me, did you girls ask this guy you talked to on the Internet about seeing anything else besides a boy's package and a boy taking a leak?" our host continued once Penner awkwardly returned to his seat. The girls glanced at each other and shifted uncomfortably. They evidently had, and Ross knew. The girls had never said if the boy they had talked to had shown his face and I was beginning to suspect that he had not, and that Ross had been that boy. If he hadn't, he certainly knew the boy and the girls had been purposefully selected and set up for this right from the start. "Now, be honest."

The girls glanced at each other again. By now they had to have figured out Ross knew everything they had said if not suspecting he was the individual they had talked to. "Well, we talked about, like, you know, what a boy looked like when, like, when he was aroused," Emily offered, staring at her desktop.

"Well," said our host with a grin like a cat would give a cornered mouse, "you're going to get to do more than just see what a boy looks like when he's in that condition."

"No!" shouted Kenmore and Penner together. They glanced at each other. "This isn't a debate on transsexuals and washrooms," Kenmore said. "Or about the government and the LGBTQ agenda," added Penner. "This is filth," Kenmore accused, "pure filth." She glared daggers at our MC. "And we've taken enough," concluded Penner. The two stood and were just as quickly slammed down in their seats by the stagehands. So, they had finally caught on, but it was too late. Much too late. As I had suspected, they hadn't seen anything yet. The question facing me was what was I going to do about it?

"You've both had your say about what you think children should be exposed to," said our MC surprisingly calmly. "Now its time for us to see just what our children really want. Now sit and keep your traps closed, or if you can't behave you'll find yourselves gagged and strapped down."

He didn't speak angrily nor loudly, but there was no question he, and his enforcers, meant business. The three girls and three boys had been growing more and more anxious, but they were now definitely frightened. The boys had never heard their parents spoken to like that and you could see the shock and worry in their eyes. I glanced at the woman in the burqa. Behind the mesh her eyes were almost impossible to see. She had not even flinched. If she hadn't gotten up and joined us in the boys' can you would think she was a dummy being used as a prop. As for myself, it was clear what was going on and it had been from the moment we went to use the urinals. This was a live web cam being streamed out to a select audience, just like the web cam Brown and Iqbal had set up to broadcast their invasion of my home and the abuse of my son and Dimitri nine years ago, just like hundreds–no, thousands–of web broadcasts perverts around the world have made and are making to provide live entertainment for other sick shits like themselves who got off watching young children abused or seduced.

This one was just far more elaborate and sophisticated than most. It reflected the backing of big bucks and a smooth, experienced organization. It reminded me of the videos I'd seen of Dimitri shortly after he'd disappeared in regard to the attention to detail, script and plot. They had been polished and professional, not the product of some sick amateur, and nor was this. So, what else did these perverts have in mind, and how the fuck was I going to get out of this? This had all just been preliminary, foreplay before we got into the real purpose, a sex show, with the young girls and preteen boys in the starring role. The parents were the audience for titillation and humiliation. As a fellow pervert, I suspected my character was going to have a more prominent role coming up. I racked my brain as I tried to think of a way to subvert their plan. While all this had been going through my mind, six chairs had been set up in the front of the classroom and the girls and boys had been assigned places alternating boy and girl, Emily, then Brayden, Kaylee, Dylan, Alyssa and Christian.

"Now, I want you boys to push down your pants and underwear to your knees and sit down." They did so too frightened now not to do as they were told, with the expected objections of the two parents who were kept in their desks by the two assistants but otherwise ignored. Their protests and outrage were after all, all part of the show now being enacted. "Now, you girls have really lucked out tonight. Not only are you going to see what a boy looks like aroused as you'd wanted, you are going to get to arouse him yourself! Isn't that great!"

From the look on the faces of the three girls this latest announcement was met with mixed reaction and certainly not with the enthusiasm of our MC. It was certainly an unexpected bonus, and an experience very few girls were going to have without the boy also trying to make out with them. It would certainly be something to brag about to their envious girl friends. It was also something unallowed and therefore tempting, and from what we knew so far about the three girls and their Internet exploration, they were curious enough and daring enough to try it. It did mean breaking the most serious taboo so far, and their hesitation did show that there were some values that had been ingrained in them and they were not totally without morals. Curiosity and fear of repercussions if they did not do as they were told easily won out over parental and societal prohibitions.

Following Ross's instructions, each of the girls tentatively reached over to the boy on her right and picking up his dick between her thumb and next two fingers began to stroke it, Alyssa pulling Christian's foreskin down and then pushing it back over his bulb, the two brothers being cut. Ross explained how the difference had come about and all six youngsters grimaced with the thought and all six examined the dicks of the three boys more closely. The boys responded to the physical stimulation of course and were soon erect, their little members jutting up between their legs like three sore thumbs. The girls were told to push the boy's penises down and then release them, and of course all three sprang back up to attention, to the delight of the three girls who quickly exchanged glances before turning their attention back to the three stiff erections. I'd seen enough kiddie porn not to be shocked though I imagine seeing their little boys with little erections was a shock to their parents. As I've mentioned, no parent likes to think of their child as having sexual desires, and especially not a child as young as these three boys.

"Now then, that was fun, wasn't it?" None of them agreed, but then none disagreed also. "Well, for letting you girls get them erect, I think it's only fair that you reward them by giving them a little pleasure." Our host was certainly into being fair. "You boys ever play with your dinks to get them hard?" he whispered. The boys glanced at their parents. He hadn't whispered that softly that they hadn't heard. He raised his eyebrows and looked them in the eye. Truth won out and each nodded sheepishly. "That's because they feel good when you rub them, isn't it?" They nodded again. He was a guy. He understood. "Well, for letting the girls get you hardons, they're going to do something that's going to give you even more pleasure."

Under Ross's instructions, each girl knelt before the boy she'd just aroused and reached up and held his dick at the base. "Now lean forward and slip your mouth over it and suck on it." The girl's eyes flew open and they looked up at Ross in surprise, glanced at each other in disgust, and then back up at Ross in disbelief. "That's only fair. The boy's have been more than cooperative. Now do as you were told." The latter was firm. The girls looked down at the penis in her hand. What had been curious and amusing was now something dirty. They used them to piss with! "It is even more unfair, and painful, to leave the boys in this condition. It feels good at first, but it hurts if left that way too long. Now you got them that way. It's only fair you get them out of it."

The girls of course had no way of knowing that nature would take its course without them, and if Ross said it hurt he had to be telling the truth. He hadn't lied to them yet, and they did feel guilty having been allowed to have their way with the boys who were obviously much younger and innocent than themselves, but to put their filthy things in their mouths. . . . For their part, getting back at the girls for getting them hard by having them suck their dinks seemed a fair recompense to the boys and they threw their support behind Ross. It wasn't something they'd ever considered having done to them, or doing themselves. It sounded dirty, and that in itself was appealing. When their parents expressed their disgust and disapproval, Ross pointed out that if they continued they could and would be forced to take the place of the girls, which effectively shut them up.

Ross appealed to the girls' sexual curiosity and their realization they would never have another chance like this to see what a guy's dick tasted like and encouraged them to just give it a try. He was convincing, and so far things had not been that bad for them, and they knew they could be forced. Kneeling there with the boys' dicks in their hands, feeling how hard it was and imagining how much it was hurting them, the girls gave in. Slowly and hesitantly, they cautiously slipped their lips over the stiff members of the three boys. To their surprise, and even greater to their relief, the taste was not repugnant even though the concept of what they were doing was. Having fulfilled their part of giving it a try, the girls slipped their lips off the boy's stiff dicks.

Telling them that it was still unfair and actually harmful to leave the boys in their condition, Ross promised them still another bonus, the opportunity to discover for themselves the mystery of male orgasm. Both were convincing arguments and the protests of the two parents not to listen to him added incentive instead of discouraging them and following Emily's lead the girls continued. As for the boys, at their age they had no idea what Ross meant about discovering the mystery of male orgasm. The smugness of having a girl suck their dinks was motivation enough and the mysterious and until then unknown pleasure now throbbing through their little erections was icing on the cake.

So the rest of us watched as the three girls knelt there in the front of the classroom and sucked on the dinks of the three boys and slipped their lips up and down their slender shafts. The parents were fuming and remained seated only by being held down and being subjected to pain if they resisted. I was forced to watch but as I did so my mind was struggling to figure out how I could stop this from going further, as I was certain it would, and how I was going to extricate myself from the situation. As for the woman in the burqa, she could have fainted from the shock for all anyone could tell.

Eventually the boys began to squirm and breathe heavier as the tingling and throbbing of their swollen cocks increased, far exceeding anything they had ever experienced experimenting with their own hand. Finally with a dazed look on their faces they began to jerk about on the chairs and to thrust their hips forward with the first orgasms of their lives, thrusting their burning dinks in and out of the girls puckered lips. They cringed and gasped and cried out with the shocks of pleasure ripping up the core of their hollow, swollen cocks and the girls stopped and sat back and stared at them in surprise and worry.

The three boys sat there wide-eyed with wonder and flushed with the pleasure causing their little dicks to burn, their chests and stomachs heaving as they gasped for breath, too overwhelmed to notice the dismay and the disbelief of their parents. They had just witnessed their sons, eight, nine, and ten years of age, experience their first orgasms, and experience they should not be having for at least another eight years, experiencing what they had no idea boys that age could experience. Discovering this had not been as bad as they had expected, and seeing the reaction of the boys, a reaction that they had been the cause of and that none of their friends could possibly imagine, the girls were inwardly pleased with their success and new knowledge.

"So, did you boys like that?" asked our MC once the boys caught their breath.

The boys had, but they couldn't very well admit it as loudly as they would have had their parents not been present. They sat there with their pants and underwear about their ankles and shyly nodded.

"And you girls?"

"Totally Gucci," observed Emily with typical teen exuberance. This was an experience that was going to make every girl in school green with envy. Her companions agreed.

"What about you, Mike? I bet you're wishing you were up here joining the young folk."

"It was certainly something," I admitted evasively.

"I guess you're up next Mike," Ross said, adding after a pause, "though I imagine you've been up for a while you dirty dog." The sound boy snickered and he glanced at me with that lopsided grin of his.. The comment went over everyone's heads. "So, tell us all what brings you here tonight."

After having heard Kenmore and Penner speak, I had expected I would be asked to make a statement to represent the other side of this supposed debate and I had rehearsed in my mind what I would say. "Ah, well," I began with a shrug and trying to act casual and unconcerned, "I was told if I wanted in on some action there was some going on tonight."

"Don't suppose the person who told you that was named Woody?"

"Ah, no," I replied with a smile. Our MC had to spend a lot of time watching late night show hosts.

"What sort of action were you looking for, Mike?"

"Young."

"Like the girls here?"

"More like the boys." The two adults sounded like industrial vacuum cleaners as they sucked in air and looked at me as if I'd just turned into a turd and I suspect in their minds I just had. I've heard of a person's eyes popping, but this is the first time I've actually seen it happen as the six youngsters stared at me with the first real interest they'd shown all evening. The woman in the burqa hadn't moved a muscle or even quickened her breathing and I was beginning to wonder if she understood English.

"Mike has been asking around where he could find young boys, or men who could connect him with young boys."

"That's right." I had no choice but to ride this through wherever it took me. Revealing my true identity and purpose was going to do me no good. Even if I could arrest this guy and his crew, they would be small potatoes and I'd never find the perpetrators I was really looking for, nor any evidence linking them to Dimitri Savalos. Five cameramen, three stagehands, a teenage sound boy, and a third-class wannabe night show host, making an arrest was highly unlikely. I was badly outnumbered, and I couldn't expect any help from the others in the room.

"Now, for the next part of our show we have planned a little experiment here to test the claims that have been most eloquently made by Mrs. Kenmore and Mister Penner here. Girls, you can go back to your desks for now. They did so quickly, relieved to no longer be the centre of attention, and I'm sure relieved they were not going to have anything to do with me. Mike, I want you to come up here and kneel in front of Brayden, our guest in the burqa to kneel in front of his brother Dylan, and I'll call on our sound man to come up here and kneel in front of Christian."

As we took our places in the front of the classroom, Kenmore and Penner predictably voiced their objections and were kept in their desks only by the strongarm tactics of the two burly stage assistants. They threatened our MC and his crew, telling them that they were not going to get away with this, and that they'd see that they, and the three of us now kneeling in the front of the classroom, would be locked up and the key thrown away. Ross could have easily had them gagged but their verbal outrage and disapproval was all part of the show as was the presence of the two muscular assistants to keep them seated but still allow them space to challenge them physically if futilely. Neither Ross nor any of the crew appeared the slightest bit concerned.

I turned my attention to young Brayden and looked at the ten-year-old's little dick. It had gone soft again but after all the years on this job I knew that was easily changed. As I slowly reached out the boy tensed and he took a deep breath, whether with apprehension or in anticipation I was not sure.

"I'll try to do as good a job as Emily," I whispered as I gave him a quick smile. He was too self-conscious and too worried to respond, but I did see a glimmer of hope in his eyes. This of course was not my first experience. As I slipped my fingers about his limp noodle and held it up, memories of being forced to suck the big black dick of Vincent Brown, and then the much smaller and slender dick of my fourteen-year-old son came to mind. Then, as now, I was being filmed. I glanced at the others. Dylan's lap was completely hidden by the veil of the burqa. It looked like a giant black locust was feeding on his crotch. The sound man was still wearing his hoodie and dark glasses and he had already slipped Christian's limp noodle in his mouth. The fine, dark wisps of hair at the corners of his mouth reminded me of Dimitri at fourteen. Dimitri had resisted any and all attempts to have sex with him. There could only be a few years difference in age between this boy now and Dimitri then but this boy was eager to participate. His downy cheeks sank in as he began to suck and he began to slip his lips up and down the eight-year-old boy's shaft. This was not the sound boy's first time. What sort of kid was he?

I turned my attention back to Brayden. His dink was silky smooth and so tiny. I slipped my lips over it and began sucking gently, knowing that despite the filthiness of the act the taste of cock was not that bad. His little dink quickly began to stiffen and once again I had to wonder why God, or Mother Nature, thought it a good idea for a boy child to have a sensitive penis and be capable of achieving an erection. I could think of only one reason and that ran contrary to every belief I'd ever had as a Catholic and as a parent and as an officer of the law. If that was the real reason, then everything I believed in as a member of the Catholic faith, as a father, and as a policeman was false. As I sucked on the boy's swelling weenie I concentrated on the admonition of the church and what society said the moral responsibility of parenthood was and what the law said, but I could not escape the fact the boy was getting a little bone and even though that was purely a physical reaction, it was accompanied by an element of pleasure. I of course found no pleasure in the act. It was a filthy, obscene act, even more so when engaged in between an adult and a child, and sucking the dick of a ten-year-old boy in front of his younger brother and his mother and in front of three tweenage girls was perverted.

And so I knelt there in the front of the classroom, feeling filthy and ashamed, and sucked on the young boy's stiff dink and slipped my lips up and down the shaft no thicker than my thumb and over the grape-sized knob and the boy wiggled and gasped for breath as a result of my perverted stimulation. I knew from experiences engaged in at a much older age than this boy just how pleasurable the feelings were that were throbbing through that swollen flesh between his legs. I remembered how mysterious and delightful those first pleasures were back as a teenager and I could only imagine how much more mysterious and delightful they were for a boy of ten. Perverts who advocated sex with children played up that pleasure that others would restrict to only those of adult age, which, in my opinion, was justifiable. This was not something that boys the age of Brayden and younger could understand and should be experiencing. Brayden began to squirm and twist like he had earlier and his brother Dylan and the eight-year-old boy Christian were squirming and panting for breath also. Unlike with Brown and Dany, I sucked on young Brayden's stiff dick until it was throbbing in my mouth and the boy was bouncing on his chair and thrusting his hips to and fro, fucking my mouth in the frenzy of his orgasm.

"Now, which did you like best?" our MC asked the boys as the three of us sat back and the breathing of the three boys returned to normal. "Be honest. Which did you like best, the first time you were sucked, or the second time?"

The boys sat there and considered the question as only preteen boys can. I have no idea why and I had really expected the opposite response, but the brothers chose the second time. Given the perversity of being sucked by someone of their own gender and all the negativity associated with sex between boys and adult men, I had expected them to choose the girls. All I could guess was that it was because they were at that age where they preferred the company of boys and were more comfortable among boys who had the same interests and attitudes as they did, girls not yet holding any interest for them. Certainly older boys would not have chosen having been blown by someone of their own gender if for no other reason than to avoid any accusations of being gay. Christian said he liked both, which I believe was an honest answer and not just because he didn't want to offend either. His answer delighted Ross and the crew.

"Now then, it's your turn," Ross said, addressing the three boys, this time with a very definite evil grin. "You've seen twice now how good it feels getting your dink sucked and how it's done. Now it's only fair for you to bring that same pleasure you felt to the person who sucked you off." He smiled at us. "While the boys take your places you three can take their chair."

There was of course another hue and cry from the parents who again were slammed back down in their desks. There was absolutely no way for them to stop what was about to happen, just as there was no way for me to get out of it. They were not going to buy it if I feigned sickness, or objected to doing it in front of the parents or young girls or the cameras. I had portrayed myself as being as sick and as perverted as they were to get here. The best I could do was to do what I could to make it as less stressful and embarrassing for Brayden as I could. So we stood and I and the sound boy unzipped and unbuckled our jeans and dropped them and our underwear and sat down. Tall and lanky, the boy's legs were incredibly thin. I of course had an unexpected surprise, one which Brayden could not help but notice. The girls were brought over for a closer look and Ross explained that I had been castrated, which made the three girls screw up their faces with disgust and horror at the hideous idea and the three boys to cringe and absentmindedly cup their hands in front of their crotches. We sat and the boys knelt, their pants and underwear still about their ankles, and Dylan ducked his head under the burqa. Under that thick, dark material I doubted if he was going to be able to see what he was doing, which could be a blessing for the boy.

The boys had not been keen on getting sucked by the girls, nor by us, and they certainly were not keen about sucking us regardless if it was a fair turn of events or not. In that we were in agreement. I, certainly was not keen on being sucked but there was no way to get out of it. The sound boy on the other hand was very clearly looking forward to the event with great eagerness and anticipation, as evidenced by his nearly aroused dick when he pushed down his jeans and his boxers and flashed me a wide grin. How the woman in the burqa was feeling about this was anybody's guess. I was still mystified just why she was here. At first I had thought she was here to speak against the liberal and decadent sexuality of the western world and side with the two parents. Then I thought perhaps she was here to decry her own oppression and the denial of her sexuality. Now after having sucked off nine-year-old Dylan and about to have him go down on her, I no longer knew where she stood. As for Dylan, surely he was not looking forward to his first experience at muff-diving. The bottom line was that none of us had any choice.

"It's not going to taste as bad as you think," I whispered as Brayden slowly and hesitantly reached out and wrapped his fingers about my limp penis and held it up and even more slowly and hesitantly slipped his lips over it. Memories of the home invasion nine years ago again flashed through my mind, memories of both Dimitri and Dany being forced to suck me. Neither had brought me to an orgasm. I had been forced to finish off by fucking Dimitri instead, and I'd been castrated just as I had reached the brink of orgasm while being sucked by my son, both experiences etched in my mind forever.

I whispered for Brayden to go slowly and I told him how to adjust his breathing and swallowing with his mouth full, and I hoped Christian heard the advice. Brayden's brother Dylan unfortunately had to be on his own. My wife and I had as far as I know a typical and normal sexual relationship while we had been married. I had no need and no interest in anything other than intercourse and nor did she, and that was frequent enough to keep us both satisfied, even in the last year when the stresses of my job and our differences in how to raise our son finally ended in divorce. After my divorce I had no interest in dating again, and after my castration my sex drive plummeted. I had masturbated a few times half a year later, out of curiosity and to prove I could still get an erection and I could still ejaculate even if it was less–basically I suppose, to prove I was still a man. Unable to get a woman pregnant should have been an incentive to resume dating and join the liberal crowd when it came to sexual expression I suppose, but it was not. I just lost all interest.

You would think that after years of abstinence I'd be as randy and as quick as a teenage boy, but unlike the sound boy, I was slow to become erect, and slow to reach my climax. Sex with a ten-year-old boy was filthy and perverted and though he was curious, especially after having been blown twice himself, I know the boy would not normally be on his knees sucking a man's cock. What we were doing was sick and I concentrated on the prickling along the rim of my cock and the fact my dick was being sucked not out of any sense of pleasure but in an attempt to stimulate myself mentally and bring this ordeal, his and mine, to a conclusion. I concentrated on the laboured breathing of the teenage sound boy and his unabashed expression of his pleasure, and I glanced over at his crotch as Christian slid his lips up and down his teen cock and sucked on it like he was sucking a popsicle on a hot day hoping the sight would arouse me, but it only sickened me, just as thousands of pictures and hundreds of investigations into kiddie porn and so-called boy love had done years ago and ultimately resulted in me having to take stress leave and eventually drop out of the International Child Exploitation unit.

Even when he announced he was coming and when I watched him arching his back and jerking with his orgasm and when his cum overflowed the inexperienced boy's mouth and oozed out of the corners of his lips and down around his chin, I felt sick and filthy, not prurient. When I finally did climax, it was weak and I sighed with relief that it was over. I heard Brayden sigh too, and I'm sure it was for the same reason, not out of pleasure. Dylan had emerged from under the burqa before that and he looked like he was relieved it was over also. I had to wonder what the youngster thought of muff diving and what sort of conversation he and his brother would have later this evening. The three of us pulled up our pants and underwear and returned to our desks, leaving the boys still kneeling in the front of the classroom and wondering what they should do.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" Ross asked. He didn't wait for an answer and from the look on the boys' faces it was just as well. "As a reward for being so good this evening, we're going to give you an opportunity that older boys would do anything to have, even suck cock just like you just did for the chance to have such an opportunity." The boys glanced at each other encouraged by the comment and curious, and feeling vindicated for the perverted act they'd just engaged in. "And we haven't forgotten you three girls either. Here is your big bonus for the night for being such great participants in our little discussion on sexuality. You've found out what boys' things really look like, and what they feel like and what happens when a boy gets hard and when he has an orgasm, all things you told Woody you were curious about and that he promised you he'd deliver on, right?" The girls slowly nodded. He was right, but by now they had learned to be careful about what they agreed to.

"Well now you're going to find out what every girl your age really wonders about, without having to leap over all the barriers adults put in your way to prevent you from finding out, and without all the risks and dangers other girls encounter when they try to find out." The girls glanced at each other, intrigued by what he was talking about, but knowing enough now to be cautious. "You're going to find out what it is like to screw."

The look on the girls' faces was a mixture of emotions. Being between the ages of twelve and fourteen, they had to have wondered about it and had to have a lot of questions about it, and they had to know what he meant when he mentioned the risks involved trying to finding out. They knew he was right, all girls wonder about it. This was the ultimate secret, and they were getting an opportunity to discover the truth. It was also the ultimate taboo. The church was clear that you had to be married to find that out. Adults made it clear that you at least had to be an adult to find out. Their peers and those slightly older were just as clear what type of girls ignored the rules and warnings of the church and their parents. It was mysterious, it was taboo, but even more, it was frightening.

"Don't!" called out Mrs. Kenmore, leaping to her feet. "That's wrong! You know it. Don't listen to him. Run!" she gestured. "Get out of here and get help!"

"Yes," agreed Mr. Penner. "Do what he is suggesting and you will ruin yourselves for life! You know it is wrong! You know it is a sin! You know you are much too young!"

He had them up until the last sentence. Nobody between the ages of twelve and fourteen believes they are too young for anything, and they certainly don't want to hear it.

"You see. The typical reaction of adults who want to control your lives for as long as they can, and to prevent you from growing up or experiencing pleasures they have decided only they can enjoy," countered our MC. Not convincing for an adult mind, but making a lot of sense when you are on the verge of adulthood, or even still in your childhood like the three boys witnessing this exchange. Boys wondered about it too, though usually when they were a few years older than the girls. "This is an opportunity you'll not get again," he continued. "Unlike other girls who are just as curious as you are but are left on their own, you're not going to have worry about catching a disease trying to find out. These three boys are all virgins so they're perfectly clean and safe. And they're too young to squirt so you don't have to worry about getting knocked up. And unlike other girls who give in to the temptation to do it with older boys, you don't have to worry about these boys getting rough with you, and you certainly don't have to worry about them bragging to all their friends and you ending up being called sluts by other girls or getting calls from boys who think you're easy. You know what I'm talking about."

They did, and so did he. He hit upon every fear and every danger girls their age faced or would be facing in the future. With Facebook and Twitter and text messaging, these girls were already very much aware of cyber bullying and teen gossip and far more knowledgeable than Kenmore and Penner could ever imagine.

I'd seen how pedos worked when I was on the job and things had not changed in nine years. They were smooth and they preyed on the innocent minds and juvenile emotions and fears of girls and boys this age. I'd witnessed it too many times and that was one of the reasons I'd left the child exploitation unit. It made me sick, and being unable to put an end to it, or even make a dent in their operations, made me even sicker. At that moment I had a pain in my stomach I had not felt for many years, and a feeling of hopelessness I had thought I'd put behind me. I could have stood and joined Kenmore and Penner in their outrage and their attempt to persuade the girls to do the right thing, or to scare the boys into resisting the men, but only physical action was going to stop the perpetrators and with three of us, four including burqa woman, against the ten of them that was not likely to happen. All it would do is change sexual interference to physical abuse and mess up the minds of the youngsters even more, and, again, blow my cover and my chance of ever bringing them and those like them to justice.

This was the last straw for Kenmore and Penner and they had to be strapped to their desks, which had evidently been expected in that the crew quickly found straps in their equipment. Frightened and worried now, the three young girls hesitantly stepped forward to join the boys in the front of the classroom and the boys stood. Self-conscious and blushing with embarrassment, the three girls began to strip and the boys stepped out of their trousers and underwear and removed their shoes and socks and shirts. The girls glanced at each other as they stripped, as did the boys, and the two groups cast furtive glances at each other, but they avoided looking at the adults in the room and especially the two parents. They needn't have worried as both parents averted their eyes. As a supposed pedo, I feigned interest. As for the burqa woman, if it wasn't for the mesh on the front of her headdress there was no way to tell which direction she was looking. The six youngsters of course had the rapt attention of everyone else.

Being the youngest girl and only twelve, Alyssa was the least sexually developed. Her breasts were pert, shallow little hubs only slightly bigger than Brayden's. At fourteen and being on the chunkier side, Emily had a nice sized pair that had to be a topic of discussion and speculation by the junior high boys in her school. She certainly had the attention of the sound boy. She and Kaylee had a small patch of fuzz between their legs and all three girls modestly cupped their hands in front of their crotches and stared at the floor once they were done. Having been previously exposed, the three boys were far less self-conscious exposing themselves again, and despite the situation, cast curious glances at the three girls.

Under the tutelage of our MC, the six naked youngsters were paired up and engaged in rudimentary foreplay. Brayden, our MC pointed out, had the distinction of being the first boy to caress and squeeze Emily's pert, budding breasts while she meanwhile played with his dink and balls for the second time that evening. Standing beside them, his brother and Kaylee awkwardly embraced and kissed and caressed each other's backs and backsides. Alyssa now found the tables turned as Christian now discovered what a girl's felt like and how it responded to his awkward caresses as she fiddled with his dick for the second time. The five cameramen panned the room and zoomed in on each couple and from the bulges in their jeans there were getting as turned on as the six youngsters. Although awkward and embarrassing, and despite the youngsters being anxious and self-conscious, their foreplay achieved its purpose. Slowly the dicks of the three boys began to stiffen, and between seeing the arousal of the three boys and the physical stimulation of having the boys caressing their breasts and cunts and kissing them, the girls began to get aroused also.

Backing up against the teacher's desk and sitting on the edge, the girls spread their legs and the three boys, each now sporting an erection that jutted up between their legs, advanced. I had seen videos and photos of young boys penetrating young girls and had never been toughened by the obscene images, and I never knew anyone in the exploitation unit who was, even the most experienced and roughest of them. They were naive, innocent children, and it was vulgar and sick. Sitting there now and watching it happen in the flesh was ten times worse. No decent human being can begin to imaginable the revulsion of seeing children being forced to engage in an act that they should have no knowledge about. My arms and legs turned to gooseflesh and my stomach turned at the perverse and unnatural sight.

Our MC and his crew were not of like opinion, and when he told the girls that when they were penetrated they might feel a little pain, but that it would only be a little prick, he and the others were greatly amused by the pun. The naked six youngsters were too nervous and self-conscious to realize he had made a pun. They were concentrating hard, the girls with apprehension and not a little fear as they were about to take that big step, one which they would not be able to undo and which they would have to live with for the rest of their lives, and the boys with anxiety and confusion, not convinced they wanted to do this and even at that young age recognizing the seriousness and significance of what they were about to do and instinctively wanting to do it right as they looked down and in unison grasped their stiff dinks by the base and positioned the tips at the entry to the girls' bodies.

Mrs. Kenmore clamped her eyes shut, unable to watch her two naked sons about to lose their virginity, and Mr. Penner sat there stony faced and stared directly at his naked son but I don't think he even saw him. His piss-soaked underwear and trousers had to be cold and clammy now. Burqa sat there motionlessly, a silent mystery. Whether or not she had her eyes open I had no idea. The three girls flinched as they were penetrated by the three boys and as the three boys grasped them by the hips and slowly sank their stiff little dinks between the girls' vulva and up their vaginas. From the gleam their eyes and the bulges in their jeans, there was no doubt what the rest were thinking as they watched the three naked boys, eight, nine, and ten, take the girls' cherries and begin that universal dance reserved for adults.

The three boys thrust their hips to and fro, their compact little butts bobbing as they thrust and withdrew, their stiff little thumb-sized wieners pumping in and out of the no longer virgin slits of the three naked tweens. My arms and legs turned to gooseflesh and my insides overturning with revulsion, I sat there and watched, unable to stop this perverse orgy. Kenmore and Penner might have been able to avert their eyes, but they could not block out the obscene panting and gasping of the three youngsters, the result of their unusual exertion and their arousal and strange, frightening new pleasure. Their young, impressionable minds were being assaulted by new, mysterious sensations that they should not be feeling, or even thinking about. I had to wonder what was on their minds at that moment.

The boys grasped the girls by the hips more tightly as they thrust their hips to and fro, the burning of their stiff, little wicks driving them to pump harder and faster, and the three girls grasped the naked, young fuckers by the shoulders and arched their backs as they felt themselves approaching their orgasms for the first time, their fresh, tender cunts swollen and pulsating with lust and shards of strange, painful pleasure, shooting up their vaginas. It was an obscene, perverted scene straight out of Dante's hell, unimaginable and sick. They fucked faster and more furiously as the burning between their legs inflamed them, dicks and pussies throbbing hotly and together. They shuddered, they gasped, and they moaned as each reached his and her orgasms, eyes heavy-lidded and clouded with lust, moist ruby lips parted as they sucked in air, and heads thrown back in an unimaginable combination of pain and pleasure. The room vibrated with their impassioned breathing.

Their thin chests still heaving and their hearts throbbing, the boys stepped back as the throbbing and burning of their dicks subsided, and all six stood there, naked and panting in the front of the classroom. Their eyes were glazed over and their cheeks flushed as their chests rose and fell, the girls with their legs still outspread, the boys still sporting erections. It took a long time for them, and those who had watched their loss of virginity, to recover.

"Now, you boys are going to be rewarded with still another awesome first," our MC announced, his voice husky and revealing his lust. "You girls can return to your seats and watch still another first that you can brag about witnessing to all the girls at school tomorrow. Just leave your clothes where they are for now." The girls walked numbly and weakly back to their desks, their legs spread, eyes blank with bewilderment, shock and confusion, their hair dishevelled and their bodies streaked with sweat.

The three stagehands stepped forward and as they stripped Christian was told to put on Alyssa's clothes and the boy did as he was told quickly and submissively, avoiding looking at his father who was still sitting there staring blankly at his son. "Never you mind what your Daddy said," observed the stagehand stripping beside him, a hairy, burly man in his late forties or early fifties with a buzz cut and full beard, a hairy pot belly, a long, thick, erection, and huge, hairy balls. "You look mighty fine in panties and bra, and I bet you'd look real cute in a skirt." Alyssa of course, like most young girls today, had worn jeans.

The youngest of the three standing beside Brayden was the Hispanic in his late teens or early twenties. He stripped off his jean vest and shirt and stepped out of his tattered and stained jeans and white jockey shorts, revealing a darkly tanned, smooth chest and sinewy limbs with a thick pubic patch above a long, slender, partially aroused, cut cock. The third man standing beside his brother Dylan was between the ages of the other two men and built like a wrestler. His cock was shorter but fatter than the others and was uncut.

The Hispanic had Brayden turn around and bend over and grasp and spread his ass cheeks for the camera as he squeezed out a dollop of KY and greased up the boy's anus and then slowly slipped his middle finger up his asshole to the last knuckle. I was reminded of the ordeal Dimitri had gone through and how my son Dany had been forced to spread his ass cheeks and show his little virgin pucker to all of us, and to the camera. It was as if these sadistic pervs all went to the same training school. Brayden was blushing a bright red with embarrassment just as Dany had and glanced over at his mother. I had not noticed, but our MC had joined her and had forced her to look up and watch her two sons. The other man meanwhile had Dylan stand in front of his brother and bend over and pull apart his ass cheeks and the two men had Brayden lick his younger brother's asshole and then work up a mouthful of spittle and blow it up his brother's rectum while being finger fucked. The cocks of the two men continued swelling and began to rise with arousal as they watched the two boys. Meanwhile, the third man squeezed out a dollop of KY and leered at Christian as he greased up his large, stiff cock and then yanked Alyssa's jeans down and pulled her panties down in the back and greased up the boy's pucker. Like the Hispanic, he slipped his greasy middle finger up the eight-year-old boy's asshole and finger fucked him. To his great amusement the front of the boy's panties began to tent out and he yanked them down and the cameraman zoomed in on the boy's crotch to film him getting a boner while getting finger fucked.

Christian stepped out of his jeans and panties and the three boys, the other two still naked and all three still in a daze after having had their first piece of tail and their second orgasms with a girl, spread their legs and bent over the teacher's desk and the three men stepped up behind them. Now fully aroused, the three men placed the tips of their well lubricated swollen cocks against the boys' well-greased holes. What with the lube and their rock-hard cocks, they easily penetrated the three boys. As the girls had done when their maidenheads had been broken, the three boys flinched with the penetration of their virgin assholes and their eyes widened and their jaws dropped as they felt their rectums being stuffed for the first time. Unlike the girls, these were no little pricks.

Mrs. Kenmore had gone pale as she watched her two sons being mounted and now getting raped. Mr. Penner, sitting there in his cold, piss-soaked underwear and pants, continued staring at his boy but I knew his mind was elsewhere. As I sat there helplessly and watched, I recalled again the pain and horror of seeing Dimitri being mounted for his first time, and the sounds of what I assumed was Dany being mounted up in his bedroom that night Brown and Iqbal had their revenge. I knew the pain of seeing your son sexually abused and the despair and futility of being unable to do anything about it and sitting there in the school desk helplessly and watching these three boys and their parents it came back just as sharply as that night nine years ago. I'd lost count of the number of nights I'd lain awake trying to think what I might have done differently. It had never totally gone away and as I watched the three boys being raped by the three filthy, sick perverts the agony and revulsion and anger I had felt that night caused every muscle in my body to tense. The three men rammed their cocks in and out of the three tender boys viciously, grunting and snorting with pleasure.

The men were horny as hell after having watched several hours of these young people being sexually abused and humiliated, and the three men sought only one thing, their own selfish satisfaction. They rammed their brute, hairy bodies against the slight bodies of their victims savagely, delighting in their tenderness and virginity and innocence, all destroyed and gone forever that evening. The boys had just screwed for the first time and had lost their virginity along with the girls, and now they were losing their anal virginity with these three filthy perverts. Their innocence taken from them this evening, their lives would never be the same. How many reports had I read about the effects of child abuse on children? How many victim's statements had I read? My mouth was filled with bile and my stomach churned and I wished I could fall into a blind daze like Penner and block out what was happening, but I was supposed to be the very perv I hated with every cell of my being and so I sat there with a fake smile on my face, as silent and motionless as the burqa beside me.

The men were hot and wanted only to satisfy their own lust which had built up watching the earlier abuse of these six children, so they were done quickly, the three of them filling the boys' rectums with their filthy seed, grunting and snorting with their perverse pleasure, relishing the soft, tender flesh of the three wide-eyed, numbed boys bent over slack-jawed and dazed, their little cocks still burning with their dry orgasms and their assholes now raw and burning with the same sweet pain they had felt earlier as they'd experienced their dry orgasms for the first time in their lives. One by one the three men withdrew their large swollen pricks glistening with grease and ass slime and their filthy cum in the flourescent lighting of the classroom. I again recalled the night I had been forced to rape Dimitri and the disgust I had felt as my cum, the last load I would ever ejaculate, spurted up his young, abused asshole. I recalled also the perverse pleasure of my hard, throbbing cock up the hot, moist asshole of my son seconds before ejaculating. For a few moments I was back in my living room reliving the horror.

"You girls can have the same fun as you just watched the boys having," our host stated. How long he had been talking I do not know as I groggily came back to the present. "Boys will want to stick their weenies up your pussies, but if you refuse, they'll settle for sticking them up your assholes. I promise you they will. And if you're careful you can let them do it without condoms so you can have the same pleasure of having your assholes filled with a guy's semen just like you've seen these boys experience tonight. Unfortunately we don't have time for you to find out what that is like tonight, but maybe if you talk to your friend Woody he can arrange another night with us for you to find out. I bet he'd even offer to fuck each of you both ways so you can decide which you like the best. And I bet he would be delighted if you rewarded him by showing him how well you learned to suck cock tonight. And if you want to know how a boy feels getting it up the ass and if he feels like you do there's plenty of gay chat rooms you can check out and ask them and I'm sure Woody would tell you how to find them. There's a whole fucking world out there for you to discover, and tonight is the launch of that awesome voyage!" You'd think he was talking about a trip to Disneyland or a Carribean cruise. The girls just sat there. They looked like they had been shell shocked.

"Now, Brayden and Dylan, you two guys are lucky. You got each other. You can do everything you've done with guys tonight with each other any time you want, every day, several times a day if you want. As for you Christian, there's lots of other boys out there who like to mess around with guys your age, guys the same age as you, tweens, teens, and there's lots of men who like to do stuff with boys your age too. You just have to let them know you're interested, and there's lots of ways you can do that, gay-straight alliance clubs, gay hangouts, chat rooms, social media, there's no limits.

"So to wrap things up, for being such good sports and for helping satisfy the girls' curiosity, we're going to give you guys the opportunity to form a threesome just among yourselves. And to demonstrate, we're going to have Mike, our sound man, and our mystery guest in the burqa lead the way." He was starting to sound and act like a game show host, and he was enjoying the part.

I and the sound boy joined the boys in the front of the classroom and stripped. He did so with no hesitation, flaunting his lean, muscular body and his generous package before the boys, the girls, and the adults with a lopsided grin. The last to be removed were the sunglasses and the hoodie and as he removed the latter I heard a collective gasp and the three girls glanced at each other and then stared at the boy, their eyes wide and intent. As I already mentioned, he had an athletic body if a bit on the thin side, which the girls already knew. He was actually quite good looking. The sides and back of his head were shaved and I suspect dyed black and the top was styled in a faux Mohawk, the tips dyed bronze and matching the colour of his eyes. His emerald nostril stud, turquoise ear studs, facial ring, now all clearly visible, added to his sexual image.. He couldn't be more than sixteen. Any girl would find him attractive and seeing him naked was good reason for the gasp. I know none of them even noticed me as I stripped.

Sitting on the edge of the desk, he spread his legs and looked up at me with a cocky, lopsided grin. He was proud of his package, and had every right to be. I was told to kneel down in front of him and as I did so the mystery guest in the burqa revealed a secret that Dylan had discovered some time ago. Hiking up the burqa and cinching it about his waist, he revealed he was not wearing anything under it. His legs were muscular and an olive shade and covered with fine, long black hair, and between his legs was another surprise, a very impressive package, his cock in its limp condition as long as an average man's erection, and his balls of a matching size. He knelt behind me and slipped his hands out from the folds of the burqa for the first time. They were smooth and young and a rich olive also. I knew one person who was about his age and who had that complexion!

He slipped his hand under his head covering and wet his middle finger and then massaged my anus with it and slowly inserted the tip into my hole. I was directed to turn my attention to the sound boy and as I did so the three young boys were directed into position, Christian sitting on the edge of the teacher's desk beside the sound boy and spreading his legs, Dylan kneeling before him, and Dylan's brother Brayden kneeling behind him. I reluctantly held up the sound boy's dick at the base and licked it and his balls as directed and it immediately began to swell. Engaging in sex with someone of his own gender, and with a man three times his age, was not a concern. Copying me, Dylan held up Christian's dick at the base and licked it and his balls and the eight-year-old boy's dick began to swell also. I noticed Dylan's was also. The two youngsters were not finding this that distasteful. The man in the burqa lubed my anus with KY and then slowly inserting his middle finger up my anus, he slowly began to finger fucked me. Brayden meanwhile was told to drool on his middle finger and massage his brother's asshole, and then to insert his middle finger and finger fuck him. He did so slowly and Dylan squirmed with the penetration and the stimulation of his anus and began swelling faster. My dick began to swell also, from the stimulation of my anus and prostate, not from any enjoyment or pleasure.

Taking the sound boy's swelling dick in my mouth, I began to suck on it and to slip my lips up and down the shaft, allowing it to grow firm in my mouth as I felt the tip of the now hard, lubed cock of the man behind me press against my anus. I relaxed and opened up my sphincter which I had learned from years on the job would make my penetration easier and less painful. As I mentioned, he was of a generous size and uniting was not easy and despite the lube was painful, but if my suspicions were right, causing me pain was part of his pleasure. Ever so slowly his knob stretched open my sphincter wider and wider until I was sure it could stretch no further and it popped inside my rectum. He quickly sank his long, thick cock up my ass until his coarse hairs were pressed against my buttocks and I could feel the knob of his cock deep inside me.

"Enjoy it," he whispered, "it's the longest, fattest thing you're ever going to feel up your fuckin' sweet ass, and when I'm done it's going to feel a fuckin' lot looser."

A comment made by Iqbal that night he and Brown had invaded my home flashed through my mind just as loud and clear as the night I heard it. "You fuck that boy's ass, or I'm going to find the longest, fattest thing I can in your kitchen and fuck his fuckin' ass with it. And then I'm going to go get your fuckin' boy and you can fuck his fuckin' sweet ass instead, though I suspect you're going to find it a bit loose after Vincent riding it all fuckin' night."

The voice that had just whispered in my ear wasn't a memory, and it wasn't Iqbal's. It was Dimitri's. There was no doubt about it. It was the same cold, dispassionate voice I had heard the afternoon I had interviewed him on the front porch of his home. Grasping my hips, he began to slowly pump his rigid cock in and out of my ass. My stretched anus felt like it was being rubbed raw and shards of stimulation shot up my rectum and up the core of my cock each time his knob brushed against my prostate. I inhaled deeply and continued to slip my lips up and down the sound boy's now swollen, throbbing cock. Meanwhile the three young boys beside us were copying us. Dylan was bobbing his head as he sucked on Christian's tiny, stiff noodle and Brayden was grasping his brother's hips and pumping his stiff little cocklet in and out of Dylan's sweet, tender ass. I could hear the laboured breathing and the soft moaning of the three preteen boys.

The sound boy was breathing heavily and softly moaning also, his stiff teenage cock throbbing hotly between my lips. I wondered if the boy was gay or bi or just so horny he'd fuck anyone and probably anything. I thought back to the night I had penetrated Dimitri when he had been the fourteen-year-old friend of my son. He was kneeling there on the carpet waiting, his hair dirty and plastered to his head with sweat, his body bruised and filthy and streaked with dried cum and sweat, those beautiful eyes now vacant behind his long, fluttering eyelashes after a night of abuse. I thought back to our recent interview. Those same beautiful eyes and long, fluttering eyelashes vacant and staring right through me as he was thinking God knows what but certainly not our conversation.

I had fucked him unwillingly and under duress that night, and tonight I was being fucked unwillingly and under duress by him, that I was certain. That night long ago neither of us had wanted it. I didn't tonight either, but I suspected this night Dimitri did. He wanted it very much. This was his revenge. His retribution for me having fucked him that night even though I'd had no choice. I hadn't. I'd come to that conclusion time and time again as I thought and rethought that night through. There was nothing I could have done differently. There was nothing I could have done. Just like tonight there was nothing that I could do about the situation I found myself in.

The sound boy was gasping and grasping my shoulders tightly and began spurting, quickly filling my mouth with his hot, tart, teenage slime and bringing me back to the present. He was young and horny and I could not swallow fast enough. His slime oozed down my throat in a thick, gooey wad and it oozed out the corners of my mouth and around my chin to hang in a slimy pendant. And then Dimitri was snorting and filling my ass with his hot, thick slime as his massive cock throbbed up my rectum, and I felt what had become a rare twang deep in my loins and my feeble load spurted out of my stiff cock.

What I'd just engaged in before the two parents and their boys and before the three young girls was perverted and filthy but my cock was burning with the pleasure of my ejaculation and none of them had any idea of my humiliation and revulsion. I hadn't even realized I'd gotten an erection. As I knelt there with Dimitri's cock buried up my ass and his slime spurting even further up my rectum, my mouth full of the sound boy's slimy, tart teen juice, and my stiff cock spurting my spermless cum on the classroom floor, my mind flashed back to seeing the look of surprise and disbelief and shame in my fourteen-year-old son's eyes as he walked into the room and saw his dad cumming up the ass of his buddy, and his buddy spurting his teenage slime with pleasure at the same time. What was going on in the minds of the two parents and the three young girls at this very moment?

Beside me Christian, still wearing Alyssa's blouse, jerked uncontrollably with his dry orgasm and Braden and Dylan, both stark naked, gasped and quivered with theirs, their eyes closed and their mouths wide. It was their fourth orgasm that evening, the fourth in their young lives. Christian fucked Dylan's mouth in desperation as his tiny wiener throbbed and burned and Dylan sucked on it hungrily as his brother's little dink throbbed up his burning asshole and his own dink jerked and wagged with its fourth orgasm. There was no mistaking the pleasure the three boys were feeling, nor their awe at this new, mysterious pleasure.

The sound boy at last drew his stiff cock out of my mouth and Dimitri withdrew his cock out of my ass and stood up, allowing the burqa to drop. I slowly got to my feet, my rectum filled with slime but feeling empty with Dimitri's large cock no longer stretching it, the teenage boy's cum sticking to my teeth and tongue and hanging in an obscene pendant from my chin, and my own slime hanging in a pendant from my still stiff cock. As we stood there, the three boys separated also, their fresh, downy cheeks flushed with their pleasure, eyes glazed and ruby red lips parted, their thin, bony chests rising and falling as they gasped for breath, their innocence gone forever. Still in a bit of a daze myself, I bent over and one of the crew inserted a syringe up my ass and squirted something up my ass, and another gave me a bottle of something that tasted like lemonade and told me to drink it. I assumed the injection and the drink were drugged and intended to knock me out.

"Now I know you all are going to have some rough days ahead of you," our MC said as Christian removed his blouse and we all got dressed and the crew began to pack up. "I know this wasn't anything like what you boys were expecting or your parents told you when you were dragged out here by your mom and your dad, but we couldn't just stand by and let them spout off their uninformed bullshit without letting you find out there is another side to the lies they are telling you. Now you know from your own experience the pleasure you can get from your dicks, and from other boys, and from girls even. When you leave here and we're not around your parents are going to tell you how wrong and sick and sinful everything you did was and they're really going to try to mess up your minds and make you feel dirty and shameful and bad. You'll have to decide if they are right, or if what we've given you the chance to experience tonight is right. All I can say is what I told the girls earlier, there's a whole fucking world out there for you to discover, and tonight is the launch of that awesome voyage for you too!"

By this time the crew had packed everything up, returned the classroom to how it had been, and had left except for the sound boy. They were efficient. I discovered Dimitri had gone also. I wasn't feeling the least bit drowsy yet, probably because I'd been hyper all evening and the drugs were taking a while to take effect. "Woody," our MC said, nodding to the sound boy, "will check in with you, and if your mom or dad give you a rough time and try to stop you from enjoying yourselves, or if you want to talk about stuff, or continue on this voyage, you just let him know. There's a lot more for you to discover, believe me."

Woody? I glanced at the girls, all three of whom were staring at him. So that was the reason for the gasp I'd heard when he'd removed his hoodie. This was the boy they'd talked to on the Internet, not Ross!

"He'll give you girls a lift home too," he said, glancing at the girls. "I'm sure you'll find a way to thank him for this evening." From the look on the faces of the three girls I don't know if they were ready to thank him for the evening, but they weren't all that upset either, and from the look on Woody's face he was expecting this to just be the beginning of the voyage for him too, with them, and very likely the boys, and I suspected that he had the charm to win over both.

Ross and Woody removed the straps restraining Kenmore and Penner and beat a hasty retreat, I and the girls following them. My drivers were waiting to take me back to my car. They again took a circuitous route back even though there was no way for my team to have known where they had taken me and they had made no attempt to prevent me from knowing where I'd been the last four hours. It was now nine o'clock. I suspected they were waiting for the drugs they'd given me to take effect. While we drove I made a mental note of what all had to be done. I was sure someone from my team would still be watching my vehicle. The bozos returning me probably knew nothing that would connect them with Dimitri or the crew of FYB studios, but we could be lucky and Dimitri and his friends could have gotten careless. They had already made several very significant mistakes. I knew where the crime scene was and the first thing would be to dispatch a forensic crew to Marlborough Middle School to collect the evidence. The place was covered with fingerprints, including Dimitri's, and there was DNA evidence from the discarded cigarette butt in the parking lot and Woody's piss in the wastepaper basket.

I had plenty of evidence myself and despite how embarrassing and humiliating it would be, I would report what had happened to me and have swaps and samples taken, an enema, and my stomach emptied. That, I realized, was probably why I'd been given the drugs, to knock me out so that by the time I awoke it would be too late to do any of that. All the more reason to fight the dope they'd given me. I was carrying Woody's DNA between my teeth and in my stomach and Dimitri's up my ass!

Dimitri would have to be interviewed and it determined where he was last night of course. I'd likely have someone else do the interview rather than myself. His lawyer would definitely question the reliability of my report and would claim a conflict of interest, and besides, I didn't trust myself facing him after last night, not with me knowing what he'd done to me and being able to prove it. I had mixed feelings about that. I felt sorry for the kid, and responsible in a way as unreasonable as that was. He had been the victim that night in my house, and he still was. But at the same time, the Dimitri I had interviewed and the Dimitri of this evening were not the kid I'd known. He was a cold, unfeeling, cruel monster that was preying on children and he had to be stopped.

Woody had made no effort to keep himself disguised and probably would not be that difficult to locate and there probably would be no difficulty charging him with his involvement with the girls, besides his assault on myself with the physical evidence I had. He was small potatoes but there might be a link that could be found that connected him to Dimitri and his friends. As I thought about it, instead of arresting him it would probably be better to put a tail on him and see if we can catch him with something bigger. He'd very likely be in touch with the girls, and the three boys, and maybe if we were lucky FYB Studios would like to do another video, with him as a star instead of a technician, and he and they would certainly try to make a deal in return for turning in Dimitri.

Penner and Kenmore would be easy to track down and should be interviewed right away, along with their sons. Interviewing them would be difficult and I'd have to weigh whether that should be me or someone else. Discovering I was an undercover law enforcement officer and not a pedo and had done nothing to stop the abuse and corruption of their sons would not likely go over very well. As for myself, my cover was blown, and even if it wasn't, I couldn't continue the charade of being a pedo after what had happened last night. All the horrors and guilt and shame of that night nine years ago had returned in double. The pain and disgust I was feeling were going to be worth it though. Dimitri and his friends had made too many mistakes this night. I had them, and would at least put an end to their reign of child abuse.

The thugs dropped me off a block away from my car, one street over so they wouldn't be seen. There was someone watching the vehicle as I'd thought and they drove me straight to the lab. I'd been too hyper for the drugs they had given me to take effect. Processing was humiliating and I desperately wanted to shower and get drunk. I arrived home several hours later to find an envelope taped to the door waiting for me. Inside was an eight by ten glossy of a naked, handsome young man on a pristine beach of some tropical island, one leg raised for a better view of his impressive family jewels as he looked out to sea, Dany, age twenty-three. I phoned the lab to pick it up for fingerprinting and went to bed. The next couple days were going to be very busy.

Chapter 22
Trick or treat

Three teens 14 – 15 yo taking Halloween candy bags from children are intercepted by two unnamed and unidentified individuals, one white and one black, and experience a night of hardons and satisfying the two men. Told by Ethan.

Characters:  Eric, Ethan, Brandon, unknown men

Code; m/t, t/t, ws, nonconsensual

"Well, well, look at what we have here."

The three kids looked up at us and you could see the fear in their fuckin' eyes. They drew their candy bags closer.

"What are you? A walking bed sheet?" teased Brandon.

"I'm a ghost," the boy replied indignantly. I suspect he was proud of his costume and probably helped make it. It was no store-bought costume.

"And what are you? A kid with a dirty chin and a green tennis ball on his shoulder?" asked Eric.

"I'm a pirate. And that's a parrot. And I got a beard, not a dirty face," the kid said indignantly. Actually I thought it was rather good, and I suspect he and his mum had worked on it together.

"Looks like you've done well," Brandon said, grabbing the ghost's pillow case and yanking it out of his hands.

"Hey! That's mine."

"Not anymore it ain't." Eric and I snatched the sacks of the other two boys while they were distracted.

"Give that back!"

"You gonna make us?" Brandon laughed.

"Go ahead and try. We dare ya!" challenged Eric.

"We'll take that dare," said a voice behind us.

We spun around. There were two guys behind us, older than us from their height and size, dressed alike, ninjas, dark, tight jackets and pants, black hoods pulled up over their heads, black bandanas over the bottom of their faces leaving just their eyes visible. None of us had heard them approaching.

"Hey, you want some. We'll share. They got lots," Brandon said, trying to sound light-hearted and friendly but I could tell he was scared, really scared, and I'm sure the two ninjas could tell too. They were certainly frightening me. The bigger of the two ninjas didn't say a word. Just yanked the bag out of Brandon's hands and gave it back to the kid. "Hey, we were just having some fun. Just messing with them, you know," Brandon said, taking a step back.

"Yeah, we weren't really gonna take their loot," said Eric, quickly returning the sack to the pirate. I quickly returned the sack I was holding too. There were three of us and only two ninjas, but I knew two was enough.

"Empty your pockets," said the taller of the two.

"What?"

Brandon got a backhand in the face that jerked his head back and was going to leave a beauty of a bruise. "Do it." He didn't shout. He wasn't angry. But his voice sent a cold quiver down my spine. Brandon took out his wallet. He wasn't going to hesitate again.

The ghost was told to hold out his candy bag and Brandon was told to empty his wallet into it. Eric and I didn't pack a wallet but we had cash in our pockets and we dropped it in the candy bags of the pirate and the third boy in a store-bought Spiderman outfit. Eric had a pack of smokes and the skinnier ninja took it and pocketed the pack. The other ninja gestured for the kids to beat it and they turned and ran off up the street like a bunch of scared little rabbits. I hoped we going to be told to do the same. We slowly began to edge away.

"You're coming with us."

"Hey, like we don't want no trouble. You don't want us messing with the trick or treaters, that's cool," Brandon said, holding his hands up, palm facing them. We took another step back.

"Yeah, totally," agreed Eric. I nodded my head. Vigorously.

"You can ride in the back seat, or the trunk," said the bigger ninja.

We had been backed up to a sporty red Camaro. "Hey, really, look–," began Brandon, his hands still raised. The second backhand was harder than the first and knocked him with a whack back against the car. The trunk was popped and Brandon was stuffed inside. Really. Just like on TV. Eric and I got in the back seat, fast. I was frightened before. Now I was about to shit my pants. The bigger ninja got behind the wheel and the other the passenger seat and reached into a bag and took out two cans and handed them to us and said we had a ways to go so to sit back and relax and have a drink. I took a can and pulled the tab and took a little sip. I was prepared to do whatever he told me. I'd ride on the hood as a hood ornament if he told me to.

I'd never drunk beer before. Not ever. But I knew a beer can when I seen one, and what beer smells like. It was bitter, or sour, or something. The guy in the passenger seat had removed his bandana and lit up one of Eric's smokes and he took a long, deep swig from his can and said we drank like girls and to drink like men. He was a nigger, the darkest I've ever seen, and he had a funny accent, not a nigger accent like on TV, more, I don't know, Itallian or something. Eric and I took deeper swallows. I took a third, drinking like a man. Why people like drinking the stuff I'll never know. I tried not to make a face but I couldn't help it. I took another drink. I just figured the faster I emptied the can the faster I'd be done. "That's the way. I like a man who likes his beer," said the black ninja. I took another long swig. I didn't want to get knocked around like Brandon. They drove around for a while and finally pulled into the parking lot of a shabby looking motel in the east end. By then Eric and I had finished off two cans each. The last was getting easier to swallow.

They let Brandon out of the trunk and we followed the two ninjas meekly. I mean, what else could we do? The room was small and simply furnished, the carpet and curtains threadbare and the furniture worn and nicked. There was an extra large bed which dominated the room, a dresser, a desk, two wooden chairs, and one of those fold-up stands for your luggage. The black had a big duffle bag that he put on it, and an unopened case of beer that he plunked down on the dresser. It was the type of place where people came for only one thing, and that involved the bed but not sleeping. I knew that from cops shows on TV. Brandon and I sat on the chairs and Eric sat on the edge of the bed. The black handed us another beer and told Brandon he'd better drink fast, we were two cans ahead of him. Brandon downed the first can in almost one gulp and was soon on his second. I don't think he was just trying to catch up to us. I figured he was trying to calm his nerves after his ordeal in the trunk, and beside, he probably figured they owned him big time for the way they'd treated him. Or maybe he was just hoping to get drunk. The black had another beer himself. The other ninja didn't drink and kept his bandana over his face.

"Strip," he said.

Eric's jaw dropped as he looked at him and then at the other ninja. "Oh no, not that! I'm not into that," he said leaping to his feet. Losing his balance, he tottered a bit. Not into what? I didn't understand. The bigger ninja whacked him good, sending him wheeling across the room. He tripped and smashed his head on the dresser. The big ninja was on him in a flash. Grabbing him by the front of his jacket, he raised him up off the floor and shook him out of it. He really did. Turning him around and grabbing the front of his shirt, he yanked it, popping the buttons, just like that. He spun Eric around again like he was a top and grabbing his shirt by the collar he yanked it down. It caught up around his wrists and he left it hanging there. Pushing him onto the bed, he pulled a knife and cutting the laces of each boot he yanked them off, and then his socks. He was like a madman. Slicing Eric's belt with his knife, he snapped his jeans open and yanked down his fly, and lifting Eric up by the ankles he yanked his pants off, followed by his boxers, and he dropped him back on the bed. Fuck, he wasn't even breathing hard.

He slowly turned and looked at Brandon and me and I began unbuttoning my shirt as fast as I could. My hands were shaking and the button holes had gotten smaller and the buttons larger. Brandon seemed to have the same problem. Slipping my shirt off, I wondered where I should put it, and just dropped it on the floor I undid my belt and unsnapped my jeans and pulled down my fly and I stood up and began to push my jeans down. Stepping out of my jeans, I dropped them on the floor too, and then I reached up and slid my briefs down. It was embarrassing stripping down to my bare butt in front of the two of them, and in front of Eric and Brandon, but to tell you the truth I was more scared than I was embarrassed.

As I'd stripped I'd had time to think about Eric's reaction and what he had said and I slowly realized what was going on. I can be a real dough head sometimes. When a guy tells you to strip naked there's only one reason. Now I got nothing against guys who like that sort of thing. I'm no homophobe, but I don't do that sort of thing myself. In fact just the idea gives me the willies. Actually, to tell the truth, I don't know anybody who does that sort of thing. There's a few guys at school that guys call fags, but that's just an insult and I don't know if they are or not. They act queer. Well, how queers are supposed to act, girlish and mincing and stuff. There's more and more gay characters on TV all the time but I don't watch those shows. Actually thinking of guys doing stuff with guys doesn't just give me the willies. It gives me gooseflesh and turns my stomach.

Removing my socks, I sat back down and finished my third can and the black handed me a fourth. Trying to get me drunk. If I was going to have to do what I suspected I was going to have to do I might as well. It'll be easier. I almost downed half the can in my first swig. Brandon had finished stripping and sat down in the other chair. He had a black eye and a huge blue-black bruise on his right cheek. I concentrated on that instead of looking at, well, you know, the other thing. We don't take phys ed together so I've never seen him naked before and he's a year older than me, fifteen, so I was curious. Actually I've seen Eric in the lockers and the showers but I've never looked closely. I mean, yeah, guys are curious but they don't check each other out, at least not so it's obvious. I mean, everyone knows what sort of guy does that, and I'm not that sort!

"The redhead must like being treated rough, look at the little shit playing with himself," observed the black.

Eric was sitting on the edge of the bed. He had managed to pull his hands out of his shirt sleeves and had his hands in front of his crotch. He quickly pulled his hands away but not soon enough. Fuck, he had been touching himself! He began turning red again. Eric blushes easy and its sort of a game to get him embarrassed and watch him run red. When he does, you can actually see the colour rising from his neck to his forehead, like the mercury in a thermometer. "I wasn't playing with myself," he denied. "I gotta take a leak."

I wished he hadn't said that. I did too. I had for some time now and had been trying to ignore it.

"What about you two?" the black asked.

Brandon and I nodded. There was no point in denying it. The two ninjas glanced at each other and the black opened up the duffel bag and fished around in it, finally pulling out a clear plastic tube maybe sixty centimetres long, shorter than a guy's arm. One end ended in a funnel, the other was attached to sort of a balloon. Eric tensed as the black approached him, his eyes wide with fear, his head shaking no, but like the Borgs on that TV space show, he knew resistance was futile. Having Eric sit closer to the edge of the bed, the black held up Eric's dick and slipped the balloon over the knob of Eric's dick and left the hose and funnel hanging between his legs. Ordering me to sit beside him and Brandon to move the chair he was sitting in over so he was sitting in front of us, the black took two more hoses out of the bag.

Sitting beside me, he held up my dick, which really felt weird. Nobody has ever touched me there before, and certainly not a nigger. It really gave me the willies sitting there watching his black fingers slip about my dink and raise it while he stretched the balloon and slipped it over the knob of my dick with the other hand. The balloon ended in an elastic neck so it snapped tight behind the knob of my dick when he released it. Leaving the hose hanging between my legs just like Eric, he attached the balloon of the third hose to Brandon's dick. I had good reason to watch, so I did. Unlike me, Brandon was cut. His dick was a bit fatter than mine but looked about the same length. His hairs were thicker and curlier than mine and of course darker and his nuts looked rounder and more like two tennis balls than hanging down in a sack like mine.

The black then took the funnel at the end of my hose and had Brandon open his mouth and he fitted the funnel and I realized with horror what they were up to! Fuck no! I suddenly had to piss worse. The black then put Brandon's funnel in Eric's mouth and then he had me open my mouth and put Eric's in mine. The funnel was just the right size and it stretched open your mouth and fit snug around my upper and lower gums and between them and my lips.

"Go ahead. You can start pissing any time." We glanced at each other out of the corner of our eyes in horror. The black sat beside Eric and began to run his fingertip over the rim of his dickhead inside the balloon. He squirmed and inhaled deeply and I knew how it felt having your dick head touched like that, though I couldn't imagine what it felt like being touched like that by another guy, and a nigger besides. My bladder ached with just the knowledge of how it felt having the rim of your dick head touched like that. Sometimes in the morning when I woke up and had to go real bad and had a boner I touched myself like that to encourage my body to pee. It had to be unbearable for Eric.

"Tinkle, tinkle, little peepee," sang the nigger in that high voice blacks have.

"Sorry," Eric managed to gasp and I watched in horror as the clear tube began to fill with yellow fluid and it quickly rose in the tube. It rapidly rose up the clear plastic tube to the funnel in my mouth and flooded into my mouth. Bitter, like the beer, maybe like weak tea but not quite, salty maybe, sort of like the aftertaste of fish. What hit me the hardest was that it was warm, very warm. I had to begin swallowing or drown. I quivered as the first gulp flowed down my throat. My bladder was going to burst. I couldn't hold my breath any longer and I stopped swallowing and took a couple quick breaths thought my nose. The hot, nitrogen smell of fresh piss struck my brain. I could not hold it back.

The taste and the smell of piss triggered my own and I could not stop it. Sitting there on the edge of the bed swallowing Eric's piss, I watched my own piss race up the plastic tube and disappear into Brandon's mouth. He had no choice but to start swallowing like I had and he couldn't hold his back any more than I could and finished the circle, his hot piss flowing up the plastic tube and into Eric's mouth. The two ninjas stood there and laughed as they watched us empty our bladders and drink down each other's piss. We'd each had four cans of beer, and we must have had four cans of piss swelling our bladders. I seemed to have to go forever, and Eric's flow never slowed. I imagined his piss going right through my body and out my cock and I imagined the three of us sitting there and pissing and swallowing without end. My stomach was starting to feel full, but my bladder did seem less so. We finally did stop of course, and they unhooked the hoses and held them up to drain into our mouths before removing the funnels. I stared down at the floor unable to look Eric or Brandon in the eye. My jaw was sore being stretched open so long and I had a bitter taste in my mouth. Fuck, I'd just swallowed another guy's piss, a bladder full, and pissed in another guy's mouth myself. That was filthy and just plain sick. My stomach felt full, bloated with piss, and I felt like throwing up. Scared what might happen if I did, I forced it to stay down.

"Now you know what your buddy's piss tastes like," said the bigger ninja, "it's time to find out what his dink tastes like. I want you to show your buddy how much you appreciated drinking his piss by licking his dick til he gets a hardon. If someone gives you a hardon, he is a true friend." I realized he had an accent too, but not like the black guy's.

I didn't really know about that, but we had no time to think about it and it didn't really matter if we believed it or not. As he stepped forward, his right hand raised, we dropped to our knees. He meant it, and we knew what was coming if we didn't do as he ordered. I wondered where he was from. He had an accent too, but not like the black guy's. It sounded Itallian or something like that. I turned my attention to Eric. As disgusting and humiliating as it was, sucking his cock was a lot better alternative than a whack on the side of the head. From the look of his face, Brandon had to be in great pain. I crawled over to Eric. I'd seen him naked before like I said, but I've never seen his dink that closely. Actually, I've never seen anyone's dick as closely as Eric's. It looked about the same size as mine except like Brandon he was cut and he had a thick bush of red hair whereas I'm not cut and my pubic hair is blond. Inhaling nervously, I reached out and held up his dick by the base. It was weird holding another guy's dick, gay. I stuck out my tongue and tentatively ran it around the head of his cock. I know what a dick smells like having smelled my own dick and balls on the tips of my fingers, and his smelled similar. Of course I had totally no idea what a dick tasted like and I was pleasantly surprised to find his had next to no taste.

I felt Brandon slip his thumb and first two fingers about my dick and raise it, which was really gay and gave me gooseflesh, and then I felt his hot, wet tongue sweep over my knob and over my peehole, which sent tingles up the core of my cock! Eric wiggled into position so he could lick Brandon's dick but all I could think about was how Brandon's tongue had sent that jolt of arousal up the middle of my dick. It was perverted and sick, but licking a guy's dick while another guy is licking yours is erotic, and even more erotic is feeling a guy's dick getting stiff in your hand! Whether it was from me licking it or from him licking Brandon's I don't know, but Eric was getting hard! And that started me swelling. It certainly wasn't because I was turned on licking his filthy cock, or that I was getting turned on being licked by another guy. That's sick.

The only reason had to be because Eric was getting a boner. There's nothing more embarrassing than popping a boner while at school, especially if you have to stand up. Everybody can tell, even the girls which is even worse, and everyone smirks and snickers. This was way worse. Totally! Popping a boner just happens. Eric was getting a boner for a reason. And getting a boner meant he was liking this. Getting his cock licked, or licking Brandon's. That was so gay. And knowing he was boning up and knowing what that felt like, was causing me to bone up too. It had been knowing that Eric was getting a boner there in front of Brandon and me and the two guys who had captured us. That was totally gay. Brandon had to know I was getting boned up.

I'd never seen another guy's when it was hard before. Never. Eric's looked to be about the same size as mine, about the breadth of my hand plus the breadth of another two fingers. It was sticking straight up in the air and the head was redder than the rest of it, like it was blushing, like Eric. Mine was jutting straight up too, and aching. Fuck, it even wagged. Now how gay is that! I couldn't help it, I glanced over at Brandon's. His was maybe another finger breadth longer than ours and maybe a little fatter. My skin had slipped down over the slope of my bulb and clinging to the rim.

"The little shits are really getting off licking each other's dick," observed the black with a snicker.

"You know, you got a real pretty face," the bigger ninja said, addressing me. "Love the hair. You darken the sides?"

I nodded. It was the style, buzz cutting the sides and back and dying them darker and leaving the top long and blond.

"You dye the eyebrows too?"

I shook my head in the negative. They were naturally dark.

"You don't talk much do you? But that's okay. There's far more important things for your tongue to do."

Standing there in front of me, he pulled down his fly and unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned the top of his jeans. They were tight and stayed mid-thigh when he pushed them down. His boxers were tented out and his dick snagged on them as he pushed them down to his trousers. His was huge, really huge, and it was still hanging down. He had balls to match, hanging in a pendant sack. His skin was sort of an olive-brown colour, the bulb of his dick a bit darker. The black had meanwhile unzipped his fly and pushed his jeans and underwear down also. He was about the same size as the other guy, his dick maybe a bit more slender but having a foreskin like me. His dick was deep black, licorice black, and so were his balls. Together they were as big as a tennis ball. Both guys had thick, curly jet black hairs and the olive-skinned guy had hairy legs besides.

"Enough nibbling on the appetizer, time for the main course," the olive ninja said to me. "On your knees and start sucking blondie."

Fuck, I'd never seen dick so huge. I had no idea how I was going to do it, but I knew better than to hesitate. I scrambled to my knees and like a wimp, or a fuckin' faggot, I leaned over and stuck out my tongue and began to lick his long, thick shaft and his knob. His dick smelled just like mine, sort of a meat odour, like a raw wiener or ham sausage or something, and like Eric's dick it didn't have much taste, not really. At least not gross. More like, well, a wiener. It was more the thought that was disgusting, not the taste, the thought that I was licking a guy's filthy prick, that thing he pissed out of, that most private part of a guy's body.

The black had Eric get to his knees beside me and lick his long, black sausage. I wondered if a nigger's tasted or smelled different. There's quite a few blacks in our city, but not many go to our school, and none live in our neighbourhood. Telling us to slip our lips over their knobs and to begin sucking, we did as we were told. The guy's knob totally filled my mouth and his cock began to well even more. That was really weird, feeling his dick get hard between my lips, really gay! Once I got used to breathing with it in my mouth, I sucked on it and breathed through my nose, and then slipped my lips a little further down. It was fat and long, twenty centimetres I guessed, and I couldn't go far without gagging. Told to keep sucking and to slide my lips up and down his cock, I did as I was told. Eric did the same to the black. Meanwhile, Brandon was told to watch both of us, and if we started to go soft, to suck on our dicks until we were hard again. The way my dick was aching, I didn't think he was going to find a problem with me.

Ir wasn't because I was turned on or enjoying it or anything. It was filthy and perverted and humiliating. And there was no pleasure in it. After a bit my neck began to get stiff bent back like it was and my jaw was getting sore being stretched open so long. My mouth kept filling with spit and I had to swallow it, giving me gooseflesh when I thought about the fact the guys bone had been soaking in it. The two guys began to breathe more heavily and I knew what was going to happen eventually and I began worrying about what I was supposed to do. Guys tell each other to suck their dick all the time as an insult, but I never really thought about what happened when you did it all the way. I had no idea what fags did at the end. I'd never thought about it. They wouldn't–. They couldn't–. Brandon began to lick my dickhead. Just the thought was disgusting, disgusting enough for me to lose my boner.

I didn't have to worry or think about it for long. The guy I was sucking was really breathing heavily, as if he'd been doing laps about the track, and he suddenly told me to start swallowing and seconds later he began squirting his fucking stuff in my mouth. Really! It was thick and gooey, sort of what I imagine egg white must be like, and it was really bitter. Gob after gob squirted into the back of my mouth and I started swallowing automatically. It was thick and sort of clung together like jelly so once a gob began to slide down my throat the whole gob followed, sending a shiver up my spine and causing my whole body to turn to gooseflesh. Eric was gulping and snorting and the black was snorting and grunting and so the same had to be happening with them. I had sucked a guy off and I was swallowing his filthy, slimy stuff. I never felt so dirty and so nauseated in my life, and never so humiliated.

It was like forever before the two of them stopped squirting and I wondered if the older you got the more you could make and the more you could squirt. When I first learned about jacking off and first done it I was afraid a guy only had so much and if he jerked off too often he'd run out. The guy who told us about doing it said that didn't happen, but I've never read anywhere for sure that is so, and they don't teach useful stuff like that in school. Anyway, these guys had lots and we had to stay on our knees and keep sucking them until we sucked them dry. When they finally backed off, their dicks were still sticking straight up in the air.

"Not bad for your first time. You two got the makings of being great faggots," the olive-skinned guy said with a leer. "Just look at them, still stiff and horny," he said to his buddy. "They really liked it."

I was stiff, and I turned red and Eric turned even redder. There was no fucking way I had liked it. But I was stiff, totally, and there was no sign it was going to soften. The two of them sat back on the two chairs and had another beer. They didn't bother pulling up their underwear and trousers, and they didn't offer us a beer either. I would have taken one in a flash. I could taste the guy's cum and I could feel his slime sticking to my teeth and gums. Whenever Eric or I began to droop, Brandon was forced to lick our dicks and get us back up, and when he began to go soft he had to fiddle with himself until he was hard again. My dick was starting to ache. I'd never been hard for so long in all my life. At least half an hour passed by and it was really starting to hurt.

The bigger guy, who seemed to be the leader, asked the black if he was ready for another round, and he replied he certainly was and asked the other guy if he wanted to switch. So they got to their feet and approached us again, this time the black coming to me and the other guy to Eric. We'd been forced to stay on our knees all that time. The two of them had gone soft and we had to lick their cocks until they were stiff again. The black guy's dick didn't taste much different from the other guy's but it smelled stronger, but that might have been just my imagination, or maybe nigger sweat was different and it was him I was smelling. As we slipped our lips over their knobs and began to suck and slide our lips up and down their shafts, the two of them talked about how hot it was to get sucked, especially by two horny, fag, teenage white boys. They told us to suck harder and to slip our lips further down their cocks and how we were real fags.

Sucking the nigger's cock made my own ache and it twitched and bobbed and I wished I could stroke it. Two strokes and I was sure I'd go off. I'd been hard so long my swollen dick was numb and felt like your leg or arm or whatever feels when it goes to sleep, except inside it really ached to get off. Again my neck started to get stiff and my jaw began to ache being open so long, and again, for the second time that night and the second time in my life, a guy filled my mouth with his gism and I swallowed it down, this time my own cock throbbing and tingling and itching to pop a load. Each gulp of his thick, slimy gism made my cock bob and I would have done anything to be allowed to cum too. The nigger noticed my cock of course and pointed it out to the other guy and they laughed and said I really was proving to be a fag boy.

Again we sucked them dry, and again we were forced to stay there on our knees and Brandon had to keep us and himself hard, which from the way I was feeling didn't take much, and nor did it take much for Eric nor Brandon either. They had another beer and the nigger had another one of Eric's smokes and they went to the can and relieved their bladders. I was thankful we hadn't been made to drink their piss, but I would have done so eagerly if they'd let me jack one off. They finally glanced at each other and then at us and approached us once again. I couldn't believe it. Suck them three times! I couldn't take this anymore, and as I licked the leader's dick once again the taste and smell of his dick and the thought that I had two loads of cum in my stomach already made me want to puke. I was really scared I couldn't keep it down, and the thought of bringing up his slime and it filling my mouth made me gag and really want to puke. If I wasn't so scared what they'd do to me, and the thought of the taste and feel of his slime after being in my stomach being so foul, I would have.

This time the black went to Brandon instead of Eric and I wondered why he'd gotten off lucky as I licked the olive-skinned guy's knob and slipped my lips over it and sucked on it until he was stiff again and Brandon did the same to the nigger. To my surprise, he ordered me to stand and spread my legs and lean forward with the palms of my hands flat against the wall and then to shuffle back so I was supporting myself with my arms instead of my legs. Stepping up behind me, he ran his middle finger up my ass crack and fingered my anus. The next thing I knew he was rubbing something greasy over my butt hole and then he inserted his finger up my ass. I stiffened as I felt it entering me and he laughed and said that was nothing compared to what I was going to get shoved up my ass next. Brandon had been told to stand beside me in the same position and he jerked and scrunched up his face in pain as I assumed the black did the same to him. He was crying.

Removing his finger and grasping my hips, the guy stepped forward and crouched a bit and I felt the knob of his cock press against my anus. He told me to push out as if taking a crap, and as I did so he pushed forward. Ever so slowly I felt his knob stretching open my asshole and I pushed harder, opening my ass as wide as I could and I gritted my teeth with the pain. He kept pushing and as my asshole stretched even further I wondered if this was how a girl felt when she was penetrated and realizing that was what was happening, that I was being penetrated like a girl I began to turn red with shame and embarrassment Brandon was still sobbing but it didn't stop the black guy none.

Finally I felt the guy's knob get past my anus and my asshole clamped down around the shaft behind it. Once he was in, he continued to slowly push forward, slowly sinking his cock up my ass until I felt his coarse, rough hairs pressing against my buttocks. The black guy had gotten his dick inside Brandon also and he too slowly sank his cock up Brandon's ass. He said how tight Brandon was and how good this was going to be, and the guy with his cock up my ass said there was nothing better than fucking a virgin, especially one that was horny and had a horn too. I had been concentrating on getting penetrated and the pain and hadn't realized I still had a hardon and I started turning red all over again. I glanced down and over and found Brandon was stiff also.

It felt totally weird getting fucked, feeling a guy's stiff cock stuffed up my rectum and feeling him sliding it in and out of my ass. I wondered if having your cock stuffed up a guy's ass was anything like having it stuffed up a girl's cunt and my arms and legs turned to gooseflesh as I thought about it. The guy tightened his grasp of my ass as he pumped his stiff cock in and out of me, and wondered what it felt like to have your cock stuffed up a guy's ass. My anus burned like it was being skinned, and my rectum throbbed which really felt weird, and I could feel his cock throbbing deep up my ass and it felt so big and so deep. The guy had started up a regular rhythm and so had the black and they were soon both breathing heavily and began fucking faster and harder, ramming their cocks up our assholes as far as they could and then withdrawing them and banging their crotches against our buttocks.

Suddenly I felt the guy begin to spurt, squirting his stuff even deeper up my asshole. He grasped my hips even tighter and he grunted and snorted as he stopped and filled my rectum with his stuff. The black was really pounding Brandon and then he gave one final shove and grunted and gasped and I imagined he was filling Brandon's rectum too, and then Brandon quivered and began to spurt also, his cum striking the wall and oozing down it. Fuck, he was cumming while the guy was cuming up his ass. It was embarrassing as hell getting your ass filled with a guy's slime, but to start spurting at the same time, I'd have died. As it was, my cock was stiff and jutting up in the air and I had to think how humiliating it would be to stop myself from cumming too.

The guy who had fucked me ordered Eric up against the wall and I wondered what he had in mind. He and the black had just come, for the third time that night. He couldn't possibly be planning on fucking Eric. To my surprise, he took a tube out of his shirt pocket and handed it to me and nodding toward Eric, he said I knew what to do. That was totally perverted. He was my friend, my buddy! And he was expecting me to stick my dick up his ass!

"Com'on, go for it. You'll thank me for it afterward," the guy urged.

"Hell, he'll be thanking you for it afterward," snickered the black.

"Thanking you? After his first time he'll be begging you to do him again."

"And after your first time you'll be phoning him up and inviting him over to spend the night in your bed."

"Yeah, who's going to need girls when he has a fuck buddy?"

I doubted that. All of it. No way would I prefer a guy over a girl! No way was I going to like it, and no way was Eric going to like it. We stood there awkwardly, buck naked with our stiff dicks sticking up in the air and aching. The two men had gotten off three times, and even Brandon had gotten one off. That isn't why I did it though. I knew I'd get slapped around if I didn't, or made to do something even worse. Maybe he'd have Eric fuck me. Maybe he still would. I reached for the tube. Eric shot me a dirty look, and then a look of disgust. What did he expect me to do! I've never felt so filthy and perverted as I squeezed some grease on my pointer finger and then greased up Eric's hole. I slowly inserted the tip of my finger up his anus, just to make it easier for us, both of us, and not intending to stick it all the way in, but the guy ordered me to. It felt fucking weird having my finger up his ass. It was hot, and wet. I wondered what it was going to be like to have my dick up there and my stupid, fucking dick wagged with excitement and of course the two men noticed and laughed about it and again said what a faggot I was becoming, and the leader said with my looks I'd have guys fighting over me.

There was absolutely no way. I was no fag. I was doing this because there was no choice, and if I didn't fuck Eric they'd make him fuck me. They still could, but at least I'd have done him too. I felt filthy and guilty as hell as I stepped up behind him. I was hard, and I was aching to get one off. I penetrated him without any difficulty and sunk my dick all the way up as far as I could and I began to fuck. I'd been hard for hours and it felt good. Fucking good. My cock was hot and throbbing and his rectum was hot and throbbing too. It felt so moist. I wondered if it was shit. That was disgusting, but I didn't care. It felt good. I wondered if a girl's cunt felt anything like a guy's asshole. That was so perverted, so gay. I'd never, ever thought that before. There were a lot of things I'd thought this night that I've never thought before. This wasn't how I'd imagined my first fuck, with a guy, and up his ass. The knob of my cock tingled and burned and my swollen cock throbbed and I knew how it was going to feel in a second. Finally! The pressure was building fast and I fucked Eric hard and fast and the two men cheered and laughed and I began to squirt. I had to have blasted all the way through his intestines and up to his stomach I came so hard, and I squirted and squirted, more than I've ever done before. Eric was panting as hard as I was, the two of us sweating and grunting and snorting, and Eric began squirting while I was still coming up his ass, spattering the wall with his gism just like Brandon had. Squirt after squirt. The two men cheered and clapped and said they had told us how good it was going to be. I didn't care.

I don't remember much of what happened after that. We all got dressed. We didn't wash up or nothing. My cock was still wet and sticky from being up Eric's asshole and my underwear was sticking to it. Brandon was made to wipe up his stuff and Eric's off the wall with ass wipe and flush it down the toilet. They dropped us off near where they had picked us up. As the car pulled away, we glanced at each other, not knowing what to say, what to do. I was embarrassed as hell, and so were Eric and Brandon.

"Oh man, I'm going to get supreme crap when I get home being out so late," said Eric.

"Me too. I'll be grounded for a year!" We began walking home. My ass felt wet and like it was leaking, leaking with that bugger's cum. I could taste dick and cum in my mouth.

"What are we going to do about tonight, guys?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you gonna tell your parents?"

"Tell them? You crazy?"

"They're gonna wanna know why we're so late. What we've been doing."

"And you think we should tell them we've been sucking cock, and getting fuckin' raped?" asked Brandon angrily.

"They're gonna ask."

"So lie. Tell them we were just out having fun. Like we'd intended on doing. Scaring the little kids. Even tell them we snatched some candy. Anything but what really happened."

"It's past midnight. My dad's gonna be furious. Telling him we've been having fun isn't going to cut it."

"Telling him we've been having faggot sex with two men is?"

"We gotta go to the police."

"Oh sure. That'll be fun," Brandon said sarcastically.

"Your dad's gonna ask about that shiner, and that bruise on your cheek."

"I'll tell him I ran into a door in the dark. Into a lamp post."

"A lamp post? In the dark?"

"I'll tell him something. That I tripped and fell."

"Guys, we've been assaulted, abused. That's illegal. We gotta report them."

"Where were we?" asked Eric.

"What do you mean?"

"What was the name of the motel?"

I looked at Eric and Brandon and they looked at each other and then at me.

"Know where it happened? No? What are we gonna tell the cops then? Fuck, the only thing I can describe was how their jizz tasted and how big their cocks were! What we got to give the cops to go on?"

"They could drive us around until we recognize the motel."

"You know how many fucking motels there are in this city?"

"I wouldn't recognize it anyway. Who paid attention to what it looked like? I don't even know what colour the building was."

"They had a red Camaro."

"Licence? Year?"

"The cops can take, you know, samples."

"Oh, that should be fun!" If Eric said that one more time I was going to sock him. "Forget it."

"So they get away with it?"

"I ain't tellin nobody what happened."

"Me neither." They both looked at me.

"We gotta stick together on this Ethan."

"Yeah. The same story. I can't imagine the look on my mom's face if she found out I'd been sucking cock. We'd never be able to look each other in the face again."

"My dad would blow a gasket! If he finds out I've had my ass fucked. . . ."

They were right.

"We were out messing around and just didn't notice how late it was. And Brandon ran into a tree branch."

"Okay."

"Can you smell beer on my breath?"

"No. You stink like dick."

"Seriously!"

"You do. We all do."

I sniffed my pits, and I held my hands up to my mouth and tried to smell my breath. We got to the street corner. Eric and I lived up the street. Brandon on the next block. "Forget about hassling the little kids. We were just goin' house to house, getting candy for ourselves, when we were chased by a gang of guys."

"Why?"

"To rough us up, for fun, older guys looking to pick on younger guys, us. Guys just out for trouble, you know, egging houses and stuff."

"So we ran across a yard and Brandon tripped and got his shiner and bruise."

"How many guys?"

"Six."

"Big. Seniors."

"They had dark clothes. Caps. Their jackets pulled up. Couldn't see their faces in the dark."

"So we ran and hid and they searched for us."

"Yeah they were probably high. Looking for trouble."

"We were scared shitless."

"We were." We all admitted that. That wouldn't be a lie.

"Where'd we hide?"

"A back yard. We don't know where."

"Elbow Park. That's not far away."

"Yeah."

"And that's where Brandon tripped."

"We'll go to the police if our parents want, but we don't know nothing else."

"We tell them about the Camaro?"

"No. The little kids we were hassling might have seen it and told their parents. We don't wanna be connected with them or nobody."

"No car. They were on foot."

"Yeah. A street gang looking to beat someone up."

"And looking for money. For drugs."

"Yeah. They took our money." That we could tell truthfully.

"Yeah."

We'd reached my house. The outside light was on. I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and I was reminded of the slime I'd swallowed. My underwear was really sticking to my ass crack. We headed up the walk together, united. Tonight hadn't happened. As I reached for the doorknob, I wondered how Eric felt about what we'd done. If we'd ever talk about it. If…

Chapter 23
Lessons in Luring

Revelations about teacher Mr. Whiting who is forced to have sex with his students Justin and Jeremy. Told by Whiting and Justin.
Characters:  Whiting 50, Dimitri 23, Justin 15, Jeremy 13
Code:  m/t, noncon.

Like all couples who have been married for a while and have reached middle age and become empty nesters, my wife and I have fallen into a comfortable routine. There are those activities and interests that she particularly enjoys and engages in by herself, those that I enjoy and engage in by myself, and those that we both enjoy and do together. Friday nights for example, she plays bingo with her friends and then she goes for coffee and desert with them afterwards, returning home regularly at the stroke of midnight. That is perfect for it allows me five and a half hours to engage in my secret pastime uninterrupted and undetected. She rarely allows anything to supercede her night out, and I rarely allow anything to interrupt what is my favourite evening of the week either. Nothing brings me greater pleasure than that secret pastime, pleasure I've been secretly enjoying for thirty years, more than half my life, a pleasure I had begun engaging in before my wife and I had met and begun dating.

Dimitri Savalos's phone call today after work saying he wanted to meet me was disconcerting, for two reasons. One was simply because I had been phoned. Dimitri's phone calls were rare but they never meant well, not for me anyway. The second reason was because he wanted to meet me this evening, and today is Friday. His intrusion was upsetting, but I knew it was better that he upset me than the other way around. Dimitri Savalos frightens me. He frightens me very much. My only hope was that whatever he wanted to see me about could be dealt with quickly so I could at least salvage some of the evening. His red Camaro pulled up outside at seven sharp, right on time. Dimitri had a thing about punctuality, along with other things, to the point of being compulsive-obsessive. When he said something would happen at a particular time it did, not a second before and not a second after. To my surprise three people got out of the Camaro. I had expected only him.

Englewood. I had never heard of the district nor been in it. It was an older part of the city, the homes smaller and old-fashioned and the yards filled with big trees and lots of shrubbery. I had no idea what we were doing there or who we had come to see. Dimitri had simply said to be at the corner and he would pick us up at six twenty-five sharp and that was exactly what we did and exactly what he did. When Dimitri told you to do something you did it and when he told you what time something was going to happen it did. Always. When we got to Englewood, Dimitri told us to leave our overnight bags in the car and we got out.

As we walked up the walkway the outside light came on and before Dimitri rang the bell the door opened. The person had been waiting for us, the last person I would have ever expected we were going to see. Mister Whiting! He looked just as surprised to see us as I'm sure I looked to see him. He also looked apprehensive, and I probably did too. I have that feeling every time I walk up the walkway to Dimitri's home even though I've known him now for six and a half months. As we stepped into the house I did not have a good feeling about this. What Dimitri and I were doing was a secret, a secret I didn't want anyone to find out about, and especially not one of my teachers! From the look on Mister Whiting's face he wasn't having a good feeling about this either. I was sure we weren't here for a math lesson, or to play chess, but we surely couldn't be there to do the things Dimitri and I have been doing either. When Dimitri had phoned after school and told me to tell my parents I'd been invited to a sleep over, I suspected it was because he wanted to mess around. When I found out he'd phoned Jeremy too and the three of us had driven across the city I had no idea what was going on, and I had even less of an idea now.

Justin Bromley and Jeremy Faulhaber. My heart sank as I looked at the two boys. They were the last people I'd ever have suspected to show up at my doorstep with Dimitri. From the looks on their faces, they were just as surprised to see me as I was to see them. This was not good, not good at all. Whatever Dimitri had in mind I was not going to like it. Justin and Jeremy looked just as unhappy and apprehensive as I was feeling.

"Didn't want to cut into your online trolling time, but I had to give the boys time to have supper," Dimitri said as he stepped into the hallway. "So, take us to your troll cave," he said, gesturing down the hall. "I figured it was time the boys learned about Internet luring, and who better to teach them than the master troll himself?"

I darted a glance at the boys. This was apparently a surprise to them and they clearly were confused. They didn't seem to have a clue what Dimitri was talking about. Having no choice, I lead them down to the computer room, the former bedroom of my youngest son who was now in his third year of college. I had left it pretty much as he had left it when he'd left home to attend college. He still used the room when he came home for holidays, and the appearance gave credibility on those Friday nights when I used the computer's camera. On the way to the room I tried to think, to think fast. I'd begun doing this before Dimitri had even been born after all. I could tell him the Internet was down, or there was something wrong with my modem or something, but he'd want to check it out himself and he knew technology better than I.

I knew what he wanted me to do and I could take him to some innocent sites or well-monitored ones, sites I didn't visit and where I wouldn't be known and would be tame for the two boys. Of course he'd know right away they were not sites where one went to make connections or I would normally visit. He knew his way around the Internet. I could claim unfamiliarity with the type of sites he'd be interested in, which was largely true if what I'd heard about him was correct. We were interested in opposite genders.

The room Mister Whiting took us to was a surprise. It was a small bedroom, not a den like where my dad goes to relax. It was not that different in size nor appearance to my own, a boy's room from the stuff that was on the walls and shelves, the room of a high school boy. Whiting sat down at the desk and turned on the laptop and Dimitri warned us to stay out of range of the webcam when it was turned on and not to talk while the microphone was turned on, and he arranged with Mister Whiting signals he would use to communicate with him when they were. Dimitri appeared to know exactly what he was doing whereas Mister Whiting seemed worried and confused.

Having made some quick decisions, I clicked on my favourites, scrolled down to the teen-adult forums, and clicked on clubs. That was logical, and more important, it was safe. I was after all an adult, and I ran a school club. That was no secret and that I had such a site bookmarked on the computer wouldn't be suspicious for the boys, nor my wife. The topics discussed leaned to the academic and innocent. I typed in my user name and password and the others crowded around to view the screen.

"That's a great idea," said Dimitri much to my surprise, and relief. "Show them right from step one. I'd never have thought of starting there." I had no idea what he was talking about but I was glad he approved. Finding a question on what to do if you wanted to join a club but your parents couldn't afford the school fees, I typed in the net address of a group that raised funds to support low-income families for that very reason. "Step one," continued Dimitri, "go to sites your intended target is likely to visit to find out more about their interest and possible concerns they might have. Clubs is a natural for Phil, being a teacher." I cringed when he used my first name in front of my students, and I noticed the boys' surprise and discomfort also.

"… and you might find a potential target there besides. Like now you know a person who wants to join a club but can't because of the cost, and that she's a girl because she signed on as Isabel. So Phil jumped in and told her where her parents can go, gaining her appreciation and leaving her indebted to him. When she thanks him he can ask what club she wants to join and he can pretend to have the same interest, giving them something in common and starting up a friendship with her. So they begin corresponding by Email or texting and if he finds out she's someone he'd like to get in bed with, he can offer to pay the fee himself. A small investment for some hot sex later," he explained. The boys' eyes widened and they looked at me as if I'd grown a second head.

"If you want to learn all you can as fast as you can about a particular topic, go to a forum. Nowadays there is a forum on almost any topic you can think of. Like if you want to know what music a twelve-year-old girl likes or who their fav singers are, go to a forum on preteen music and read all the posts. Then you can go to a chat room and sound like you know all about it, or you can even sound like you're a twelve-year-old girl yourself. They got forums for fucking everything, even fucking," he said with a smile. The boys darted shocked glances at each other and then at me. I was an adult, and a teacher. Two very good reasons why I should have reprimanded Dimitri for his foul language. No wonder they were shocked that I hadn't, but if they found out the language I used and what I did on Friday nights, to reprimand him for his language would make me a hypocrite, and seeing me as such would be worse. What Dimitri had said was very true. I did use the forums for a crash course on preteen and teen interests that came up that I was unfamiliar with, and as an initial cruise area at the same time.

"Okay, show them step two."

"Step two?"

"Let's do some chatting."

I clicked on my favourites again and scrolled down to the talkwithstranger site and clicked on the teen-adult chat room and again typed in my user name and password. It was another safe site and one I used often for initial cruising or as a safe contact point with someone I've started a relationship with. Being a school teacher, it was also a not unexpected link to find on my computer.

"Great choice," said Dimitri, again to my surprise. "This site's free and this room is real vanilla. Perps like Phil use it for initial cruising, or as a safe contact place with his target whose search history might be checked by her parents or whose parents might be lurking in the same room."

I cringed. It was like he was reading my mind. That of course had not been my purpose in showing them the site. Like he said, the topics were innocent and it was all very proper in that chat room. Teens know adults are present so they are not about to discuss things or use language adults would not approve of. They go to the site if they just want to talk to an adult because there is no adult in their life that they can talk to, or if they want advice from an adult on a topic but are too embarrassed or too shy to talk to an adult in person about it. Adults go there out of a desire to help young people or because they enjoy the enthusiasm and freshness of young people, adults like teachers, university students, social workers, and ministers. It's an innocent site and one I figured was safe showing Justin and Jeremy. And yes, child lovers and stalkers also go to such sites.

"It's a great place to meet up with someone you're grooming," Dimitri continued. "If the kid gets caught he or she can show how innocent the talk is, and that it's a safe place to meet teachers and stuff. It's specially good if their parents don't trust them and are hanging around and snooping a lot."

One of the frequent visitors to the site, Heinz67, noticed my entrance and said hello. The talk in the general room was about the recent music awards special on television and what Lady Gaga was wearing, or more appropriately, what she was revealing. One of the individuals said their parents banned them from buying her music. Heinz67 asked what I thought of that as a teacher.

"He knows you?" Justin blurted out in surprise.

"Well, not personally," I replied. "But I visit here often and those who do so also, like Heinz67, knows I'm a teacher." What I didn't say is why I visited the site often and what I wasn't saying and I was hoping the boys would not find out was causing my heart of speed up. I typed in a noncommital comment, that people have a right to choose what music they want to buy, but also that parents have a responsibility to foster values, and suggested the individual find out why her parents were against Lady Gaga's music and maybe find a compromise.

"Okay, great demo, but we don't have a lot of time. Let's move on to something more personal and intimate." Dimitri reached over, clicked on my favourites, and scrolled down to girlgirl chat and clicked on it.

"I don't think–."

"I do," he interrupted, using his no-nonsense tone of voice. If he had become a teacher he'd have had no discipline problems in his classroom. When he spoke in that tone you knew he meant business and you didn't argue. I typed in my user name and password.

"Hi Phyllis," typed in Ladybird. Flushing with embarrassment, I returned the greeting and we exchanged innocent small talk about how our day was and TGIF, that sort of thing. "Go private?" she asked. I began to type that I couldn't right then but Dimitri reached in and changed it from 'I can't' to 'I can.' "So has it happened yet?" she asked. I evaded answering and asked "it?" as if I didn't understand. "You know," she responded, "your ." Dimitri chuckled. Justin and Jeremy looked at the screen in puzzlement and then at Dimitri.

He reached over and pointed at the period. "What's that?"

"A period," said Justin, screwing up his face in puzzlement.

"So, Phyllis, have you had your . . . ," he said, pointing at the period.

As it dawned on the two boys they began to turn red. I was turning even redder. My cheeks were hot. "No," I typed in.

"So, as you can see, in a chat room you can be anyone you want, any sex, any age, anything," said Dimitri. "Ladybird thinks she's talking to a young girl–how old Phyllis?"

"Twelve." I could not turn any redder nor my cheeks get any hotter. Ladybird had typed in some words of comfort and encouragement.

"She thinks she's talking to a twelve-year-old girl worried about having her first period. Why Phil?"

Why? How does one explain why he is doing something like this to someone who isn't of a like mind or have similar goals, someone who probably finds doing such a thing disgusting? Why was Dimitri doing this to me, and especially in front of two of my students? He knew why I had begun this conversation with Ladybird. My heart was pounding furiously. I was at a total loss of words, not knowing how to explain why, too embarrassed to try, and feeling guilty and shameful as hell. These were two teenage boys, my students for Chrissake! Ladybird was continuing to type, telling me not to worry and that I was young yet, reassuring me.

"To form a trust with Ladybird," Dimitri answered for me. "To develop a friendship, a special friendship. You see, Phyllis has shared a deep and personal secret, that she hasn't had a period and is worried about it. Now she can ask Ladybird for a secret. Like maybe what it's like to have a period. Or better yet, what does her pussy look like now that she's been having periods. And then maybe Phillis here can ask for a picture of it. Or maybe they can talk about her boobs, or doing it, or whatever, anything to get something intimate on Ladybird that can be used against her later. Make an excuse why you have to leave the chat."

I typed in "9", messaging code for parent is watching, and signed off, glad to have ended the conversation.

Dimitri was scrolling through my favourites. "If you're lucky, when you're chatting up a person you're interested in, the person might let slip what school they go to or where they hang out or information about their family, and an experienced perv like Phil here can zero right in on the person and find out more about her then her own mother knows. The whole idea is to form a bond with the person, and it can take months to form a bond. But, you can fill in the boys on the details how to do that some other time without me around. Which site, Phil?" I looked at him blankly. "Which site is the target you were planning on connecting with tonight on?"

"I'm actually between . . . well, there's nobod–."

He wrapped his fingers about the back of my neck and squeezed. It was bad enough already, revealing to my two students my cruising on the computer, but resisting him was going to do no good, and having my students see me get slapped around would only make a bad situation worse. I had no choice, and he knew it, and we both knew what was going to happen if I lied or delayed any longer. I didn't dare give that link on my favourites list a name, just gbhcc, for girl-boy hard core chat. I clicked the link and signed in. Brianna was on line waiting.

"Hi Peter. I was afraid U were not going to show," she typed in.

"Sorry. Got delayed." I hesitated, and then added, "U know. Parents."

"Yeah, BAE," she typed, BAE standing for Before Anyone Else, or baby. I didn't know what to type next. We had come to a decision last chat and I had been all prepared for tonight, but I had expected to be alone. I couldn't go through with it with Dimitri and the two young boys present. "So we still gonna do like we agreed?"

I tried desperately to think of a reason why not, without getting into details what we had planned, details that I didn't want my audience to know. I'd worked hard to get to this point, and I didn't want to turn her off either. "If U want 2."

"Y? R U having 2^nd thoughts?"

Dimitri raised his right eyebrow and shot me a warning glance. "No, of course not. Sorry. Just don't want U 2 regret this later. It's a big step. I want 2 be sure U R really sure U want to go through with this." Dimitri stared at me harder and tightened his grip on my neck. He had amazingly strong hands.

"If U decided not 2–."

"No. I want 2. We agreed, right?" Dimitri typed.

"OK. I'm ready."

"U got everything?" I asked.

"Yes. Y R going 2 send me selfies 2 right?"

"Of course. I'll start. Sending U the one I just took ten minutes ago." I had set up a file for tonight, a set of stills from a gay pay site. The model was supposed to be over eighteen but the kid looked more like sixteen. I had sent her stills from the same set in past sessions, seductive but innocent shots, profiles with sexy looks, fully clothed but with bulging package, open shirt, bare chest. She had sent me selfies of herself, real ones, smiling into the camera, posing like models on lingerie or bathing suit ads, most recently of her naked from the waist up. She said she was thirteen and looked it, except clearly an early bloomer, as many girls are at that age, two years ahead of the boys in her class. The image I just sent was the boy taking a selfie with his cell phone in the bathroom mirror, thumb hooked in his jockey briefs and pulled part way down to reveal his pubes and the root of his dick. Brianna responded with one of her at her computer in just her panties. She looked so young and innocent and self-conscious. She was young and innocent and self-conscious.

"U R beautiful," I typed, "way hot."

"U2," she typed. "Way hot that is."

The next one I sent was of the boy at the computer, naked, followed by a cropped picture of his limp dick and balls. She responded with the same as the previous one minus her panties. We had been chatting now for six months and she had confessed that now that she was in grade eight she and her classmates talked a lot about boys and some of them, including herself, had engaged in some minor foreplay with them, kissing and fondling. The boy she was especially fond of wanted to go the next step, some heavy petting, and she wanted to and had read up on masturbating on the Internet but she was afraid of appearing naive and neither she nor her friends had done themselves, not all the way, and none of them had touched a boy under his clothes. I had offered to guide her through her first masturbation as a slightly older and experienced, caring teen, provided she provide me pictures of her first solo.

My secret pastime having been revealed, there was no point in me holding back or lying about what I was doing, and I had been looking forward to this night, so I didn't. And so, for the next twenty minutes we texted each other, me telling her what to do and she responding what she was doing and how it was feeling, me supplementing my dialogue with photos of the boy arousing himself, she providing me an ongoing and on-the-spot series of her masturbating, and closeups of her cunt and a running dialogue how it felt. I was very self-conscious of my three unexpected and unwanted guests, especially my two students, and annoyed at their intrusion on what I had anticipated to be a very hot evening. Despite their presence, as the scam proceeded I began to get aroused and by the time we were finished I was erect and praying they could not see.

"So what's next between Brianna and Peter?" Dimitri asked when we signed off. I hesitated. I knew exactly what came next, and what came after that, but Good Lord, he was asking me in front of two of my students, one of them the same age and in the same grade as Brianna. "Com'on, I know you don't plan on ending it here."

He was right. This was just another step, a big one and to my disappointment not as satisfying as it would have been had they not been present. He also knew my ultimate goal. "Well, we'd do it again, perhaps record it by webcam. . . . You know," I said, looking at him plaintively.

"I know. I want to you to tell Justin and Jeremy here. They're new at this luring thing and grooming stuff. What else?"

He knew what else, and I wished he wouldn't call it luring. Embarrassed and ashamed, and hating Dimitri with a passion, I looked at the blank computer screen. "Well . . . when she does end up masturbating with her boyfriend, he's going to eventually want to do more, and when he does, I could offer to prepare her for that too." I was fervently hoping he would, and that Brianna would accept my offer.

"You mean prepare her for when he wants her to suck his dick, or when he wants to stick it in her cunt," Dimitri said crudely.

"Yes," I admitted. That is what I had implied. He didn't have to spell it out. Good God, what were my students thinking? I couldn't look up at them.

"So before he gets that far you hope to beat him to it."

"Yes," I said weakly. He knew it and I knew it and there was no point in denying it. He was enjoying this immensely.

"But you're not a sixteen-year-old boy like she thinks you are. How are you going to meet her in person?"

"I'll tell her I have an older friend, an adult, who would teach her . . . how to please her boyfriend, and being an adult, who would be able to guide her better and who would be gentler and would keep it a secret."

"And if you can't convince her to meet this nice adult?"

"I don't like to–."

"Bull shit, Phil," he said sharply. Too sharply. As I've said, Dimitri Savalos is a frightening man. "You do, and you have. Now the boys know you're a dirty, old man who likes his pussy young, and when you see each other at school next week they're gonna know you pretend to be a teenage girl, and a boy their age, and that you spend your evenings chatting up young girls and getting dirty pictures of them, so you might as well tell them what else you have in mind. If sweet Brianna doesn't fall for your lies, or says she doesn't want to meet this Peter's supposed friend, how are you going to get in her panties after spending all this time on her?"

He knew, and I knew he'd keep badgering me until I told. There was no sense in prolonging what was inevitable, and things could not get any worse now. "I could tell her if she didn't agree I'd post the pictures of her that she'd sent me on the Internet, or I'd tell her parents she exchanged dirty pictures with boys on the Internet, or tell them she'd masturbated with a boy."

"There you have it, and that, is how a master troll works," Dimitri said, beaming at me and winking at the boys. "Except there's one little thing Phil didn't do tonight that he would normally have done while exchanging dirty pictures with Brianna if we hadn't been here."

Mister Whiting looked at Dimitri with this pleading look, and then at us. Dimitri waited. "I'd have masturbated," he whispered.

Holy fuck! I couldn't believe what I'd just heard, and I certainly couldn't imagine it. Can you picture your teacher chatting with a thirteen-year-old girl on his computer and looking at pictures of her playing with herself and jacking himself off! Fuck! He was an adult. He had to be fifty! And he was married, with grown kids!

"So instead of having a nice, hot jerk off session tonight, tonight's chat with Brianna has left poor Phil here unsatisfied, and with a boner," Dimitri said to us. Now that he mentioned it, I noticed that Mister Whiting's trousers were sticking out! Holy fuck! I knew how embarrassing it was to pop a boner in school in front of my classmates. It had to be embarrassing as fuck popping a boner in front of your students! Mister Whiting was beet red. Dimitri looked at his watch "Quarter to nine. Still plenty of time to take care of that problem, and to thank you for the lesson on luring before your wife returns home." He looked over at the bed. "But we're going to need a bigger bed. Let's go to your bedroom." He got up and headed out the door without waiting for a response.

"That's all right," Mister Whiting said, scrambling to his feet and quickly following him. Dimitri headed down the hall without stopping. "There's no need to thank me. I'm not in the mood now, and besides, well, you know I'm not, well, I'm not into. . . ."

"Boys?" asked Dimitri. He paused at the door to the room at the end of the hall and then went inside and we followed. From the size of the bed and the pictures on the dresser and the clothes hanging in the closet, it had to be Mister Whiting and his wife's bedroom. "Well then, we can begin with me getting you hot again, and then the boys can thank you by showing you how you can please them. It's the least they can do for you revealing your secret and your tricks to them." Stepping over to the bed, Dimitri pulled back the bedcover and the blankets and began to unbutton his shirt. "Strip," he said, looking at all three of us. Holy fuck! Us and Mister Whiting?

"Really," Mister Whiting began.

"Really," said Dimitri in that don't mess with me tone as he removed his shirt and dropped it on the floor. The three of us began unbuttoning our shirts.

I never in my life imagined me getting naked in front of one of my teachers, and I certainly had never imagined seeing one of my teachers naked, especially Mister Whiting. He didn't have that bad a body for a guy his age I guess though I had no way of knowing having never seen a man his age naked. Men don't turn me on, and even less so old men his age. He didn't have as much chest hair as Dimitri and what he did have was starting to turn grey, like the hair on his head. I could not help glancing at his dink. It had gone down. He was cut. His stomach was round and hairy. Dimitri wasted no time stripping, and as we finished he piled the pillows in the middle of the bed and had Mister Whiting lie face down with his stomach on them and his legs spread.

Taking a tube of KY out of his jeans pocket, Dimitri squeezed out a dollop and greased up Mister Whiting's asshole. Dimitri's dick was erect and he smeared the knob with KY and wiped his fingers off on Mister Whiting's boxers. As he got on the bed and knelt between Mister Whiting's outspread legs, I glanced at Jeremy and he glanced at me just as surprised and we both turned our attention back to the bed. As we stood there and watched, Dimitri pulled apart Mister Whiting's ass cheeks, positioned his dick so the knob was pressing against his asshole, and mounted him. He had lots of practice and with the lube he penetrated him with no difficulties at all despite the size of his dick and he sank it all the way up his ass until his crotch was pressing against Mister Whiting's ass. I couldn't believe it! My teacher, lying there in his bed on a pile of pillows so his ass was raised getting his ass fucked!

I had no choice. As I felt Dimitri's huge cock entering my body I thought back nine years, recalling the confident, wholesome, outgoing teenage boy in the back of my classroom and my top competitor in my chess club. Handsome and athletic, he had a budding interest in girls and with his dark good looks and athletic build girls had an interest in him. I envied him and the opportunities that lay ahead, sexually and otherwise, and at night I fantasized the two of us robbing young teen and preteen girls of their virginity, a Robin and Batman team fighting chastity. It was an innocent, nonsensical fantasy, one to arouse me, not one I ever intended on actually doing. News of his disappearance hit everyone hard, including me even though we didn't have any close relationship as teacher and student. I was a teacher and had a compassion for all students. Rumours of his molestation and corruption horrified all who knew him, including me. What I was doing I was doing with young girls, not boys. What had happened to Dimitri was different.

Then he returned. The boy who showed up at the door of my classroom one day was a totally different person. He was still devilishly handsome and even more clearly masculine. But there was a calculation in his eyes and a firmness in his voice that frightened me, a soullessness that sent a shiver up my spine. He came straight to the point. How he knew my secret I do not know, but I suspect if he had lead the type of deviant life he was purported to have, he had to have mixed with those who knew of men whose deviation was with the opposite sex, though even then how he knew about me I have no idea. To my knowledge, nobody knew or even suspected.

Anyway, he said he would reveal my secret to the police unless I provided him something, a boy, a boy with very specific physical, mental and spiritual characteristics, a boy like Justin Bromley. He said he needed a tutor in math but he didn't say why the boy had to have the characteristics he specified, and I did not ask, afraid that the dark side of my mind might be right in my suppositions. I watched over the following months after recommending Justin and asked the boy leading questions, and, probably because I wanted to believe, I convinced myself that my dark suspicions were wrong and Dimitri had simply been seeking a boy he could connect with to continue his schooling. Believing that made it that much easier when he showed up several months later and asked me to choose another boy, again with very specific characteristics.

Now the two boys I had chosen for him were standing there watching my rape. That is what it was. I have no interest in sex with those of my gender, and would never willingly engage in such sex. As I felt Dimitri's rigid cock pumping in and out of my body I closed my eyes. I could not look at the two boys witnessing my rape, nor block them from my mind any more than I could block out the look in their eyes as they had viewed my naked body. Having my perversion revealed and watching me engaging in it had been embarrassing and humiliating, but this was far worse.

It was totally weird watching two adults fucking, and especially when the one getting fucked was your teacher. I couldn't believe it as Jeremy and I stood there and watched Dimitri ramming his long, thick cock in and out of Mister Whiting's ass. Dimitri was young and muscular and good-looking and Mister Whiting was old and though he was not fat, he had a bit of a belly and certainly was not athletically built and he was more than twice Dimitri's age. Age-wise I guess it wasn't much different from us and Dimitri, but somehow it seemed weird. It sounded much the same, the two of them puffing and grunting, and I suspect it felt the same too. I glanced down at Jeremy's crotch and saw he was getting a boner. That got me started getting one too. As we watched, I wondered what Dimitri and Jeremy had done while I was away on holiday. Just before I left we had played that chess game where we were asked personal questions whenever we lost a piece, and Dimitri had been looking at Jeremy and touching him like he wanted to get in his pants. When school resumed, we resumed our Wednesday after school chess games and though Dimitri and Jeremy somehow seemed different when they talked to each other and looked at each other, there was no suggestion whatsoever that we do anything other than play chess. Of course Dimitri and I continued to meet for tutoring and sex on Thursdays and I met him for church and sex on Sundays. I wondered if Jeremy suspected Dimitri and I did stuff, and if he did, what he thought about it.

The two men were really starting to grunt and pant, distracting me from my thoughts. Dimitri was fucking faster and really gasping for breath and both of them were sweating. Then Dimitri grunted and rammed his cock up Mister Whiting's ass and began squirting his stuff. I wondered what Mister Whiting was thinking, lying there in the bed where he fucked his wife and him getting his ass filled instead of him filling his wife. It was really weird thinking that and my bone jerked with the thought. The next time he and his wife did it, would he be thinking of when he'd lain there and been the one getting fucked and had gotten his rectum filled with cum? I had a full bone and so did Jeremy.

"That was really good," Dimitri said as he pulled his cock out of Mister Whiting's ass. "There isn't anything as good as having a virgin ass." Good God! That was Mister Whiting's first time! Dimitri was still stiff and his cock glistened with the KY and his slime and Mister Whiting's ass slime. He got off the bed and reaching down, he picked up Mister Whiting's boxers and used them to wipe off his cock. As he squeezed his cock the last of his juice oozed out and he wiped it off on the boxers. I wondered if Mister Whiting would ever wear them again, or if they would remind him of this night. He was embarrassed as hell and just lie there staring down at the bed. I knew how he was feeling. I can remember the first time I'd been fucked as if it were yesterday. Smiling over at us, Dimitri told Jeremy to get up at the head of the bed so Mister Whiting could find out how great sucking cock was. Jeremy hesitated and glanced at me and then at Mister Whiting before crawling onto the bed and sitting at the head of the bed with his legs spread on either side of Mister Whiting.

There was no point in objecting. Slowly raising myself on my forearms, I wiggled forward off the pillows. Jeremy Faulhaber, two weeks shy of his thirteenth birthday, was sitting there before me, naked and with an erection. It was the thickness of my thumb and only slightly longer. He was circumcised. His nuts were small and practically hairless and the hairs on his pubes were short and curly and formed a small patch above the base of his dick. I dared not look up at him and opening my mouth I went down on his protruding dick and clamped my lips about the stiff shaft. The first dick I'd ever had in my mouth, and it was one of my students'. That was doubly embarrassing. Even worse yet, I would have to face him in the classroom Monday with the two of us knowing I was attracted to young girls his age, that I'd had my ass fucked on Friday, and that I had sucked his cock. I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to face him. His stiff little pecker throbbed in my mouth as I sucked on it and slipped my lips up and down the shaft just as I'd guided a countless number of early teen girls into doing to me. Was this what it was like for them? I wondered what was going on in his mind, and in his classmate's. What were they thinking about all this? What were they thinking of me?

If watching Mister Whiting getting fucked by Dimitri had been weird, watching him now sucking on Jeremy's stiff dink was totally weird. He was our teacher for fucksake, and married, and had kids. And he was lying there face down in his bed and sucking on Jeremy's dink. I could not believe it! What sort of adult was he? What sort of teacher? And then Dimitri told me to get up on the bed and take his place between Whiting's legs. Me! I'd never fucked an adult before, and it was my teacher! Now that was totally weird. I got up on the bed of course. I had no choice. When Dimitri told you to do something, you did it. Mister Whiting did it. He liked girls, young girls, but when Dimitri told him to suck Jeremy's dick he did. No hesitation, no argument.

This evening was fucking hot! I'd just watched my teacher getting his ass fucked for his first time! I was watching him sucking cock for his first time! And now he was about to get his ass fucked by one of his students for the first time, and that student was me! How much fucking hotter can it get! I was going to fuck one of my teachers! I suppose I should be feeling guilty or something but I wasn't. He'd had sex with Dimitri and was having sex with Jeremy, so why the hell not with me? Besides, the bastard had set me up with Dimitri. Of all the guys he could have chosen, he'd chosen me! So I got up on the bed and Dimitri told Mister Whiting to draw up his knees and raise his ass. He did. Everyone did what Dimitri told them to do. Even fifty-year-old teachers.

His hole was already lubed and had been stretched by Dimitri's cock so I had no difficulty slipping my dick up his arse. I grasped his hips and began to ease my cock in and out of his hole. I was embarrassed and self-conscious, but his hole was hot and moist and felt good and as my cock began to throb and as I thought about my juice squirting up his ass and joining Dimitri's I forgot about it and concentrated on the pleasure pulsating between my legs. Having your aching dick up an ass feels good. Besides, he deserved to be fucked. He'd set me up with Dimitri. As I pumped my dick in and out of his asshole and my dink throbbed and burned I didn't know whether to be angry or thankful that he had.

I inhaled and exhaled deeply through my nose as I sucked on young Jeremy's dick and slid my lips up and down his shaft as Justin Bromley began to fuck me. His dick I had not seen but being only two years older than Jeremy I suspected it was not much larger, and after having my ass stretched by Dimitri's monster it felt small. I could not imagine anything worse. My secret vice had been revealed to two of my students, they had seen me fucked by a former student, a man I had set them up with and who had to be having sex with them, and now I was being forced to suck the cock of one of them and was being fucked by the second. They were boys, children, Jeremy just entering his teens and Justin not yet fifteen. I wished I was dead.

When Dimitri had approached me just over six months ago and asked–no, demanded–that I select a student to tutor him in mathematics, a boy who not only liked and was good in mathematics but was also an all-around scholar and also involved in sports, was outgoing and open minded, attractive, was decent and of a good moral background, preferably Catholic, was mild-mannered, innocent and vulnerable and could benefit from some firm-handed guidance, my first thought was that he was describing a boy very much like himself at fourteen. My second thought was Justin Bromley. The boy was well liked by his teachers and his peers, a boy who could be a leader and very popular but who was not aggressive nor assertive and who could be hurt by those with a mean streak, and was in fact bullied by a couple bad elements in the school because of his intelligence and timidity.

I had thought–no, I had hoped–that Dimitri was looking for a boy much like he had been, a boy that he could relate to and who could relate to him, a boy who would not be uncomfortable tutoring a grown man and with whom he himself would be comfortable, a boy whom he would have chosen as a best friend. Of course I had heard the rumours about what had happened to Dimitri between the ages of fourteen and now, and the circumstances of his discovery, and I could not help fearing that he had ulterior motives in asking–demanding–I recommend a tutor, but I rejected those suspicions and blamed my own dark side for having such vile thoughts. The boy had been a victim himself. I of course asked gentle but probing questions after I had made the recommendation, and I was relieved to hear from Justin that things were well. In fact when I heard that something had happened and that he was no longer being teased and bullied, I credited his association with Dimitri for being the cause, and applauded myself for connecting them.

That made it much easier when in June Dimitri had approached me again for another recommendation, again with a very specific personality, a boy about Justin's age, preferably a year or two younger, a boy having some similar interests and a similar temperament, again a good, Christian white boy though this time he did not specify Catholic, a boy who was shyer and perhaps effeminate, perhaps artsy. Jeremy Faulhaber of course had come to my mind, and again I had asked probing questions afterward, and again there was no hint that Dimitri was abusing them or that they were unhappy being with him. In fact Jeremy seemed quite eager for his company and that made me feel good.

Now the two of them were naked and in bed with me. I was sucking on Jeremy's little stiff, throbbing cocklet and Justin was thrusting his in and out of my rectum. These were no innocent, decent boys. Both were panting hard and grunting and I knew that both were on the verge of coming. I have never had any desire for those of my gender, and certainly none for those of their age. Yes, I find girls their age or younger arousing and would not hesitate, and have not hesitated, getting intimate with them, but that is totally different. When Jeremy grasped my head and gasped and groaned and I felt his little cocklet throb as he began to spurt his semen in my mouth, and as Justin grasped my hips and thrust his little, stiff pecker up my ass and began to spurt his semen up my rectum, I felt no joy nor lust, and though I had gotten an erection in the process, it was purely a physical reaction to the eroticism of sucking the cock of one of my students and the physical stimulation of having another of my students thrusting his cock in and out of my anus, not from any mental enjoyment.

As I felt myself about to spurt, I looked across at Jeremy. He had his head thrown back and his eyes closed and his lips parted, and it was clear that he was finding great pleasure being sucked by our teacher and that he was about to spurt himself. It was so hot seeing the pleasure on his face and him about to cum and knowing exactly how he was feeling having been sucked plenty of times myself, and how weird it must be for him being sucked by our teacher. I wondered if he'd ever been sucked off before and again if he and Dimitri had done things. Then he opened his eyes just a slit and we looked into each other's eyes and we both knew the other was about to blast and how fantastic he was feeling. And then my stuff was racing up the core of my cock and I began spurting my cum up Mister Whiting ass, and I knew that at the same time Jeremy was squirting his stuff into his mouth. That was fucking hot, the two of us cuming together and inside our teacher. My stuff spurted so hard I could imagine it spurting right through his guts to meet with Jeremy's cum, and I knew Jeremy was spurting just as hard. Mister Whiting was gulping and snorting as he swallowed Jeremy's slime and he was quivering as my slime shot up his asshole. All three of us were snorting and blowing and it was wicked.

Despite it feeling weird, it was hot, and when I thought about Mister Whiting and wondered what he was thinking being filled with the cum of two of his students, it was even hotter. After shooting my load, I withdrew my dick and sat down on the edge of the bed and Jeremy sat down on the edge of the bed beside me, his cock still stiff and a bubble of his cum clinging to the opening at the tip. Mister Whiting sort of half sat up on the bed behind us and Dimitri leaned against the dresser and smiled at the three of us. As we sat there and our breaths returned to normal, he talked about luring, and how Mister Whiting's techniques with girls worked just as well with boys, and that there were chat rooms like we'd seen but for men and boys, and for teens, and where men could cruise to find young boys, and where we could cruise to find other guys our age or younger, or men who would love to fuck around with us.

He then told Mister Whiting how grateful he was for him recommending the two of us to him, and how great our relationship had been and that he couldn't thank him enough, and he told us how he'd gone to Mister Whiting and asked him to recommend two boys and how we had Mister Whiting to thank for having recommended the two of us. Mister Whiting was all embarrassed and didn't look at all like he wanted to be thanked, and he actually looked guilty and remorseful. I don't know how Jeremy was feeling, but I had mixed feelings. I had learned a lot from Dimitri and the sex bit felt great, but I was still not comfortable with it being with guys, and with an adult. Anyway, Dimitri told Mister Whiting he had enjoyed being the first to fuck his ass, and that he hoped he'd enjoyed sucking his first cock and tasting his first load of cum. Jeremy and I glanced at each other. Looking at his watch, Dimitri said it was just ten and we had plenty of time for one more time, and he told Mister Whiting to sit between us and play with our dicks and told Jeremy and me to play with Mister Whiting's dick and balls and show him boys can do it better than girls.

The three of us did as we were told. It was totally weird having an adult messing with my stuff, and even weirder it being my teacher, and it was even weirder yet playing around with his dick and balls. He was an adult, and our teacher, and married and with kids of his own. What would they think if they knew what their dad was doing this night! What would his wife think? Guys like Jeremy and me you expect to fiddle with ourselves and even with each other, and probably a lot of guys did, but having a teacher mess around with his students was totally different. It happened though, a lot actually. You always hear in the news about a teacher arrested for messing around with a student, men with girls, men with boys, even women with girls or boys. I'd thought that pervy when I'd heard about it, but now I'd done it and it was actually raunchy, the three of us messing with each other's stuff, especially thinking that Mister Whiting had girls our age messing with his stuff but never had a boy. As Jeremy and Mister Whiting began to swell, so did I, and soon all three of us were hard once again. Dimitri then told me to take the position Jeremy had, and for Jeremy to take the position I had.

So, we got back on the bed and as Mister Whiting knelt there on his knees and elbows, I sat down on my heels in front of him and Jeremy knelt between his legs behind him where I had been. I looked down and watched as he opened his mouth and slipped it over my stiff dink and clamped his lips about my shaft. As he began to suck and to slip his lips up and down my cock I realized we hadn't wiped it off after having been up his ass and that sent a shiver of disgust, and arousal, up my spine. As my cock throbbed with pleasure and the knob began to burn, I wondered what it had tasted like and my cock throbbed even harder. Jeremy was pumping his hips to and fro and working his cock in and out of Mister Whiting asshole, his cock sliding easily in and out of his ass with the lube and the slime from myself and Dimitri. It was the third time Whiting was getting his ass fucked, and it would be the third time he'd be getting his rectum filled with a guy's cum. That was hot. And soon I would be spurting my slime into his mouth and he'd be swallowing it and it would be joining Jeremy's in his stomach.

It was not long before Mister Whiting was swallowing my cum and Jeremy was filling his rectum. I shot rapidly and my cum was hot and thick and he could not swallow as fast as I was cumming. It oozed out of the corners of his mouth and down and around his chin. That was so fucking hot I squirted all the more. My teacher swallowing my cum! I glanced up at Jeremy and his cheeks were all flushed and he had his head back and was gasping for breath and I knew just how he was feeling as he spurted his slime up Whiting's ass. And then Mister Whiting began to spurt too, his stiff cock jerking wildly as he came, his cum spraying the bed sheet in all directions and soaking into it. Now that was fucking wild! Nobody thinks of their teacher as being horny and spattering his cum all over his bed.

Dimitri looked at his watch. "We'd better get out of here. Your wife will be home any minute now."

We really scrambled. Mister Whiting even pulled on his boxers even though Dimitri had used them to wipe the shit and cum and KY off his cock. We'd just climbed into Dimitri's car and he hadn't started it yet when a car came up the street and pulled into Mister Whiting's driveway. That had been close! As we watched her head up the walk, I wondered what she'd think if she knew what her husband had done. I pictured them going to bed. There was no way Mister Whiting would have had time to change the bed sheet. I imagined her lying down on one of the wet spots where his cum had soaked into the sheet. I imagined her reaching down and feeling it with her fingertips. I popped a boner.

When we got back to Dimitri's it was after 12:30. We went to the kitchen and had a glass of milk and some cookies, and we were just finishing up when Dimitri's brother came home. He saw us in the kitchen and turned to head down the stairs to his room. Dimitri asked him how his date had been and he mumbled that it had been fine and headed down the hall, looking embarrassed and disgusted, like he usually does whenever he looks at Dimitri or me. I know it had to be weird having a twenty-three-year-old brother having a sleep over with two kids our age, and though he had never caught us, I'm sure he knew that Dimitri and I were messing around. Dimitri didn't show that he had noticed anything about his brother's behaviour, and I don't know if that was just an act or if he really didn't notice though I could not see how he couldn't.

So we picked up our overnight bags and went to Dimitri's bedroom. He asked what we thought of Mister Whiting's secret and Jeremy and I both said it was a surprise and sort of weird him being a teacher and all. He said a lot of guys had the hots for young girls, teens, tweens, and even younger, single guys, married guys, guys with kids, guys of all ages, and that it was easier and easier to meet up with young girls and they even had aps like kik so you could chat anonymously through mobile messaging. And he said all types of guys like young girls, rich guys, poor guys, and it didn't matter what job they had. He said if we watch in the news there's guys being reported every day for diddling little girls, and that it was dumb that they were being arrested and that sure they had lured the girls but the girls had wanted it, and often they lied about their age and pretended to be older so they were guilty of luring the men too. He said it was easy for adults to hook up with kids today and that he read a survey that said 71% of today's teens use social media, like Facebook, twitter, Tumblr, instagram, snapchat, Google+ or whatever, and that 88% have cell phones to chat and text and that 92% of those are on line daily and 52% several times a day.

He asked what we thought about having messed around with our teacher, and we both said that was weird, and that it was going to be weird seeing him in school next week after having done what we had done. He laughed and said he could see how that would be weird, but asked if we'd liked it, and we both had to admit that it had been hot. He asked if it was as hot as messing around with him, and we glanced at each other. I had suspected he and Jeremy had messed around, and I suspect Jeremy had suspected the same thing about me. We said it was different somehow, though I wasn't sure just how or why. He said we had Mister Whiting to thank for selecting us. He said that when he was our age he was a lot like us except nobody had prepared him for sex with guys or sex with men and in fact had lied to him about it so he had a really rough time accepting it at first, and that he swore he would make sure other guys our age wouldn't have to go through the hell he went through.

He talked about having a friend who was gay but had never admitted it to anyone and who was his best buddy but because of all the lies about homosexuals he never had as close a relationship with his buddy as he could have had and how he regretted that and how it made him angry that everybody, especially parents and the church and the law, screwed everyone up and prevented them from doing what is just normal and natural. He said psychiatrists and probation officers are ever worse because their job is to help people but instead "they screw with your mind and don't know shit about real life." As he talked he was getting madder and louder. He never ever closed his bedroom door and I was afraid he would wake up his parents, or his kid brother would hear him.

He said the cops had been hassling him and his father again too, over some guy who'd come on to some kids over in Fish Creek Provincial Park and suspecting him. I remember reading about it in the newspaper, and some guy being arrested. Dimitri said he had a good mind to find the two boys and show them what they had missed and what a good time they could have had and could be having. He went on about how it was dumb and how guys and boys are doing it all over the world and not hurting nobody and the cops should be chasing real criminals. Then he smiled, this scarey smile, and said he'd taught the cop not to come hassling him and his dad, taught him real good. I glanced over at Jeremy and I could see he was as scared as I was. Dimitri is scarey enough when he is not angry and talking crazy stuff.

To my surprise Jeremy said he agreed with him, and then he surprised us both and told us he had just come out to his parents and his sister and that he had met another boy who was gay and that they were in love. Dimitri thought that was totally fantastic and rushed out and returned with a bottle of wine. He congratulated him and we drank to his coming out and Dimitri said Mister Whiting had done a good job recommending him because he had wanted a boy who might be gay who he could help accept he was gay, and Jeremy admitted that Dimitri had been helpful and had been a big reason he'd realized he was gay and had come out.

Then they turned and looked at me and that was really uncomfortable. I said I honestly didn't know if I was gay, which was the truth. I admitted I enjoyed sex with guys, especially guys my age and younger. I thought perhaps Dimitri would be angry, but he said when he was my age he had been told sex with guys and with young boys was a sin and filthy and something to be ashamed about and he had felt guilty and perverted for a long time after he'd started having sex with guys, He said he swore that for the rest of his life he would make sure no boy would go through feeling like he did for engaging in something so natural and pleasurable. It was a most unusual evening and all very confusing and serious. Then Dimitri smiled and said that was enough sermonizing and asked if we wanted to have some fun before we went to sleep. I'd been uncomfortable listening to his sermon as he'd called it and wondering just what sort of person I was, especially after what I'd done this summer. It was one in the morning and I was tired, but having some fun sounded good. So I agreed and so did Jeremy.

Dimitri said he thought it would be a good idea if Jeremy and I made love to each other, like kiss and caress and undress each other and stuff, and he wanted to watch. Jeremy and I glanced at each other and actually, after what we'd just done together that night, what he suggested didn't seem so strange. So we embraced and I kissed Jeremy and he returned the kiss. He's actually a real good kisser and I wondered if that was because he was gay, and I wondered if kissing was any different if two guys were gay and in love, like Jeremy and his friend, compared to how it felt between him and me. Anyway, his kisses were real light and soft and I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Dimitri was getting hard watching us and that started me swelling too.

I unbuttoned Jeremy's shirt and kissed his chest and then his nipples and he quivered when I brushed my lips against them like Dimitri had taught me. I kissed them a couple more times and they got hard quick and I unbuckled his belt and reached down and slipped my hand inside his jeans and squeezed his butt and caressed it as I sucked on one of his nipples. He reached down and unbuckled my belt and pulled down my fly and pushed my pants down off my ass. He kissed me as he caressed my butt, at first outside my underwear, and then slipping his hands inside my underwear. I pulled down his fly and pushed down his jeans and we pushed down each other's underwear and kissed some more. Jeremy reached between my legs and rolled my nuts in their sac and fiddled with my dick which was really swelling fast.

Dimitri had Jeremy lie on his back with his butt and legs raised in the air and he stuffed his pillows under him to support him and then had me rim him. I'd seen pictures and watched videos with Dimitri of guys rimming each other, and I'd figured it would be gross and didn't see how anyone could enjoy it. I was willing to give it a try though. It was that sort of night. As I licked his asshole and wormed my tongue inside as I'd seen in the videos, I found it wasn't anywhere near as bad as I'd thought it would be, and as Jeremy opened and closed his asshole and began to squirm, he was evidently enjoying it too.

Dimitri then had me drool over my dick, which was stiff and aching now, and then kneel between Jeremy's legs and stick my dick up his butt. He was eager and experienced and so was I and we united without much difficulty. It felt really great having his hot, moist flesh surrounding my cock. I grasped his hips as I slowly sank my dick all the way up his ass, and he inhaled and exhaled deeply as I penetrated him, looking up at me with his eyes half closed and a smile on his face. I've never fucked a guy in that position and it was wicked watching his face as I sank my cock up his asshole. Jeremy was tight and hot and moist and he pushed out as I pushed forward until my crotch was pressed up against his buttocks. I slowly pulled back until my knob was about to stretch open his sphincter and then I sank my cock back up his rectum and he sighed and his lips curled with pleasure. It was really wicked and I could not keep my eyes off his face as I began fucking him.

It was not long before I was ready to cum and I paused to let the urge subside. We both wanted this to last as long as we could. We were also both anxious to continue of course so we didn't wait too long before I resumed fucking him, and it was not long before I felt the pressure building back up in my loins. I eased my cock in and out of him slowly, the two of us sweating now and panting heavily, and as I felt the need approaching I began to pump my hips to and fro faster and Jeremy tightened his anus about my cock each time I withdrew and then relaxed when I sank back up his rectum. As my cum raced up the core of my cock and began to spurt out the tip, I watched Jeremy's face and his eyes sort of glazed over and he began gasping in short breaths, his mouth wide open. I squirted and squirted, filling his rectum with my stuff.

My squirting finally stopped and we lay there face to face with my stiff cock up his ass, both of us gasping and our chests heaving, my swollen cock and his ass numb and throbbing with pleasure, our union feeling so wet. It had been fantastic. As I finally pulled my cock out, Dimitri puckered up his lips and I knew what he meant. I bowed my head and slipped my lips over Jeremy's stiff cock and began to suck. He was so hot he began spurting less than a minute later, his hot, thick gizm filling my mouth, and I eagerly began to swallow his gooey slime, my head spinning with the smell of his dick and balls and fresh cum and the taste and constituency of this thick cream.

When I finally pulled off of him, we glanced at each other and then over at Dimitri and we reached over and dragged him onto the bed with his. He was stiff of course and hot from watching the two of us. We went down on him, the two of us licking his long, thick cock and swirling our tongues about his knob, causing his cock to twitch and his precum to ooze out, and the two of us dived for it, Jeremy getting the first drop and me the second, and I savoured its sweetness before bending over again and nibbling on his balls, encouraging them to produce more precum for us. His balls were salty and had a spicy, mushroomy aroma. Jeremy sucked on his knob as I sucked on his balls and then we switched positions. It was like sucking on a big, thick salami and I could barely do more than take his knob in my mouth.

We began to lick his stiff, wagging dick again, our tongues tickling the tender spot on the underside where his knob formed a funnel and my spit and Jeremy's spit mixing so I was licking up his and mine just as he was, our spit flavoured with Dimitri's pecker. And then he began spurting, his cum shooting out of the tip of his dick and into the air and falling back down on his wagging dick and oozing down the knob and the shaft. Blobs of creamy cum landed on his stomach and in his hairs and spattered his balls. Jeremy and I stuck out our tongues and lapped his thick, bitter cream up and we leaned over and sucked up the puddles of cum that spattered his belly and his thighs, eagerly sucking up the thick, creamy gism and swallowing it. He squeezed his dick at the base, squeezing out another flow of his cream which the two of us eagerly lapped up, out cheeks and chin and lips smeared with his slime.

Squeezing his dick again, he reached down and flipped up his thick cream, and reaching over he marked a cross on Jeremy's forehead and then mine with his slime. I was slimy and sweaty and stunk of dick and cum and I never felt so good in all my fucking life.

Chapter 24
The net closes

Mike's investigation expands.  Told by Sarah now 6 months pregnant, reveals sex between Dimitri's nephews and her and Joshua.  Follow up to ch 6 and 21.

They told me to take a week off. I went to work the next morning, the day after the supposed panel discussion on transsexual rights and private toilets. I was too angry to just sit on my hands at home, and too close to bringing this investigation to a close. I had Dimitri Savalos and his group of perverts in my sights and was anxious to bring them to justice. I was impossible for me to just sit at home and lick my wounds, not even for a day. Besides, every law enforcement officer knows that when the iron is hot you need to strike or your evidence is gone and your case as cold as the polar ice cap. So, despite the embarrassed looks of sympathy and the discomfort I was going to cause my fellow investigators, I steeled myself for what I knew was going to be an unpleasant couple of days and went to work.

I was right of course. Word of what had happened to me had quickly spread through the station. Everyone knew, from the file clerk in the evidence room to the Captain of the precinct, probably even the janitor, and when I stepped through the doors I suddenly became the invisible man and everyone suddenly had somewhere else to be than where they were. They spun on their heels, became fascinated by the floor, held up files before their eyes, stared straight ahead, anything to avoid looking me in the eye. That was fine, I'd have had a hard time looking any of them in the eye also. The Captain called me in of course and gave me hell for coming back to work so soon, but it was a formality that he had to do. He of all people understood my anger and my eagerness being this close to the end of the chase. That formality over, he called in Jack York, who had been working this case before I'd been called in and who was my partner, and the two detectives who had taken my statement the previous night for an update. They knew the intimate details of the previous night, all of them, and their discomfort and embarrassment was evident. The update they had was bad, all of it. I might just as well have stayed home.

Yesterday had been Friday. The janitorial staff at Marlborough Middle School traditionally did a complete and thorough cleaning of the school after classes on Friday, including disinfecting the washrooms from ceiling to floor and the surfaces of every counters and desk in the entire school. Schools and school kids are breeding grounds for germs and school boards are not about to risk being taken to court and sued by parents for having unclean facilities and spreading disease. I had noticed vehicles in the parking lot when we'd left and had wondered where the occupants were and why we hadn't been interrupted. The janitorial staff had been on the job as soon as school had been dismissed for the weekend and had almost finished cleaning by the time we vacated the building. They had been told a film crew was in the building and to leave the section it was in for last, and to be especially thorough when it left. That was the first reason I'd been driven around for three hours: to give the cleaning crew time to do their job. They were immigrants, very good at following orders, and very thorough in their work. Even the cigarette butt the crewman had ground out on the sidewalk and I'd told the forensic crew to look for was gone. By the time the forensic team had arrived the cleaning crew had completed their work and left and what evidence there had been had been washed away with disinfectant or incinerated. They had nothing.

The lab had done a rush job on my clothes and my samples but as I had expected they came up with nothing either. The second reason it took three hours to take me back to my car was to give my body time to do its job. What the citric acid in the lemonade drink I'd been given and whatever was in the anal injection I'd received hadn't destroyed on contact, the acids in my stomach and rectum and the enzymes in my saliva had. There was no evidence of Dimitri's slime nor Woody's to be found, not a single fragment of DNA. As for the photo that had been left in my door, I hadn't expected them to be so careless as to leave fingerprints on the envelope or the glossy, and I already knew there was nothing in the picture that could identify where it was taken. I knew who the photo was of though, and it showing up so soon after my discussion with Dimitri left no doubt as to who had arranged for me to get it. He had connections, and sending me the picture was a mistake, not because there was any evidence, but it gave me all the more motivation to catch the bastard.

As for the thugs who had transported me to the school and back, they had been very careful not to let me see the licence plate of their vehicle, and there had been no point in searching for them and arresting them even if they were found. They were hired to transport me from point A to point B and nothing else, and I'm sure anonymously or through a chain of contacts that would be next to impossible to trace. They would know nothing that would connect them with the staff of the obviously fake FYB Studios. These people were well organized and well financed and certainly not so careless.

Jack and Sheldon, one of the other detectives on the team, went to the Savalos home to interview Dimitri and determine where he had been that Friday night, but I had no doubt that he had an airtight alibi and so they reported when they returned. I hadn't gone with them of course. My presence and subsequent report would be questioned as a conflict of interest, and besides, I didn't trust myself facing him after last night, not knowing what he'd done to me and being unable to prove it. I had no concrete evidence that he was the man in the burqa, but there was no doubt in my mind that he was. We discussed whether or not to track down the sound boy Woody. He probably would not be that difficult to locate, but we had no physical evidence to link him to what had happened at the school, and I was sure there would be no evidence at his home that would link him to Ross Moiyer and his crew or Dimitri.

As for evidence of his luring of the school girls, he knew enough about computers and the Internet that there likely would be no physical evidence on his computer, but there could be on that of the girls, and knowing their first names, they could probably be found. Woody wouldn't have been included in the scam if there was a chance he'd crack under questioning but that was always a possibility, and there likely would be no difficulty charging him with his involvement with them, but he was small potatoes. It was ultimately decided it would be better to locate him and put a tail on him and see if we could catch him with something bigger. He'd very likely be in touch with the girls again, and with the three boys, and maybe if we were lucky FYB Studios would like to do another video, with him as a star instead of a technician, though the latter was possible too. And, if we were really lucky and tracked down Ross Moiyer and his team, we might uncover a link between FYB Studios and Dimitri. It was decided to focus our time and energy in that direction.

Jack and Sheldon had also tracked down Penner and Kenmore and interviewed them. In that I was a cop and had been unable to prevent the abuse of their sons, and in fact had sex with their sons, it was decided best that I be excluded from having any contact with them. From their anger, frustration, and shame reported by Jack and Sheldon, that had been a good idea. They of course wanted to know how the police had found out what had happened, they themselves having decided out of shame and embarrassment, their own, and to protect their sons, not to come forward, and they were not pleased when they weren't given an answer.

The day after Halloween I was called in on a complaint three pair of parents had made about their sons being threatened on Halloween night. It was not an Internet exploitation crime, but the officer who had taken their complaint was suspicious that the boys were not telling the whole truth and asked someone from the child abuse team to check it out. In that I had experience dealing with sensitive topics with parents I was asked to listen in. According to the three boys, who were fourteen and fifteen, they were going door to door collecting candy when they were accosted and chased by a gang of six boys whom they identified as seniors though none of them had a look at their faces. One of the boys was bruised up but he claimed to have fallen when they had run. The gang took their money and their candy and according to the boys "were going to beat us up" but the boys escaped and had hid out in Elbow Park.

The boys were definitely hiding something but they'd had time to make up their story and were sticking to it. When I suggested the boys be questioned separately, the parents immediately got suspicious, and when I suggested we talk to the boys without their parents we were flatly refused. I tried to get the boy with the bruises to confess he had been roughed up he adamantly denied it, and when I asked if any of them had been alone with this gang or suggested that maybe one of them had been subjected to more than just bullying, the father of the boy with the bruises got belligerent and wanted to know what I was accusing his son of. I suspected the father suspected something more had happened too and was in denial. All that was accomplished in the interview was to get three sets of parents upset with the police and provide me more frustration. There is a high turnover and a high burnout of those working Child Exploitation, and for good reason.

Then there was a break in the Milne/Stark case. A perv had taken his computer in for repairs because of a virus he had picked up and a collection of pictures of young, pregnant girls was found including one of the perv being given a blow job by a very pregnant fifteen-year-old who from her photo detectives in our unit identified as the missing daughter of a prominent and wealthy businessman and supporter of the Seventh Day Adventist Church, Jonathan Stark, who had been abducted in the city six months ago. He of course denied knowing she was under-aged and claimed she was working Hastings Street in Vancouver and had told him she was eighteen. I had not been involved in the case, but others had and they told me that at the time it had been suspected the abduction had involved three men said to be working the area, a black teenager, a Cree, and Dimitri Savalos, and Dimitri and his father had actually been interrogated but no evidence had been found. I flew out to Vancouver the next day.

The abduction had occurred six months ago and had involved Stark's daughter, Sarah Stark, and her boyfriend, the son of the Pastor of the Seventh Day Adventist Church. Both men had loudly and vigorously denounced the government's push to provide student clubs and genderless washrooms for gay and transgendered students, claiming the clubs were providing a venue where they could push the gay agenda. Among other things, they accused the gay population of being behind child porn as another way of raising money to promote their beliefs. At the time of the abduction of their children a huge reward was offered, resulting in dozens of claims and false leads which only hindered the investigation. Nothing was ever found.

Hastings Street was well known by every branch of the Vancouver police department, Vancouver social services, and every perv in the city. Decent citizens avoided the area, and if they had to drive down the street they did so with their windows rolled up and their doors locked. The filthy, littered street was the hangout of organized crime, drug dealers and pimps, and their clients. Posing as a perv with a thing for underage pregnant girls, I had no difficulty finding a pimp willing to provide me a girl. It was, sad to say, not an uncommon fetish and a service that paid well, which meant pimps and whores were provided with high paid and sleazy lawyers to keep them on the streets and the money coming in. Arrests were rarely made as they were back out on the street before the ink dried on the paperwork. In the case of Sarah Stark however, this involved a fifteen-year-old girl from another province and a child abduction and a wealthy father. No honest lawyer was going to defend whomever was responsible.

The girl I was provided was not Sarah Stark. She was older though not eighteen as her ID claimed, a hooker, and an addict. I slipped her an extra forty over and above what her pimp was charging to say I'd had sex with her and for any information she could give me on the whereabouts of the girl I was looking for. She agreed to lie about having sex with me, but wouldn't give me any information, saying no money would do that as if it was found out she'd talked to the police she'd end up in the alley with her throat cut. The people I was looking for, I was told, were very bad. I told the pimp she'd been fine, but I wanted a girl younger, more pregnant. I was told it was possible, but she wouldn't come cheap. Four hundred an hour. For an extra two hundred he would throw in her boyfriend. Acting on a hunch, I paid the six hundred and was told someone would be in touch with me. The department would not be pleased I'd spent that much without authorization, but I had no time to get it, and if my hunch paid off it would be money well spent.

An hour later there was a knock on the door of my hotel room. Standing in the hallway was a fresh-faced, very young, and very pregnant girl with pigtails and dressed in a frilly, flowered dress to make her appear even younger but much too short for a pregnant girl. If it wasn't for the obviously pregnant stomach she looked like a grade six school girl who had stepped out of a family magazine from the 50's. Standing beside her was a thin, dark-haired, sixteen-year-old boy who had to be her boyfriend Joshua. He was wearing a tight sleeveless black T-shirt and tight black jeans. His greasy-looking hair was long, well past his collar and he had a pale, almost white complexion and beautiful blue eyes but they had dark circles, as if he'd had not slept for weeks or was on drugs, accented in black eyeliner. He had thick, pouting lips. I of course invited them in. They glanced about the room with experienced eyes, clearly accustomed to finding themselves with a strange man in a strange room. I have no idea what they were looking for but they were evidently satisfied.

"You've only paid for an hour," the girl said professionally as she began to unbutton her blouse.

"There's no need for that," I said, raising my hand. "I don't want sex."

She and the boy looked at each other and turned and headed for the door. "Your money.

We're out of here."

"No, wait! I just want to talk."

The boy turned and approached me. "Spread." I did. He ran his hands up under my shirt and in my pants, running a finger up my crack and groping me. "Watch," he said, holding out his hand. I handed him my watch and he inspected it. "Empty your pockets." I did. He checked out my wallet and my keys. Walking over to the bed, he tossed the stuff on it and covered it with a pillow. "He's not wired," he said, looking at the girl.

"Cop?" she asked.

"Internet Child Exploitation Unit."

"We're eighteen," she said.

"Of course you are," I replied.

"We got ID," the boy said, pulling out his wallet.

"I'm sure you do. Look, I'm just looking for information. I'm not here to arrest you or anything."

"We ain't done nothin' you can arrest us for," challenged the girl.

"If you want information, look it up on the Internet," the boy advised, looking at me insolently.

"You're Joshua Milne, son of Pastor Joseph Milne of the Calgary Seventh Day Adventist Church, and you're Sarah Stark, daughter of Jonathan Stark, also from Calgary."

"You got the wrong people, dude," the boy said, "and we're outta here." Neither had even so much as flinched when I'd said their names. They turned and stepped to the door again.

"I can get you home safe," I said, stepped toward them and reaching out to stop him. The boy turned in an instant and gave me a solid kidney chop that doubled me over. He was skinny, but he was fast and knew where to hit. "We are home," he said, cocking his head and looking at me.

"You got shit for brains?" the girl asked. "You really think we can go back?" She spread her arms and looked down at herself, and then at the boy. "Do you think we'd be wanted back?"

"They're your parents."

The boy snorted. "You ever hear one of my dad's lectures?"

"No," I admitted.

"Stupid cop," he sneered. "You should do some research before you start promising what you can't deliver. If you'd heard them then you'd know he'd never be able to accept me back. Neither of our parents would. We're seriously damaged goods. We've been contaminated by the devil. We're unclean."

"You're their children."

"Com'on Sarah. He'll never understand."

"Please, let's start all over again. If I had been planning on arresting you my colleagues would have seen you arrive and would have shown up by now. If I'd come here with the intent of rescuing you, I wouldn't have come alone either. I'm here looking for information, that's it. Now, you can come with me and I'll get you away from here, or you can stay if that's what you want. I just want you to tell me about the people who captured you in Calgary and have been keeping you here."

"Oh, if that's all you want," the boy said sarcastically. "We were captured by the Wicked Witch of the West and a band of hairy knee-high trolls. You'll find them living under the Capilano Bridge. The trolls that is. The Witch is afraid of water. Com'on Sarah." I had to wonder what had made him so bitter and negative.

"No. If we leave now we'll be asked why. You know how Scrags gets when he's pissed off. You got forty-five minutes left. What do you want to know?"

"Sarah!"

"So we tell him. He won't have no proof what we said. Nobody will have no proof we said shit."

"So what's the point?"

"What's the point of anything?" she asked dejectedly, sitting on the bed. A lot of abused kids I've dealt with are fatalistic. After being abducted for six months their attitude didn't come as a surprise. "What do you want to know?"

The boy had checked me out for a recording device, and I have no doubt my room had been searched while I was out. Considering whom I was dealing with, I'd figured as much and hadn't bothered. I was looking for leads, not evidence. The preceding conversation and what follows is an accurate record of our conversation though. What the two of them told me, and the haunted look in their eyes and the quaver in their voices when they did, was not something I'll ever forget. I've interviewed a lot of abused kids, but none as badly battered as these two.

"We were heading to the Max convenience store for an ice cream when they pulled up beside us, forced us into their car, and took us to an old barn outside of the city," Sarah began. "There were three of them: a good-looking man who told us his name was Kwame Bonsu and that he was from Côte d'Ivoire. He had the blackest skin I've ever seen, late teens, with a French accent and a faux Mohawk. A huge, ugly, indigenous man in his late forties who the other two called Chief and said was a Plains Cree, three hundred pounds, two chins, a broken beak of a nose, a protruding gut, and braids half way down his chest. The third man was in his early twenties, smartly dressed, darkly handsome, eyes like the devil himself, jet black hair and olive-brown skin. Dimitri something. I don't know his last name."

I retrieved my wallet and took out a picture of Dimitri Savalos and showed it to them and they immediately said he was the man.

"So they forced us to eat a hotdog and a hamburger," the boy continued. "Eating meat is against our religion. We vomited and the buggars just made us suck our puke back up, our own and each other's." They made a face at the memory. "They had a computer and got our parents on line and taunted them about their beliefs and stand against gays and porn, and told them to recant if they wanted us back. Of course both of our parents refused. So they made us strip before each other and our parents and forced me and Sarah to look at each other's naked body, and then this man called Chief raped Sarah in front of our parents and me." The boy glared at me as if I had been the one that had done so.

"The other two men forced me to have sex with them, making me suck the black, and this Dimitri fucking my ass until they came, and then they forced me to masturbate, in front of Sarah and the computer camera. After pouring a bottle of beer down our throats, the Chief raped Sarah a second time and I had sex with the two men again, but this time they reversed their positions. While we were doing it I came," he admitted, angry, ashamed and embarrassed. "Well, by then we had to take a leak and all five of us urinated in this old pail and then . . . and then they dunked our heads in the pail and laughed and said they were baptising us, all of this in front of our parents who could do nothing other than sit in their living rooms and rant and threaten and tell the men what perverts and sinners they were." The boy glowered, his face black with anger, whether directed at the captors or their parents I could not tell. "We were taken back to the city to a rundown hotel where Sarah was raped a third time and I was forced to lie on my back beside her and was raped by Kwame at the same time, and this bastard Dimitri filmed it all."

"The next day we were taken to a house somewhere in the city and locked up in a bedroom," Sarah continued. "Each day the Indian came by with cokes or burgers and fries or tacos or whatever and let us use the bathroom, watching us all the time of course," she said, blushing with embarrassment, "and then he'd rape me, sometimes once, usually more. Then on Saturday Dimitri came by in the afternoon with two little boys, seven-years-old. They called him Uncle Dimitri, which was the first time we'd heard his name and how we came to know it. He made the two of us strip naked and parade before the two boys, and then lie down side by side and he had the two boys rape us." She saw the look on my face. "Yeah, seven." She glanced over at Joshua.

"One boy did Sarah and the other did me," he continued, "and then they switched and the one who'd raped Sarah raped me and vice versa. They were too young to come of course so it didn't take too long before they were ready to do it again. Instead of raping us, we were forced to suck the two of them off, and then after a bit do it again with me sucking the boy Sarah had sucked and vice versa. It was sick. It was the first time they'd ever done anything with a girl, but apparently it wasn't the first time they'd fucked a guy, or been sucked. And they were only seven! One of them cursed continually, foul words I hadn't even heard before. Their uncle asked which they preferred and got a big laugh when they chose me. The bastard was training them to be little faggots!" From the hate in their eyes and voices, I couldn't understand why they weren't leaping at the chance to escape and get revenge. What sort of hold did their captors have on them? I made a note to use that hate later. For now they were on a roll and I didn't want to interrupt them and maybe miss some information I could use.

"A month went by. We were visited every day by the Indian who raped me once, usually twice. You get used to it, his weight, his stink, his breath, his ugliness, him being inside you." She quivered and I knew she hadn't gotten used to it. I ached for her. "After a while you just blank it all out. You're lying there on your back and he's humping between your legs but your mind is a million miles away. You don't even notice if your body is reacting." Another lie. I could tell she was blaming her body for responding, herself for reacting. "Sometimes he'd come with a friend, usually another Indian, who'd get blown by Joshua, but never do anything with me. After two weeks Dimitri came with him and they made me take one of those do it yourself pregnancy tests and the result was positive, which was no surprise. I should have had my period by then. They checked the next week, and the week after that, and then one day a couple guys we'd never seen before arrived and drove us here to Vancouver."

"We were turned over to a guy here, a pimp, and we moved in with several other whores working for him, female and male. We don't know his real name. Everyone calls him Scrags. It's a high end operation. We work out of a house, or go to the guy's hotel room, never the streets. At first we always went together. For the first two months the men weren't allowed to screw Sarah, just blow jobs. I mostly was sent along to ensure that they didn't, not that it was necessary. Johns didn't dare break the rules anymore than we whores would. Mostly the guys were Johns who liked being watched, especially knowing I was Sarah's boyfriend, or got turned on by having a young guy rim them while they were getting sucked. Once Sarah began to show, we became a team. I'd rim them as they fucked Sarah, or she'd rim them as they fucked me."

"So, that's our story. But we ain't signing nothing or naming names to nobody else or on no recorder. We won't do it."

"I can see that you get back to your parents safely," I offered again.

"Already told you to forget it. For one you can't guarantee our safety. For another our parents won't take us back, and for a third, we wouldn't be able to stand it if they did," Sarah said.

"We can take you to a shelter. You ca–."

"Get real," Joshua said. "You think we haven't been talked to by social workers here? There ain't nothing they can do and nor can you. The people here will track us down no matter where we are. There's always Scrags or someone like him who'll find us and return us. And life would be a lot worse than it is now. We know. And even if we did break loose, what good would it do? Sarah's fifteen and pregnant, I'm sixteen. We're not going to be going back to school, and there's no job that's ever gonna pay us more than what we're getting right now as whores. Like I said. We're high end. You know that. You didn't get to talk to us for free. So why bother?"

"You can't be happy living like this."

"Happy?" Sarah snorted. She rubbed her swollen belly. "We're not going to be happy wherever we are."

"But–."

"Your time is up. Go back to Calgary and forget you talked to us."

"And let Dimitri and this Chief and Scrags and all the others go free and unpunished for what they've done to you, and allow them to do what they've done to you to others? You hate them too much for that."

The two looked at each other. "Don't know who you're talking about," Sarah said.

After the two of them left, I sat there for the longest time just staring at the door. I cursed the Captain. I cursed the day he convinced me to come back to the ICE unit. How can anyone fifteen and sixteen years old have such a negative, defeatist attitude? What sort of life were they leading to leave them so bitter and with such a feeling of hopelessness? I had to leave the ICE unit after Dany had disappeared and had sworn I would never go back. So why had I? Hoping to get my revenge on Brown and Iqbal? Hoping to find my son after all these years? He was gone now for nine years. Nine years and two months. These two had been gone six months. What hope would there be for him now? He would be warped beyond any repair. So why had I come back? Hoping to make it up to Dimitri for not having protected him nine years ago? I snorted. Now that was irony. Make it up to him? I was out to get him arrested. I was out to expose him for the pervert that he was. And after seeing these two youngsters and what had happened to them, and knowing he was behind it, I was all the more determined to do so. I would not give up.

The next morning I went back to the street corner where I'd hung out and had made the contact that had lead me to Sarah and Joshua. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I had to do something. The slime ball that had arranged my contact with the two kids showed up, as I'd hoped he would, and he approached me, also as I'd hoped.

"So, you have a good time yesterday?"

"Oh yeah, real good."

"You want a repeat performance?"

"Love to. But unfortunately I can't afford it."

"Quality entertainment doesn't come cheap." He looked me over. "You got nothing you can hock?" I shook my head. "I can arrange for you to get a loan."

I smiled. "I'd never be able to afford the interest. Or do whatever it is that I'd have to do to work it off when I couldn't pay."

"If you can say that, it mustn't have been as good yesterday as you say it was."

Did one of them say something about yesterday? That I was a cop? Was he fishing for information, perhaps hoping to catch me in a lie? Then I caught the look in his eyes. It was a trap all right, but not to find out who I really was or what I was really up to. He was dangling a carrot before me, hoping to get more of my money or to get me involved deeper, maybe to get me hooked so I'd keep coming back for more, or needing something even more perverted to satisfy me, which of course would cost more. Maybe get me so indebted to him or so hooked I'd end up working for him. I knew that, but if I did get deeper there could be a chance that I'd get that link to Savalos or this Chief, or this black fellow, Kwame whatever.

"Do you know who knocked the girl up?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Meeting him and seeing his reaction to what the mother of his child is doing now would be something worth paying for."

"Can't help you there, but I could give you a peak at what the father of her next child is doing to her now."

"The father of her next child?"

"Someone's been promised he can be the father of her next child, a kid. I can get you a video of the bitch and her boyfriend servicing the kid. Hundred bucks."

"I'm not much into porn vids. Rather see the real thing. You know, real time."

The scum grinned. "Yeah, I know. That's hotter for sure. I can hook you up with a live feed so you can see it as it happens."

"If I want a movie I'll go to the theatre. I want to see it in person, not on a screen."

"So you're also a voyeur, eh? Can do that too," he said with a leer. "Four hundred."

"I paid four hundred for hands on with the girl and her boyfriend."

"Instead of being in the audience, I can get you a part in the video," he said with a shrug. "Make you a movie star," he added with a smile.

"No, just watching is fine," I replied, thinking back to FYB Studio and the incident in Marlborough School. No matter how many times I'd showered and how hot the water had been, I'd still felt filthy two weeks later.

I was contacted at three that afternoon and taken to a home north of the Hastings core. They didn't even bother to blindfold me or hide the address. It was an old, rundown home, like all the others on the street. There were bars on the windows and a grill on the door, initially to keep intruders out I guessed though I suspected it was now used just as much for keeping the inhabitants in. The rooms inside the home were small and shabbily furnished. The living room wasn't much larger than my bedroom at home. On one side was a sofa chair and a matching sofa upon which Sarah was reclining watching a sixteen-inch television on a stand, and a small dining room table where Joshua was sitting on one of three hardback chairs. On the other side were several straight-back chairs and a couple folding tables. The former was well lit and there was a man at each end with a camera on a tripod. The other side was in darkness and there were six people, five men and a woman, sitting in the shadows. I was directed to the last chair and we were warned to be quiet while the scene was being filmed. Neither Dimitri nor the Indian nor the black man were present, and other than Sarah and Joshua I didn't recognize anyone.

There was a noise at the door and the cameramen focussed on it as a boy entered, a boy of ten with the typical baggy, low-slung trousers, cap on backward, and backpack. He dropped the backpack on the floor and flopped down on the sofa chair.

"How was school, Gavin?" Sarah asked.

"Fucking boring," the boy replied. "Got a couple pages of fucking math homework," he said, opening up his pack and fishing out a scribbler and textbook.

"I'll get right on it," Joshua said, getting up and taking them.

"Later. Right now you can get on this," Gavin said, jerking his thumb at his crotch. "I haven't gotten one off since I fucked your girlfriend instead of having breakfast."

"Right away," Joshua replied, dropping to his knees and pulling down the boy's fly as the cameramen zoomed in. He fished around inside and pulled out his limp dink and immediately went down on it.

"And I'm fucking thirsty. Get me a beer bitch," he said, looking at Sarah. She got up and began to head for the kitchen. "On second thought, come over here." She turned and went over to him and squatted down. He unbuttoned her blouse. She was not wearing a bra. "A few squirts of fresh milk would go down better," he said, squeezing her right breast. "I might just as well. It'll just leak out and be wasted, and it'll be another three months before you pop and I'll have to share it with whoever's kid you're carrying."

As she squatted there, he leaned over and took her nipple in his mouth and began sucking. The cameramen zoomed in on him sucking on her breast and he pulled his mouth away, showing that she was indeed producing milk. Some girls produce early. She was one of them. The cameramen zoomed in on Joshua too. Gavin was uncut and erect. Joshua pulled back his skin and licked his knob and Gavin produced a clear droplet of precum. I know boys can reach puberty early, and Gavin was one of them. So as Joshua licked up the ten-year-old's droplet of sweet precum, the boy licked up the breast milk of Joshua's pregnant girlfriend. The man sitting closest to me reached down and adjusted the bulge in his jeans.

"You like the taste of my cream, don't you, you horny faggot," Gavin said, making it a statement of fact, not a question. "Pull down your pants and finger fuck yourself while you suck my prick, cunt."

Joshua turned red, whether with embarrassment or anger I don't know, probably both. Sixteen and being called a faggot and forced to suck the cock of a ten-year-old while the boy sucked on the breast of his pregnant girlfriend.

"Good thing you got raped. You'd still be a virgin dating this fruit," Gavin continued. He sucked on her breast deeply and opened his mouth for the camera to show he had a mouth of mother's milk before he swallowed. He was a real showman. "Okay, let's have a good look at that belly," he said.

Sarah stood and stripped before him. Standing there naked with her pigtails and protruding stomach she looked particularly vulgar. "I've given you your treat. Now make yourself useful and get your girlfriend hot. Lick her fuckin' asshole," Gavin ordered. Joshua shuffled around behind Sarah and again the cameramen zoomed in to catch the action as he parted Sarah's buttocks and ran his tongue along her crack and wormed it in her anus. Gavin meanwhile stepped out of his jeans and underwear and stripped off his shirt and stood there in just his socks, his erection, about the length and thickness of my thumb, jutting up above his little balls. He had a little triangular patch of hairs. Otherwise he had the body of a ten-year-old child and his erection and public hairs looked obscenely out of place.

"Okay, come and get it bitch. I know you're aching for it," he said, spreading his legs and facing Sarah. She stepped forward and knelt down on a footstool that had been conveniently provided so her crotch was the same height as this ten-year-old boy. He stepped forward and easily penetrated her. This was not his first time. "Suck on her hole, faggot. Suck the shit out of it. I know that's one thing you're good at. You've eaten mine enough times." Grasping Sarah by the hips, Gavin began to pump his hips to and fro, driving his stiff little dick in and out of her cunt while Joshua fastened his lips to her anus and sucked. "That's it. Your girl's fucking loving it the way her pussy's grasping my dick. You two make a hot team." The men beside me were breathing heavily and the woman reached down and began playing with herself under her skirt. I don't know which was the sicker, the boy or the people who'd paid to watch him.

"Fuck, girl, I can't wait until you pop. You ain't gonna fuck nobody else but me when you do until I knock you up. I'm so gonna be the father of your next child, bitch." He took her breast in his mouth and resumed sucking as he pumped his hips to and fro. "And while my kid sucks the milk out of your right tit I'll be sucking it out of your left and your first child will have to settle with feeding on your cunt juice. I hope your first kid's a girl and my kid's a boy. Then me and my son can take turns fucking his bastard stepsister and when we tire of that we can fuck your faggot boyfriend."

I wondered who had coached him in his trash talk. It was achieving its purpose. Sarah and Joshua were red with shame and embarrassment, and those watching were squirming as if they were about to have an orgasm themselves. Speaking of which, the boy was gasping and snorting by then and stopped his trash talk and concentrated on fucking Sarah and sucking on her breast while Joshua licked her ass and finger fucked himself. Ordering Sarah to stand up and sit on the arm of the chair, which gave everyone a chance to see his stiff dick slick with her juice, he penetrated her again and continued to fuck her as Joshua stood beside them and began to masturbate. All three were breathing heavily and finally Gavin withdrew and sprayed Sarah's chest with his thin, watery semen, resulting in Joshua doing the same. When they were done, he ordered Joshua to lick their cum off his girl's breasts while sucking out her milk.

"When our kid pops I'll squirt on your breasts every day and he can suck up his daddy's cum at the same time as he sucks out his mommy's milk, and the fruit here can suck on his little tiddler and get the bugger all hot and horny. We'll make one hot little family," he said with a leer. "Now, the two of you go make my supper while I rest up for later."

The boy spread out on the sofa and closed his eyes and Sarah and Joshua headed out the room and the cameramen began to put away their equipment.

"I've never seen anything like that," observed one of the men who'd watched the performance.

"We try our best to give you your money's worth," the scum ball who had brought me here said with a smile. "Three more months. If you'd like to be present when Gavin knocks the bitch up, you might want to reserve a spot now. We already have a week fully booked."

"That really going to happen?"

"Sign up now and you'll find out."

I had no doubt that it would, and that they had a week booked. I don't know which was sicker, that they were planning on having a ten-year-old boy impregnate Sarah, or that they had a solid week of customers willing to pay to watch it happen. The woman had disappeared and I suspect was with Sarah at that very moment. Joshua, wearing only his underwear, bumped into me as he came for one of the men. I waited until I was back at my hotel room to read the scrap of paper he'd slipped me. On it was scrawled Get me out of here.

Chapter 25
Ambassadors of love

Told by Jeremy.  Jeremy and Arron celebrate Jeremy's birthday in a private gay teen club and hotel room, secretly filmed.  Secret film introduces effeminate Taoist boy.

It has been a savage five weeks. Like, totally cool and badass. First there was coming out to my family Thanksgiving Day. That was totally lit, but tense too. Although I was pretty confident how things would turn out, it is a huge step and I was seriously worried how everyone was going to react, and at the last moment I almost chickened out. I'm so glad I didn't. Mom and Dad were so cool about it. No kid could have wanted better parents. Janine was Gucci, just as deep down inside I knew she would be. That day was the happiest day of my life. Well, the second happiest. The happiest day of my life was without question the day Aaron had invited me to join him at the Telus Centre and have a sleep over and we fell in love with each other. Every second of that day, and especially that night, is burned into my memory and hardly a day goes by that I don't relive it.

Then there was coming out to Dimitri and Justin. That was my third best day I guess, especially coming out to Dimitri. If it hadn't been for him coaxing me along and encouraging me to mess around with him and with other guys, and making me think about stuff like being gay, and assuring me and stuff when I had doubts if what I was doing and feeling was right, I wouldn't have had the balls to kiss Aaron that night he invited me for a sleep over, or to come out to my family. I know I wouldn't. I sure had figured him wrong, right from the beginning. I've never been so wrong about anybody in my whole life. Of course I was just going by what others had said. When he'd come back, everyone talked about him, adults that is. They were really worried about him and what he might do. Of course they shut up whenever a kid was around so I never understood just what it was that they were worried about him doing and I just sortta forgot about it after a while. Adults do dumb stuff sometimes and are hard to figure, and sometimes it's best not to try. You don't really forget something that they talk about that serious though, not subconsciously.

Then Mister Whiting suggested Justin and I play chess with Dimitri and I figured if he was suggesting it then whatever adults were saying about Dimitri had to be wrong. I mean, he was a teacher and wouldn't be recommending Justin and I go to his house if there was a problem. If you can't trust your teacher, who can you trust? Of course I didn't know what I know now about Whiting. Yeah, Justin acted weird about it and I remember thinking he didn't want me to go. I thought maybe he wanted to learn some chess moves and get one up on me. Justin's cool, but he can be like that. I don't just mean competitive. I mean sneaky and jealous.

Then when Dimitri began touching himself and stuff I'd figured first it was to distract us so we'd play poorly, and I feel bad about thinking he was a cheat because now I know him. I know he is the most honest and up front guy there is, and that he'd never resort to that sort of thing to win a game of chess. He'd never do anything dishonest. I know now that he was doing it to see my reaction, to try to get to know what I was thinking and to understand me better, because he cared. He really cared. The same with the question and answer game with Justin and me. I'd thought that was a distraction trick too. But it wasn't. It was to get to understand me better. And to give me a kick start. When Justin said he jerked off and had been kissed by a boy and had touched a guy's dick, and Dimitri said he jerked off often, it really started me thinking, about sex, and about guys, and about myself, which was exactly what Dimitri wanted me to do.

What really convinced me that what everyone was saying about Dimitri was wrong and a pack of lies was when Dimitri offered to show me how to jack off and to answer any questions I had about jerking and anything else. I had lots of questions, and fears, and he knew it and offered to help. Now that takes a special friend to do that, especially when it is about something as secret as jerking and sex. He had said it was special being part of my first time, and I'll never forget cuming for the first time, the two of us jerking off side by side, and seeing a guy cum for the first time. It was really special, and he was a huge part of it.

Now I know some people will say he was grooming me, like I learned Whiting did with young girls, but that isn't true. Not at all. It was me who hinted about Cory Carson and sucking cock, not Dimitri. Dimitri didn't take advantage of me like a guy would if he was a paedo. Never. When we jerked each other off he made sure I was okay with it and said we'd stop if I didn't want to do it. When I showed up for our sleep over, his brother stopped me and said to lie and go back home but like I told him, a guy can't lie to friend and Dimitri had been a friend to me, a good friend. Looking at porn my first time, and Dimitri sucking my dink and then me sucking Dimitri's, and the two of us doing each other together was proof it was just as hot for him to be part of my first time as it had been for me. I would have never done that stuff if he wasn't there to guide me, and assure me. When I told him I appreciated him showing me stuff and being there and stuff, I meant it.

Yeah, sometimes Dimitri rants and stuff, but everyone gets mad some time, and he's had an especially rough time. He had been abused when he was fourteen, abused badly, and he had nobody to support him or to whom he could turn. Of course he was angry with those who should have been protecting him. And now the cops were hassling him about kids who were being abused and suspecting him, and hassling his family besides. That would make me angry too. Yeah, he gets so mad he scares me sometime. Yeah, sometimes he looks at you like he's looking right through you, and other times he looks like he's reading your mind, and sometimes he says and does weird things, but everyone's a bit strange. It's just that some people are a bit stranger than others. Well, some are a lot stranger.

Like Mister Whiting. Now that was totally weird. Who would have thought? A paedo. Of course a lot of teachers are, so I'm discovering. Almost every week you read about teachers being arrested for messing with their students, male teachers with young girls, with boys, female teachers with guys, or with young girls. In fact you read about it so often you begin to wonder if it happens so often why is it so wrong? If something happens that often maybe that's the way things are meant to be. And when you do read about it, why do the students never just say no? You wonder if they really wanted it but now are feeling guilty because everyone says it is so bad. Especially when people have waited for years before saying they hadn't wanted it. I mean, it takes two to do it. And then they go and write books about and give speeches and rake in the money. What's their real reason? I've got to ask Dimitri about that.

Anyway, it was totally weird watching and listening to Mister Whiting chatting on the Internet and pretending to be a teenage girl, and then a teenage boy, and especially weird seeing him getting all horny and everything. I mean, you never think of adults getting horny, and certainly not teachers. I mean they're supposed to be all so pure and good and everything, and they got wives and can get all the fucking and sex they want. What was even weirder was seeing him naked and watching him and Dimitri doing it, and then him having sex with Justin and me. That I would never have even thought of doing. I mean, he's fifty! And my teacher! Who would have ever thought? Not me. Not in a million years.

Doing it with him was totally wicked, but then seeing him in school on Monday was like totally wack. I felt weird walking into the classroom and taking my seat and I looked everywhere but right at him. If our eyes met it would be totally embarrassing. When he started talking all I could think about was what we'd done on the weekend. What he said I have no idea and when everyone opened their books and began working I had to look over Billy's shoulder to see what I was supposed to be doing. Sitting there in my desk and watching him standing there in front of the class in his suit and tie and writing an equation on the blackboard like I've seen him a million times before, I couldn't help picturing him standing there totally naked and with a boner, which wasn't difficult because I'd just seen him with no clothes on, and boned up, three days ago. All I could think about was that I'd messed around with that guy in the front of the classroom on the weekend. How can a guy pay attention to some dumb algebra problem when all he can think about was how he had fucked his teacher Friday night? I'd actually had my dick up his ass, and he'd sucked it besides. My teacher!

Thinking about what we'd done made me pop a boner there in class. He had just as hard a time looking at me as I had looking at him, and he had to have been thinking about me being naked and messing with him. Now how totally weird is that, your teacher standing in the front of your class and thinking about how he'd sucked his student's cock and had been fucked up the ass by him that weekend? Thinking of him standing there thinking of me and what we'd done made my bone ache. Math class lasted for infinity! So did my bone.

Tuesday we had chess club, and Whiting had to face both me and Justin, and at a more intimate distance. Both Justin and I played lousy. I know why I did and I suspect it was the same reason for Justin. I can't begin to explain what it does to your mind seeing your balding, fifty-year-old teacher shooting his wad, and having him suck your dick, and you squirting your juice up his ass, and then seeing him in school in his suit and trying to pretend nothing had changed. It was more than savage. It was so badass it was super lit. I kept thinking that Justin had to be thinking the same stuff and feeling the same way I was. I didn't dare look at him. If I did he'd know what I was thinking. It was like totally embarrassing, for all three of us.

I hadn't been sure what was going on with Justin when this business with Dimitri had begun, and to tell the truth, I still wasn't sure. At first I'd figured he didn't want me learning more about chess than he knew and becoming better at it, and then I figured he just didn't want me intruding in his personal life. Then when just Dimitri and I played strip chess, I had wondered if Justin was straight and Dimitri had hit on him and Justin had rebuffed him and wanted to spare me the same thing. I was shocked by the things Justin had confessed he did when we'd played question and answers, and at first I'd thought he'd done those things with Cory Carson and hadn't thought about it being Dimitri. Then when I thought more about it and about his behaviour around Dimitri, acting real nervous and stuff, I figured it was more likely that they had played strip chess, and maybe even done other stuff, and that Justin was afraid I'd find out stuff about him that he didn't want me to know. If he was queer, he really had me fooled.

And then came the night at Whiting's which was the biggest shocker of all. When we went back to Dimitri's after the evening with Whiting and the three of us had sex together it had been fleekin. I mean yeah, at first I had been self-conscious and hesitant, but once we got into it, it was hot, and fun and I forgot all about being self-conscious. It was sort of a relief not having to keep what Dimitri and I had done a secret from him anymore. I still wasn't quite sure about Justin. He liked having sex with guys. At least he sure seemed to like it. But there were rumours that he and Melissa Blanchard were an item and he was getting it from her regularly, even in the furnace room at school in the middle of the day.

I didn't know what to expect when Justin and I went to Dimitri's to play chess on Wednesday, but everything was normal, just three guys playing chess. We didn't even mention Friday, and we even sat in the kitchen and had cookies and milk like normal guys, well normal if you forget Dimitri's twenty-three. And if you forget how the previous weekend he'd ranted and raged about cops and the church and everything you could think of and you'd imagined him getting a gun and going on a shooting rampage. From the things he'd said, I'd figured out that he has to see a probation officer once a week, and a psychiatrist, which made the thought of him being a shooter not all that unlikely. I'm not sure why he has to see them except it has to do when he was kidnapped and some guys abused him or something, though why that would involve him seeing a probation officer I don't know. Anyway, from what he's said they keep blaming him or something and dissing him or something and preventing the poor guy from leading a normal life, which I think really sucks. I mean, none of it was his fault to begin with, and the guy isn't doing anything wrong now and just trying to lead a normal life so why? Anyway, he had been mad as hell about them, and when he gets mad it's scarey. Now he was just sitting there cool and everything and drinking milk and having cookies and thanking his mom like a kid.

The next Wednesday was my birthday. Again Justin and I went to Dimitri's house for our weekly chess session. I don't remember ever telling him when my birthday was but he knew, and he'd told his mother. She'd made a cake especially for me and we sat in the kitchen and she served us giant slices of it with ice cream and beaming like I was her grandson or something. Like everything she made, it was delicious. I could not help wondering what she would think if she knew I was gay, and that her son and I, that the three of us, messed around. She seemed old fashioned and she had a thick Greek accent and I know she was Catholic. I was sure she would disapprove. Dimitri keeps his door open all the time, not just when we played chess but even while we messed around, and even when we'd had our sleep over. I couldn't see how she couldn't know what he did. Sitting there in her kitchen while she fussed over me and my turning thirteen while I sat there thinking about her twenty-three-year-old son and I playing with each other's dink was another weird moment. I wonder if that is what growing up is all about?

When I got home I had another birthday celebration with my family, another cake, and of course family presents. My grandparents, my father's parents, had driven down to join us, and my mother's parents phoned just like every birthday I and my sister have had. After supper we played a board game and before bed my grandfather challenged me to a game of chess. It was a typical, traditional family birthday and the end to a great day. Another tradition my family has is that when the birthday of my sister or myself falls during the week, we have a party with our friends on the weekend following our birthday. This year I and my closest friends celebrated at Chuck E. Cheese's, one of my favourite places, and Dad gave everyone money to buy extra game tokens.

He and Mom were so great I felt guilty lying to them and telling them Aaron had invited me over to his place for a sleep over after the party and that his father was going to pick us up. What made it even worse was that they were so trusting they didn't even question it. At the same time Aaron had told his parents I had invited him over to my place after the party, which was also fine with them. He felt bad lying to them too, but there was no way either of our parents would have agreed to what Dimitri had proposed that we actually do. So after my dad loaded up my friends and headed off to drop them off at their homes, Aaron and I headed over to Dimitri's Camaro. Aaron had left his overnight bag with Dimitri earlier and he was in the parking lot waiting for us.

He took us to this private house party he'd said he was going to take us to earlier, which turned out to be of all guys in their late teens and early twenties. It had sounded like fun, but Aaron and I were the only young guys there and when I saw the ages of the others and that they were drinking and smoking and openly groping each other, I got a bad feeling about being there. I could think of only one reason we'd been invited, and I didn't like it. Aaron and I had something special going on, and the two of us together messing around with a bunch of strange guys was going to ruin what we had in my opinion. Dimitri introduced us to two of the guys who were really into science fiction and were talking about the latest Star Wars movie that had just come out, the Last Jedi, and Jeremy and I joined in on the conversation while Dimitri wandered off. I figured he'd intended on the four of us making out and I was thinking more about finding him and wondering how I might tell him I didn't want to do it than I was paying attention to the conversation until Aaron said I wrote wicked fiction and they began asking me about writing. I was still feeling anxious about the whole situation, but it did help distract me.

Then someone began to play the piano and another guy began to sing this song about lovers. He had a great voice and the other guys began dancing in the living room, sort of slow and sexy. I'd never seen two guys dancing together before and watching them was sort of erotic. I didn't know anything about how to dance, but I knew Aaron wanted to do it so I followed him and he put his arms around me and we sort of snuggled as we shuffled about on the carpet. It was rather nice actually. When the guy stopped singing two other guys, with their arms about each other, came over and introduced themselves, and said they heard Aaron was into ballet, and that they were taking dance at a dance school, and of course Aaron and them immediately struck up a conversation. I couldn't comment much and I figured maybe Dimitri had planned for me to pair off with the first two guys and had intended on Jeremy and these two guys getting it on and again I looked around for him but he wasn't in the room anywhere.

Aaron was really getting into the conversation with the other two guys and they were talking about famous ballet dancers and famous ballets and I didn't have a clue what they were talking about and was starting to feel like an idiot. I could also see from the shine in his eyes that Aaron was really enjoying himself and that he'd probably not mind getting off with the two guys, which started to get me jealous and angry with Dimitri. I did not want to share Aaron with anyone, and Dimitri knew how we felt about each other and should have known better. Sometimes he does weird things and sometimes he gets crazy, and when he did it would be just like him to ruin things for us, too busy thinking about what he liked and not about what we might want. That got me feeling guilty too because that was exactly what I was doing, thinking about what I wanted and not about what Aaron might want. He could do what he wanted and if this was what he wanted then I should be happy for him and I should just slip away and find the first two guys and make it easy for him. I knew that was what he'd do for me and that I was behaving like a little kid wanting him all for myself. Glancing around the room for the first two guys, I spotted Dimitri coming toward us, with a Chinese guy behind him, a young guy who looked maybe a year or two older than I.

"Jeremy, Aaron, I want you to meet my saviour," he said, turning to his companion. "This is Wang Zheng Ming."

Placing his hands together and closing his eyes, he bowed to us. "I keep telling you, Dimitri, not to call me so," he said softly with a modest smile and nod and lowering his eyes.

"And I keep telling you, I will, for the rest of this life and all lives to come, because it is true." He looked at us. "If it were not for Ming here, I would not be alive today."

"Some would say perhaps that is not a good thing."

Dimitri laughed. A real laugh, one that comes from the heart and sounds like he really is amused. It isn't a laugh you hear Dimitri express often and you recognize it when you do hear it. "You are right. You are always right. How can you have the wisdom of a greybeard and still have peach fuzz?" he joked, reaching out and stroking the boy's chin. Dimitri joking? That is even more rare.

"I met Ming eight months after I'd been kidnapped, just after my fifteenth birthday, and I'd hit rock bottom. For eight months I'd been fighting my captors. Every moment I was awake I looked and plotted for ways to escape or to let someone know that I was being held against my will. I was beaten repeatedly, making sure of course that the bruises didn't show, my pubes were shaved, and I was forced to have sex with the ugliest, coarsest men that could be found, and to do other things that no decent person could possibly imagine and would make you sick to your stomach. I had never felt so down in my life, so low I'd even tried slashing my wrists hoping to die. I took whatever drugs they wanted me to take to block out what was happening, and in the hopes they'd accidentally overdose me. That wasn't to be." He glanced over at Ming as if that last sentence had some special meaning.

"And then I met Ming and everything changed. My captors had paired us up for a porn video. We played the role of two kids working the streets for the same pimp and who fall in love with each other. Two good-looking teens with great bodies getting it on–it sold so well we were matched up for several more videos, insipid plots with lots of sex. Ming was so complacent I thought at first he was a little fag who loved having sex with guys and I despised him. I'd been told all my life that it was a sin for a guy to have sex with another guy, and if a guy found pleasure in it he was a sinner and a sicko. Then when I discovered he hated it as much as I did, I pitied him. I figured he was simple-minded and a coward." Dimitri smiled. "I couldn't have been more wrong." Dimitri self-depreciating? This was not the Dimitri I knew. "Ming saved me from self-destruction."

"I only showed you the path. It was your choice to follow it."

Aaron and I looked at them both and glanced at each other. I had no idea what either was talking about.

"I asked Ming when he'd been a captive and he told me two years. I asked when he'd decided to give up and stop fighting, and he replied," Dimitri said with a smile as he glanced at Ming, "that he had never given up nor stopped fighting, and that in fact he was winning. Well, I'd figured he'd really lost it, you know, but once he explained what he meant, it was so simple it blew me away. He explained to me that he was taught there are three ways of looking at things, three philosophies. The oldest philosophy, Confucianism, teaches that we must conform to the standards of an ideal society. You know, obey the laws and customs, follow the rules, do as your parents say, dress as your peers dress, don't think for yourself, do what you're told to do, all that crap. That was what I had done all my life. That was what I was doing then. I didn't know any better, that there was any other way. So I was feeling guilty and miserable as hell because what I was being forced to do was the very opposite of everything I'd been told was decent and correct, everything I was told good people didn't do, and physically I was enjoying it.

Then there's Buddhism. Budda believed that life is full of suffering and taught that to survive one must overcome ignorance and reject all attachments, material and otherwise. You know, live like a monk, lead the simple and faithful life, a life of chastity and poverty. That's not all that different from what Catholics are told actually. You know, we are born sinners and can only be saved if we repent and renounce our sins and accept Jesus and follow the Bible and all that crap. If my mother had not been born to Greek Orthodox parents she would have made a good Buddhist. So there I was, full of guilt and feeling filthy and destined for eternal damnation because of it.

And then there is Taoism. Lao-tzu tells us we are not to conform to the dictates of society but are actually to ignore them, and we are not to mindlessly follow rituals with blind faith, but instead we should seek to conform only with the underlying pattern of the universe, the Tao, the Way. We are to do nothing strained or artificial or unnatural. It is through spontaneous compliance with the impulses of one's own essential nature that one achieves unity with the Tao and derives power, To, so one can transcend even the distinction of life and death. You know, go with the flow and accept that what happens has a purpose even if it is beyond your comprehension. You see?"

I shook my head. I had no idea what he meant. He told us again how angry it made him that everybody, especially parents and the church and the law, screwed everyone up and prevented them from doing what is just normal and natural, and that psychiatrists and probation officers were even worse because their job is to help people but instead they screw with your mind and don't know shit about real people and real life. I remembered how he'd ranted about the cops hassling him and his father over some guy who'd come on to some kids over in Fish Creek Provincial Park and accusing him, and how he'd said he had a good mind to find the two boys and show them what they had missed and what a good time they could have had and could be having. It's when he talks like that he really scares me.

"It's like this. Say a person is gay. He has three choices. He can conform to what society says, which in this country, especially here in the west, and in most of the world today says heterosexuality is the norm and the right way to be. That attitude might be changing but it is still the majority view, and a strongly held one. So, your first choice is to hide the fact you are gay, or better yet, deny it and become straight. That's the law. Your second choice is to accept that you are gay and that it is wrong and sinful and filthy, like the church says and most people believe, and live a life of suffering and guilt for being what you are. The third choice is to accept that is the way you are, that it is your nature and the way you are meant to be, and screw everyone else and what they think. Which is what you did, Jeremy. You said fuck everyone and came out.

The way Ming looked at what had happened was that there was a reason he was captured and being forced to do what he was doing. He told me he had no idea what that reason was but that didn't matter. He accepted there was a reason and went on with his life. That's how he saved me. The way I see it, we were both kidnapped so we would meet each other. Because of that meeting, I saw the hypocrisy of the church, and of the legal system, and of society. I learned to see through the lies, and to see the truth. I learned to accept who I am and became strong. I survived everything they threw at me and became a better person because of it. I vowed when I broke loose from my captors I'd share that awareness with others so they could achieve the potential within them, just as I had, and so they wouldn't go through the guilt and angst that I'd gone through, others like you, and like Justin. Boys are meant to play with boys, and with men." He smiled. "But enough seriousness and philosophy. This is your birthday celebration. Let's split so you two can go celebrate."

Dimitri dropped us off at a hotel and gave us the key for a room he'd paid for and told us he would see us in the morning. When we entered the room we found a coupon and money for a pizza and soda, a bottle of wine in a bucket of ice, several bags of chips, and a note from Dimitri wishing me a happy birthday. On our way to the hotel I'd thought about what he'd said earlier and tried to make some sense out of it, but it was too confusing. One conclusion I did arrive at however was that I felt bad about my earlier suspicions about Dimitri. He hadn't been trying to ruin things for me and Aaron. He was trying to make us happy, in his way. Tonight he'd revealed to me that he wasn't this tough, heartless, manipulating guy he pretended to be and everyone claimed he was, but had a soft, gentle side, and was packing a lot of hurt.

Well, Aaron and I looked at each other and over at the bed and we embraced and kissed and shuffled over to the bed. We had the entire night and no worry of anyone coming in and discovering us. We stripped each other slowly, taking time to enjoy each other's body. Messing around with Aaron was different from doing it with other guys. With other guys it was just sex, getting boned up and getting off. With Aaron it was love. It was enjoying his body and enjoying getting him aroused, and enjoying him messing around with my balls and my dick and getting me horny. I caressed his smooth chest and nibbled and licked his teats, causing them to become firm and he did the same to me until my teats burned. I caressed his smooth, compact ass as we kissed and he ran his middle finger up my ass crack and rubbed my pucker with the tip. His body smelled of ivory soap and his hair of lavender.

Sitting up at the head of the bed, I spread my legs and watched as Aaron knelt between my legs and went down on me. Getting your dick sucked is great, but even greater is being able to watch a guy as he is doing it. Aaron closed his eyes and his cheeks sunk in as he began to suck, and you could see he was enjoying doing it. Telling a guy to suck your cock is used as an insult, but really, it is one of the greatest things a guy can do to another guy, and one of the most sincere ways to show how much you love a guy. I mean, if you are willing to take a guy's dink in your mouth and suck on it, you gotta really love the guy, and if you enjoy it, there's no question of your love.

That was the best thing about having sex with Aaron, the love. It was way more than just getting your balls off, and way better. He wanted to please me, to make me feel good, not because he wanted something from me, not because I had any power over him, but because he wanted to because he loved me. And when a guy does things because he wants to, you know he loves you, and you want to make him feel just as good as he is making you feel because you love him back. Breathing deeply, I leaned back against the headboard and concentrated on the throbbing of my stiff cock and the itching of my knob and how glad I was that I was a guy. I thought about how great it feels getting one off and of me squirting my stuff in Aaron's mouth. That is another great thing about Aaron. Some guys will suck but they won't take another guy's cum in their mouth, and of those who do, many spit it out instead of swallowing. Cum has a taste and a texture like nothing else I know of and I can understand why some guys feel that way, but for me, if you take a guy's cum in your mouth and swallow has a lot to do with love too. To me, squirting in a guy's mouth and having him swallow your cum isn't dirty or a power thing, certainly not if the other guy wants it. Aaron wants it. He loves it. Personally, I love the flavour of Aaron's cum, and its gooey texture. Taking it in my mouth and swallowing it is proof of my love for him.

Some guys prefer to sixty-nine, but I don't. I want to watch my lover sucking my cock, and swallowing my cum. I want to concentrate on the pleasure pulsating through my cock as I approach my climax, and on the jolts of pleasure that pierce my cockhead and shoot up my swollen stem, and on the way my peehole burns as I squirt out my juice. I want to focus totally on my pleasure, and on the pleasure on the face of the person sucking me as he drinks my cum. And that is what I did. Aaron had done me often enough that he knew from the way I reacted when I was about to cum, and he knew how and when to clamp his lips tight below my knob to stop me. He also knew when it was time to let it happen. When it did I inhaled deeply and tensed every muscle in my body, as if focussing every ounce of energy into squirting my stuff. That is how it felt too. I blasted so hard I'm surprised I didn't blow Aaron's brains out, and I squirted spurt after spurt in rapid succession so he couldn't possibly swallow fast enough. My thick slime filled his mouth and leaked out the corners of his mouth and down and around his chin as his Adam's apple bobbed rapidly as he swallowed my goo. It was fleekin.

When we were done, we switched places, Aaron sitting at the head of the bed and leaning back against the pillows and the headboard and watching me as I knelt between his legs and licked and nibbled on his stiff cock and his balls. I like to swirl my tongue around over his knob like I'm licking an ice cream cone, and I especially like to glance up through the tops of my eyeballs and see the beam of pleasure on his face as I do so. He of course immediately oozed out drop after drop of precum which I eagerly lapped up, causing Aaron to groan and gasp with pleasure.

After sucking me off, he was hot as hell and super sensitive, so I knew to go slow and to avoid the extra sensitive spots like the rim of his knob and the spot on the underside of his cock where his knob splits to form a funnel. When you do a person often and love him, you know their special pleasure spots and how to read their reaction. One problem with going second is that I love the taste of cock and it is difficult to control my zest and go slow. I love the fragrance of Aaron's cock too, which is sort of a combination of raw wiener and mushroom and which causes my saliva to flow like fresh baking does to others. As I slipped my lips down his shaft and began to ease my mouth up and down his prick as I sucked on it, I knew the pleasure he was feeling, and that doubled my own pleasure. That is the other thing about love. You get just as much pleasure out of your partner's arousal as you do out of yours, more in fact. Like Aaron, I went slow and clamped my lips tight below his knob to stop him from shooting, but also like Aaron, I knew when it was time to let it happen. When he came I let his cum collect in my mouth until my cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk's and I savoured his slime, the taste and the texture, before swallowing it, and as I felt his slime ooze down my throat I shivered with delight.

I sucked him dry and when we were done we embraced and kissed. It is awesome to kiss and taste your own dick and cum on your lover's lips, and knowing he can taste his dick and cum on your lips. I can think of nothing more erotic than the smell of your dick and cum on your lover's breath, and knowing your breath smells of his. And so we snuggled, our naked bodies hot and flushed and pressed together as we inhaled each other's hot, moist breath. Our stiff dinks slowly grew limp and lay along our thighs, warm and wet. We finally opened up the wine and bags of munchies and talked, about how great we'd just felt, about the party we'd been to and the guys we'd met, about Wang Zheng Ming, and about Dimitri.

"He's a strange one," Aaron observed.

"Yeah. But I guess anyone who went through what he went through would be strange."

"I suppose. But I don't trust him."

"Regarding?"

"Well, like getting this room for us to be alone and paying for it, and providing us the wine and snacks and money for pizza. And taking us to that party and stuff and introducing us to that Wang Ming. Like why? Why is he doing it? We're like half his age. What is he expecting in return?"

"He hasn't said he's expecting anything," I said defensively, feeling guilty I guess because I'd wondered the same thing back at the party, and because I felt bad thinking that stuff and suspecting him when he's been so good to me.

"What about all this talk of his about us starting a gay-straight alliance club at Saint Joseph's?"

"What about it?"

"Why does he care?"

"Because he cares. He doesn't want guys going through all the guilt and shame and everything he went through when he was our age thinking it was wrong to find pleasure in having sex with other guys. You heard what he told us tonight, that he wanted to make sure other guys had the same acceptance and awareness of who they are as he does." Aaron frowned. "What?"

"My dad says forming alliance clubs is like shooting fish in a barrel. That people promoting them are gays who want to use the clubs to convert straight boys into becoming gay, and child molesters who can use the clubs to find their victims."

"Is that what you think Dimitri's purpose is? To turn straight boys gay and to prey on kids?"

"He did blackmail Whiting into providing him Jason's name, and yours."

"And I'm glad that he did. Dimitri helped me accept being gay, and to come out. And if he hadn't done that, we wouldn't have become an item."

"And for that I'm glad."

"So instead of being suspicious of Dimitri, you should be thanking him."

"I will. In my prayers every night. Right after thanking Jesus and before thanking Mohammed."

"Mohammed?"

"I'm hedging my bets. I'm not taking any chances on anything as important as my afterlife. And though I'll thank him, I still don't trust him."

"You're crazy," I said with a smile.

"And cute."

"Can't argue that."

We embraced and kissed. We had an entire night together totally alone and we were wasting time discussing the merits and faults of Dimitri Savalos. Aaron was absolutely right. We had a lot to thank Dimitri for, but that didn't make him any less of a strange duck or any less scarey. Aaron began to suck on my right nipple and I reached over and fiddled with his limp dink and rolled his balls in their sack. His dick and my nipple were both soon hard and burning and we forgot about Dimitri. As I stroked his swollen dick, Aaron reached behind me and ran his middle finger up my butt crack and he wiggled the tip of his finger against my asshole. Slipping his finger in his mouth and wetting it, he pressed the tip against my anus and eased his finger into my rectum. As he slowly began to finger fuck me, our lips met and I French kissed him. My tongue in his mouth and his finger up my ass, my cock throbbed and ached to be in his body and my anus burned and ached to have his dick stretching it.

I raised my ass on a couple pillows and spread my legs and Aaron knelt between them and smiled down at me happily. My hole was lubed with his spittle and eager to be penetrated by something better than his finger, and Aaron was eager to penetrate me with exactly what I wanted. And so he shuffled forward and I wiggled into position so between the two of us the tip of his stiff dick was pressed against my hole. I pushed out to open my sphincter and he pushed forward. His spittle provided enough lubrication for the two of us and his stiff dick slowly slipped into me. I inhaled deeply as I felt him penetrating me. I have no idea how it is for a girl, but there is no greater feeling a guy can have than the feeling of having another guy penetrating him, of feeling another guy sink his dink inside his body. I figure it, it has to be better for two guys because a guy has a dick and so he knows how it feels to have it inside another person's body. A girl can only be penetrated so can only know half the joy.

I suppose thickness and length make a difference, but to me it is the fact that another boy has penetrated me and has that most private, most sensitive part of his body inside me that is most important. There can be no greater expression of one's love than to have him inside you. Aaron paused to delight being inside me, and to give me time to relish him being inside me too. That is what it is like when you are in love, to care enough about the other person to think of them before yourself. He pushed forward until his hairs were brushing against my balls and he paused again to enjoy having his cock surrounded by my flesh. As he slowly drew back and his stiff shaft eased out until his knob was at my entrance, my anus burned. He paused again and then slowly eased his cock back up my rectum until once again his hairs were brushing against my balls.

He paused still again and as he looked down at me, his moist lips parted into a smile and his eyes sparkled. Fucking face to face is my favourite position. Seeing the look of pleasure and love and gratitude in your fucker's face is as pleasurable as the throbbing at our union. I know seeing the same expression on Aaron's face when I top him gives me a rush that makes me want to cum right then and there. We continued to look into each other's eyes as Aaron began to pump his hips to and fro and as his cock eased in and out of me, and I clenched my sphincter closed about his rigid shaft.

Aaron's breathing became more laboured and his thrusts more irregular and desperate and I knew why. The thought of him filling me with his seed sent an ache through my loins and I imagined how it was going to feel. My lover was about to ejaculate and leave behind inside me a part of him. There is no pleasure greater than that of ejaculation, and he was about to experience that pleasure because of me. We were about to experience it together. He was gasping for breath now as he gave in to that drive and thrust his cock in and out of me, anxious to achieve that peak of ecstasy. I felt his cock throb hotly inside me and then his seed begin to spurt up my rectum, his semen penetrating deep up my bowls and filling them with thick puddles of thick slime. He scrunched his face as if in pain, and I knew it was the most powerful and most delightful pain a boy can feel. Spurt after spurt filled me until at last he collapsed on top of me, drained of strength and of seed.

He slowly withdrew and we exchanged places almost in a daze, and as he lie where I had lain and spread his legs I crouched between them and rimmed his dank hole, running my tongue over his rosebud and lapping at it eagerly, worming the tip of my tongue into it, and pressing my lips over it and blowing my spittle into it. He trembled and sucked in his breath with pleasure as I filled the entry of his love channel with my spittle and forced my tongue into his opening to prepare it for my straining cock. Then straightening up, I shuffled forward and placed the tip of my stiff, eager prick at the entry to his spit-slick hole and pushed forward. My cock was narrow and steel-hard and he was eager and primed. I entered easily and as I slid into him I gazed down into his beautiful eyes and he smiled up at me, delighting in being penetrated as much as I was delighting in entering him.

I shoved my cock in as deeply as I could and bent over him and we kissed, the lips that had been pressed against his dank asshole now pressed against his lips. I French kissed him, the tongue that I had wormed into his rectum now thrust into his mouth, and he sucked on my tongue eagerly and delightfully and his cock, still stiff and slick with my ass slime, jerked and wagged in excitement and pleasure, a bubble of his semen capping the opening. I began to fuck him slowly. Having just been fucked, I was already on the verge of cumming, and I knew it would take all my effort to hold back. Hold back I did. I wanted this pleasure of our union to last as long as possible, and I wanted him to experience the same pleasure of being stuffed by my cock as I'd felt being stuffed by his. I'll never know what it is like to feel myself in a girl, but I can't imagine it can be anywhere close to how great it feels to be in another boy. When you are in another boy, you know that he knows what it feels like to penetrate another boy. He knows what it is like to squirt your stuff in another boy's body and knowing that doubles the pleasure.

Even though I was slow and paused frequently, after being fucked and having my rectum full of Aaron's slime, I could not delay my own orgasm for long. I was eager to experience the pleasure of filling my beloved's asshole with my seed, and he was eager so share the pleasure of my orgasm. As when he had fucked me, I studied his face as I felt the twinge in my groin and I felt my semen gush up the core of my cock and begin squirting up his rectum, and the look of delight not just with the physical pleasure of being filled with cum but the pleasure of knowing the pleasure you have brought your lover is something that cannot be described. I quivered with the ecstasy of my orgasm, my face hot and flushed with arousal, and as I spurted my seed up Aaron's asshole I leaned over and our lips met in a long kiss.

We ordered the pizza and soda and snuggled while we waited. It was midnight. It had been a great day, and an awesome night. I was thirteen now, and I was in love, madly in love. As I looked down at Aaron curled in my arms and thought about what we had, I thought maybe starting up a gay-straight alliance so others could experience what I was experiencing was not such a bad idea. Ambassadors of love Dimitri had called us. It had a nice ring to it. Aaron smiled up at me as if reading my thoughts and we reached for each other's dink simultaneously.

Chapter 26
Here there be monsters

Told by Justin.  Justin celebrates his fifteenth birthday with a special treat from Dimitri and then joins Dimitri in helping two young boys teach their abusive father a lesson, learning about masochism, crossdressing, Dimitri, and himself.
Characters: Cory 15, Stanley 12, Sean 8, Justin, Dimitri 23

I woke the morning of my birthday with mixed emotions. It was Thursday, the day I normally tutored Dimitri in mathematics, or more accurately, the day Dimitri tutored me in how to engage in fag sex. I honestly don't know which I was looking forward to more, the birthday party with my family that I traditionally had on the day of my birthday, tutoring Dimitri in Grade 10 geometry which I'd just learned that week from Whiting the Molester, or learning a new sex technique or perversion from Dimitri. Seriously. I do not know. Seven months ago when Whiting had encouraged me to begin tutoring Dimitri I thought I knew who I was and what I wanted. I certainly hadn't any idea what I was getting myself into. Not a clue.

When I arrived at Dimitri's, I found the dining room decked out with ribbons and balloons and Mrs. Savalos waiting for me with a motherly grin and a huge platter of loukoumades, large golden-brown balls of fried dough sweetened with honey and sprinkled with cinnamon and chopped nuts which I'd come to love along with half a dozen other pastries. Why Dimitri isn't two hundred kilos and doesn't have a mouth of sugar-rotted teeth I'll never understand. As I helped myself to my third pastry, Dimitri's gift, a thick chain-link necklace with a Celtic cross, hanging from my neck, I could not help wondering what she was thinking.

She had to find it strange that her twenty-three-year-old son was celebrating the birthdays of two boys in their teens, that he had given me an obviously very expensive gift, and that I was spending three days a week with him, playing chess on Wednesdays along with Jeremy and tutoring him on Thursdays after school, and on Sundays attending church and having dinner with the whole family before going to his room to supposedly tutor him. I know his sisters and brothers found it strange and suspicious, especially his youngest brother. I've seen the looks they've exchanged as we've headed off to his room. They've never intruded. They wouldn't dare. But he left the door wide open and made no effort to be quiet or to hide what we were doing. They had to know we weren't studying all that time. They'd be shocked by the other gift he'd given me which I had worn on purpose the day of my birthday in expectation that we would be messing around, the faux leather combination underwear-swim suit. We did go to his room after cake and we did neck, getting me all boned up, but to my surprise we didn't go all the way.

When I arrived home my family made a big fuss about my new necklace, which I knew would be pointless to try to keep hidden. I told them it was a gift and they of course assumed it was from Melissa Blanchard, whom they all assumed I was going with steady now. I didn't correct them on the source of the gift, nor on my relationship with Melissa. Dad observed our relationship had to be serious for her to buy such an expensive gift and Mom commented that she did have some strange tastes. They'd made the same assumptions regarding Dimitri's other gift which I'd worn this past summer. As I sat there eating supper, my favourite, roast chicken with mashed potatoes and creamed corn, with chocolate cake for dessert, which I managed to consume despite my treat from Mrs. Savalos, I thought about Dimitri and what we did and I popped a boner. Of course, Mom and Dad and my kid brother and sister had gotten me gifts too, and I sat there and opened them and thanked them, my cock tenting out my jeans in my faux leather underwear.

The next night, Friday, I claimed to be having a sleep over at Jeremy Faulhaber's but actually Dimitri picked me up and we drove over to Cory Carson's. Cory was waiting for us and got in the back with his overnight bag and as we pulled out from the curb Dimitri adjusted the rearview mirror so we could both watch Cory strip and replace what he had been wearing with what he'd brought in his overnight bag. That was a flesh-coloured, padded bra, frilly violet panties with pansies, black nylons with a lace garter belt, a tight, low-cut blouse that revealed his breasts, a short, tight, leather skirt, and red high-heeled shoes. He took out a makeup kit and applied rouge and purple lipstick better than any girl I know. Dimitri glanced at me with a smile and winked.

He drove us over to the motel he'd taken us to on Prom night. Again, he had me sign for a room, and to ask for the same room as before, room eight, but this time he came in to the office with us and he filmed the whole thing using a recorder hidden in his scarf. The same shabby, bored desk clerk was there as before, and he gave us the same smirk and leer. I wondered if he remembered us. He paid no attention to Dimitri and showed no surprise. The last time we were there Dimitri had us enact several entrances and several scenarios once we were in the room. This time he went in the room first and filmed us as we entered, me first and then Cory.

Closing the door behind us, Cory, much to my surprise, grabbed me, spun me around, and began smothering me with kisses as he unzipped my jacket and slid it off me and dropped it on the floor. He quickly slipped off his own jacket, which everyone at school had observed looked more like a girl's jacket than a guy's, and backing me up to the bed, he quickly unbuttoned my shirt and slipped it off and began to kiss and caress my chest and to suck on my nipples, telling me how much he loved me and how he'd been waiting for this day for weeks and how he'd was going to make my fifteenth birthday a birthday celebration I'd never forget. He had to have been prepped and was following a script he'd memorized, but he sounded perfectly sincere. I didn't have any lines and was taken totally by surprise, but that was just what Dimitri wanted. Besides, anyone watching this video was going to be interested in our conversation.

Cory went on about being my bitch and my slave and it was evident what my role was supposed to be. He unzipped my jeans and pulled them down. He was evidently supposed to say how sexy I looked in just my underwear or something like that but he hadn't been prepared for my faux leather briefs and he stumbled over his lines.

To my surprise, I adlibbed with a chuckle, "you're so hot for me you can't even talk straight, bitch." Dimitri gave me the thumbs up behind Cory's back. Why had I said that? It had just come out so natural like. Even more disturbing, why did it make me feel so good talking like that?

"Oh yeah. Fuck yeah. You… you look so hot in… in those leather briefs," he sighed as if he really meant it. He reached out and ran his fingers over my pouch and my dick stirred.

Drawing off my jeans and socks, he pushed me back onto the bed and began to kiss and caress my body as if it was the natural thing to do, which again caught me by surprise. Seeing Dimitri's signal, I raised my right arm and Cory immediately snuggled up and sniffed my pits. This was clearly not new to him and I had to wonder how often he'd done this, and with whom. Much to my delight I'd begun to grow pit hair lately, something I'd noticed a lot of other guys had noticed and had looked upon with envy. Cory observed how he loved guys with hairy pits and the smell of my sweat and asked permission to lick them, to which, much to my surprise, I replied he could since he had asked politely, and that if he did a good job I'd let him smell and lick my ass crack later. I had no love for Cory Caron after the way he'd treated me, but nor was I into this domination and slave stuff. It was a turn on though, and as he immediately stuck his nose in my right armpit and inhaled deeply my dick began to swell. I'd been sweating in my winter jacket and the heat of Dimitri's car, which I realized now he'd probably turned up on purpose, and my pits were so rank I could even smell them. As Cory sniffed deeply and then began to lick my hairy armpit, it was clear that he had done this before and it was so perverted my dick really began to swell. It was also clear that he was enjoying it from the way he was breathing and squirming, which got me even hornier.

I could not believe him. Cory Carson, my former tormentor, a bully who'd looked down at me as if I was a pitiful weakling, who'd taken great delight in pushing me around and embarrassing me in front of our classmates, was now grovelling before me, licking and sniffing my stinking pits. What was with him? On Prom night someone had punched a glory hole between stalls in the boy's room and had spent the night giving guys blow jobs, and had taken the names and phone numbers of anyone who wanted some follow-up action. Rumours were that the same guy followed through on his promise and had not only given blow jobs but had bent over besides. Rumours were that person was Cory Carson. I hadn't had any doubt the rumours were true. There are a lot of horny guys in junior and senior high school, every guy actually, even those with regular girlfriends and regularly making out, and as long as they were the one's getting off it didn't matter to them if their partner was a girl or a guy. There were just too many guys claiming to have been done for the rumour not to be true, and from the way Dimitri had arranged for Cory to be my "date" at the Prom, I knew the guy was Cory.

What I didn't know was why Dimitri was involved. What did he care if guys were being bullied? What did he care if I was being bullied? Why did he care if Cory had thought it a big joke to push me around and to embarrass me in front of our classmates? I couldn't figure it. And what did he have on Cory to make him dress up and act like my date at the Prom? And to be here this night to celebrate my fifteenth birthday? Sure, Dimitri could be scary, and he wasn't one you'd want to cross, but to give any guy who wanted it a blow job in the boys' can, and to sniff and lick a guy's armpit, a guy you'd spent years bullying? Why? Whatever Dimitri had on him, it had to be something big. Very big. Like Whiting's thing for underage girls. But what could it be that Cory would do such a thing? I had to wonder if Cory was on drugs. Was Dimitri providing them in return for Cory doing these things? But how was it of any benefit to Dimitri? Dimitri didn't do things out of the goodness of his heart. Dimitri didn't have a heart. I knew that. Sure, he had to be making money on the videos he was making, but it couldn't be that much, and he didn't seem to be in any great need for money.

The aching of my stiff dick in my tight briefs interrupted my thoughts. I told Cory and he immediately slid his hands down and slipped my tight thong off. My dink, now twelve and a half centimetres when stiff, sprang up, delighted to be freed. Cory immediately snuggled down and began to lick it, running his tongue up and down the shaft. He pulled back my foreskin and licked the tender, sensitive skin he'd exposed. He ran his tongue over my knob, swirling it as if he was licking an ice cream cone. I shivered with delight as his hot, wet tongue swept over the rim of my knob. Cory Carson licking my cock! He continued to lick, over and over, until the first droplet of my precum oozed out the slit. He immediately flicked it up with the tip of his tongue and I quickly replaced it with another droplet. He licked that up too, savouring its sweetness and smoothness. That was no act! He was really squirming now, as if in pain, and I suspected his own dick was aching in the confines of his panties.

I reached down and drew up his skirt. It was weird, being licked and sucked by a guy in a skirt, and I oozed out another droplet of precum which Cory eagerly lapped up. This was all so perverted, but I was really getting off on it. I slipped my fingers inside his silk, lacy panties. To my surprise his pubes were smooth. As I eased his panties down, I glanced down and saw that his pubes had been shaved! Of even greater surprise was the sight of a cage about his swollen cock. It was aching all right, but not in the confines of his panties. His dick was squeezed into a small, wire cage about ten centimetres long and three centimetres in diameter. It was locked to a metal band that looped around under his balls that held it in place.

"Will you unlock it, please?" he asked plaintively.

Dimitri, standing behind him and filming everything, shook his head and stroked the index finger of one hand with the other and then held the middle finger of his right hand up.

"No," I replied. "Shame on you for getting an erection." That sounded corny. Dimitri pretended to slap Cory's backside. "You should be spanked," I added.

"Yes. Yes, please do," Cory responded. This was evidently a familiar scenario for him.

Following Dimitri's silent signals, I had Cory stand and bend over and grab his ankles and I bunched up his skirt under his belt and pushed his panties down. I slapped his bare bottom. Dimitri frowned and motioned to hit harder. I did. He shook his head and frowned more darkly and motioned harder yet. I hit harder with a resounding smack that caused Cory to cry out. Dimitri indicated to continue and I did. Cory deserved it actually. I thought back to the times I had wished I was strong enough and daring enough to strike back. To the times he'd knocked my books out of my hands in the hallway and called me a nerd. To the number of times he'd sneer and call me a wimp in front of the girls when I knelt down to pick my books up. To the number of times he'd tripped me in the cafeteria and laughed. Smack! Smack! Smack! He deserved it. He deserved that and more. The bastard! Slap! Slap! I suddenly realized my palm was stinking and what I was doing. Cory's buttocks were a cherry red and had to be stinging twice as bad as my palm. There were tears in his eyes. Good. The bastard deserved it.

"Now, bitch, turn around and suck on a real man's cock and maybe, just maybe, I'll let your wimpy little wee-wee out of its cage," I snapped, reading Dimitri's lips and interpreting his actions. Well, most of it was Dimitri's, but some of it was my own. Revenge is sweet.

Cory turned and dropped to his knees. To my surprise his dink had swollen even more. Getting his ass spanked had turned him on! How could that be? His dink had to be really aching, swollen up in that wire cage, the wires digging into his swollen flesh. My own dink was aching. I had a raging hardon. That was an even bigger surprise. Spanking Cory had turned me on! Cory went down on my cock and began to suck. He slipped his lips all the way down, right down to the base, and drew them back up so only my knob was in his mouth and he went down again. All the while he sucked. He sucked hard, like a baby on his mother's tit, like a calf on its mother's udder. I could feel the suction tugging on my swollen flesh. Then he paused and bit down with his gums below my knob, cutting off my throbbing blood and my impulse to squirt. He sat there motionless until my need subsided, and then he resumed. Cory Caron knew how to suck cock. He knew how to suck it very well. He should. He was practising on three-quarters of the guys in junior high and half the guys in high school. Probably the other quarter and the other half too but they weren't admitting it. Guys said you could tell a girl who sucked cock from how fat and muscular her lips were. Cory's were fat and muscular.

I could hold back no longer. I inhaled deeply and threw my head back as I felt the release deep in my groin and as I felt my cum race up the core of my stiff, aching cock. I spurted violently and repeatedly, spurting my stuff into Cory's mouth. It was fantastic. I was fifteen and I hadn't shot one off for two weeks. The last time had been two Sundays ago at Dimitri's, and I made up for it. I'd wanted to get one off many times over the past two weeks, and I'd been surprised and worried when Dimitri hadn't initiated anything with me. Now I knew why. I seemed to squirt forever.

I finally drew back. To my surprise, Cory, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk, grabbed his overnight bag, took out a clear plastic bottle, and spit my cum into it. I glanced up at Dimitri and he shrugged and motioned for me to ask Cory.

"What are you doing?"

"Saving your juice."

"What for?"

He hesitated. "For my kid brother."

"What?"

"I save it for him. He thinks he's drinking a power drink."

He was collecting cum and giving it to his brother to drink? I looked at him in disbelief. His kid brother was only ten. That was sick. I thought of my kid brother Jimmy. He was nine. He would be trusting enough to believe that. What sort of guy would play a dirty trick like that on his kid brother? I glanced over Cory's shoulder at Dimitri. He didn't look at all surprised. I suspect he knew all along. Cory had to be into drugs. Only an addict would do something as sick as that. It had to be Dimitri's idea and Dimitri was suppling Cory drugs or drug money in return for doing it. Probably even taping it. That would be like Dimitri. He smiled and I felt very frightened.

Dimitri shut off the recorder and stepped up to Cory. "Go ahead, bitch, collect another load. If you're a good little girl maybe Justin will let your dinky out of its cage and let you pet it." Cory immediately dropped to his knees and unzipped Dimitri's jeans. "You didn't say thank you," Dimitri snapped and Cory cringed in obvious fear. "Grab that chair and bend over." As Cory got to his feet and did so, Dimitri removed his belt. Drawing his arm back, he snapped the belt against Cory's exposed buttocks with a whack. Cory jerked with the pain but said nothing. Dimitri whacked him good, a half dozen times. His ass was striped with long, red welts. When he turned, I saw his dick had swollen again. How could he get a hardon getting his ass whipped?

"Cory's becoming a great little masochist," Dimitri said, looking at me. "He's learned to love pain as much as you and I love pleasure," he elaborated, seeing the look of confusion on my face. "The more pain the hornier he gets." I'd never heard of such a thing! He looked in Cory's overnight bag and took out a plastic case and withdrew a pin and to my surprise stepped up to Cory and jabbed it in his nipple. He stepped back, leaving the pin in Cory's teat. Cory jerked with the pain, and so did I, and so did his dick! Dimitri took a bottle out of Cory's bag and a cloth. Dampening the cloth with something that smelled like antiseptic, he stepped forward, pulled the pin out, and squeezed the cloth against Cory's nipple with a smile. "Now what do you say, cuntface?"

"Thank you, master. Thank you for reminding me of my manners. May I please suck your cock?"

"If your brother wasn't enjoying the treat you're bringing him I wouldn't give you the pleasure," Dimitri said. "Maybe next time you mess up I'll invite your brother over and let him drink direct from the source."

Cory went white as a sheet. Dimitri would. "I'll be good. I promise."

"Then prove it."

"Thank you master." He was sincere. That was no act. Cory dropped to his knees and reaching up, he unbuckled Dimitri's belt and unsnapped Dimitri's jeans and pulled his jeans down. Dimitri was wearing a studded, leather jock. I'd never seen it before. Cory removed it and asked, begged actually, to be allowed to sniff it. This was all too unreal. Dimitri nodded and Cory buried his nose in his sweaty jock and inhaled deeply. Cory Carson, school bully, sniffing a jock strap. When I thought about it, since the grade nine Prom I hadn't heard of Cory bullying anyone. Everybody had noticed that. Putting down Dimitri's jock almost reverently, he shuffled forward on his knees and held up Dimitri's long, thick cock and began to lick it. He ran his tongue over his balls and suddenly tensed. "I'm sorry, master. May I lick the sweat from your balls, please," he whined. His voice quavered with fear. Really.

"I know the only reason you didn't ask first is because you're a mindless, cock-hungry, little faggot," Dimitri said. "Isn't that right?"

"Yes, master." Dimitri glared down at him. "Yes, I'm a mindless, cock-hungry, little faggot," Cory repeated. "Please forgive me."

Dimitri nodded and Cory resumed. I would never have believed it if I hadn't just seen it. Dimitri was scarey. I've said that often. That was no surprise. But what sort of power did he have to make Cory cringe like that? What would it be like to have that sort of power over someone? I sat down on the bed and watched as Cory licked and sucked on Dimitri's sweaty balls and as Dimitri's long, thick dick began to swell and lift. After all the times he'd bullied me and with all the hatred that I felt for him, I enjoyed his humiliation and degradation. It felt good. Very good. I imagined having that sort of power over him. That would be awesome. Yeah, that would make me like Dimitri. That was not a bad thing. Not in this case. Cory deserved it. Cory slipped his lips over Dimitri's knob and began to suck. As Dimitri continued to swell Cory slowly went down on his swelling cock, all the way down, right down to his hairs. It had to be half way down the faggot's throat! I'd heard of guys, and girls, being able to do that, to deep throat guys called it, but I'd never seen it done before. And he didn't even gag!

Cory did Dimitri slowly, as he'd done me. His dink, compressed in its cage, slowly began to shrink again. Mine was raging hard. Cory paused several times. His jaw had to be aching being stretched open for so long. Finally Dimitri began to squirt, and again Cory caught his cum in his mouth and when he was done, he spit it into the bottle.

"Now, I believe you promised Justin you'd lick his ass crack."

"Yes, yes, may I, please? You said if I was good I could sniff your asshole and lick it."

If someone had told me a year ago that Cory Carson would be grovelling on his knees in front of me and begging me to let him sniff my asshole and lick it I'd have told him he was insane. Who would have imagined such a thing! Dimitri turned on the recorder and I stood and turned around and spread my legs. Cory shuffled up behind me and grasping my hips, he pulled apart my ass cheeks and a moment later I felt his hot breath against my hole. I wished I had to fart. I even tried to do so. "Stick your nose in my hole and take a good sniff," I ordered, remembering how many times he'd called me a brown noser at school. Cory actually did what I'd told him. What a rush! Dimitri zoomed in with the recorder. I'll have to talk to him about getting a copy. It would be great if he'd have a bit of shit on his nose. That would be something. My dink jerked with the thought. I'd love to pass it around the school to show everyone who'd ever heard Cory calling me a brown noser. I pushed out, trying to crap.

He rimmed me then and he went at it as if he was really wanting it, lapping at my asshole and worming his tongue inside like he couldn't get enough of it. When I had enough, I turned around and had him blow me again. It took a bit longer my second time, but having refrained from coming for two weeks, when I came I filled his mouth again, and again he caught it and spit it in the container. Dimitri told him to give me the container and he tossed me a tiny key and told me to take Cory's dink out and milk him. Christ, he wanted Cory to add his shot for his kid brother to drink! I couldn't imagine it! I thought again about my kid brother and tried to imagine what it would be like to feed him a bottle of guys' cum. I imagined him tossing back a glass of my cum. That was totally sick. I unlocked the cage and started to nudge Cory's dick out with my index finger.

"Oh fuck," Cory groaned as he began spurting.

I'd barely touched his dink. It was still soft, and it was squirting like a fire hose. I was totally surprised and missed the first couple shots which had landed on the carpet and the third which had struck the bottle before I finally got it in position and was oozing down the side and over my fingers.

"When was the last time you came?" asked Dimitri.

"Thirty-three days ago."

"When was the last time you had a bone?"

"Fifty-eight days. The day you put my CB on."

I glanced up at Dimitri. "Chastity Belt," he explained.

I stared at Cory. He'd been wearing that thing for fifty-eight days? And he hadn't had a bone? That was like two months! I had one every day. Usually several times during the day. And he hadn't come in thirty-three? I thought I had it tough abstaining for two weeks. I could not imagine an entire month. No wonder he began shooting the moment his dick was touched. Dimitri had him lick his cum off the bottle and my fingers, and suck up the puddle on the grungy-looking carpet. The carpet looked like it hadn't been cleaned in a year. I felt like puking. I could not imagine how unsatisfying that had to have felt for Cory, to just puddle like that so quick after not shooting for so long.

"If you can't control yourself any better than this I just might keep your dick locked up until your wedding night," Dimitri said, locking the cage back up. "Or maybe I'll give your wife the key as a wedding present," he said with a smile. He wasn't joking. He would.

He turned to me and taking me in his arms he kissed me. I returned his kiss and began to unbutton his shirt. God, I've never felt so horny in my life. I'd just shot off two loads and my dick was swelling a third time! There was just something about making out with Dimitri in front of Cory that turned me on. It was like I was showing Cory Dimitri and I were equals, like I was sharing his power over Cory or something. Cory sat there and watched as we embraced and kissed and caressed each other and as I stripped Dimitri. As we fondled each other's dick I wondered what Cory was thinking, if he was remembering what it was like to have his dick touched. I wondered what he thought about me doing it willingly with Dimitri, as an equal. Was he thinking of me as a faggot? He was being forced to do what he was doing. I was not. Was he envious? Or did that make me less than he was in his eyes?

Taking out a tube of KY, Dimitri lubed up my hole and then his stiff dick. Lying down on my back and spreading my legs, I looked up at him as he knelt between my thighs and penetrated me. He smiled down at me, his eyes filled with love and tenderness, moist with desire. It was not a look you saw often. Most time his eyes were blank, as if you were looking at the eyes of a blind man, as if he was looking right through you and his mind was a million miles away. Now, at that moment, we were connected. We were of one body, and one mind, united as lovers. His hard, stiff cock pumped in and out of my body causing my asshole to burn with pleasure and sending ripples of desire up my stiff cock and up my spine. He'd fucked me plenty of times before, but this time we were fucking together, one body, hot and throbbing. When he came, he spurted deep up my bowels and as I felt him squirting my cock began throbbing too and my thick, slimy cum spattered our naked bodies. When we were done, we lay together, naked, sweaty, and wet with semen for the longest time. He finally called a cab and sent Cory home.

We slept in the next morning and then went to a place called Buttermilk Fine Waffles. I'd never heard of it before but the waffles were totally fleekin, whipped cream, fresh fruit, maple syrup, the works! That afternoon we went shopping at Cross Iron Mills. We went to the most expensive stores, stores I've never been in and my parents could never afford to shop at, like RW and Company and DKNY. Dimitri figured we should have matching outfits, the works, royal blue silk shirts, tight black nylon slacks, six-hundred-dollar winter coats fleece-lined and with real fur trim, white monogrammed silk scarves, even matching monogrammed lavender thongs we bought at a sex shop. The clerk objected that I was too young to be in the store. Dimitri assured him I was twenty-one, with that tone of voice and look that you didn't argue with. He bought a pair of handcuffs and some alligator clamps, which worried me at first until he said I could give them to Cory for Christmas.

We also bought a pearl necklace with matching earrings for Melissa Blanchard. Ever since the Grade Nine Prom Dimitri has been encouraging me to go out with her, giving me money to take her to the movies and chaffering us around. I know the first time she'd gone out with me was for a lark, and because she was pissed off with Cory Carson and wanted to know just what had happened Prom night. To her surprise she enjoyed it and we went out a second and third time and I began to hang with her crowd, the in crowd. Rumours began to circulate that we were an item. Me and Melissa, the most popular student in Saint Joseph's, the girl every guy in junior high and high school had wet dreams about. I would never have guessed in a million years it would happen.

I had mixed feelings about it. I had a good time and she wasn't near as snobbish as some of her friends were, but I was uncomfortable. We didn't really have that many interests in common, and I know some of her friends–a lot actually–thought I was a nerd. I know the expensive gifts and taking her to expensive places was part of it, and she was using me to make other guys jealous so they'd try to up me. She was like that. It was nothing personal. Of course, with her looks and figure I couldn't help thinking about sex. I was one of those guys who had wet dreams about her. I have to admit I've gotten boned up dreaming about Dimitri too. It made me wonder if maybe I was bisexual. I don't know anything about that, or anyone who is. The thing was, when I was with her I didn't feel particularly horny, not… not like when I was with Dimitri. That was strange, and worrisome, very worrisome. Of course, ninety percent of the time I was with Dimitri involved sex. Dimitri called her my beard. I don't know what that means. I'll have to look it up on the Internet. We went to the food hall for lunch.

"I was thinking perhaps we might invite Ed and his sons back to the motel to finish off your birthday celebration." I looked at Dimitri blankly. "Ed, the high-rise construction worker, with the three scrumptious sons."

Ed had met up with Dimitri and his seven-year-old nephew at a nudist spot in Glenmore Park, which I and I'm sure most residents of the city had no idea even existed, and had gotten off with Dimitri's nephew in the bushes. Dimitri had taken me and his nephew to the guy's house back in October after arranging for the guy's wife to be away. His kids had no idea their dad liked sex with young boys. His youngest was only four and had no idea even what sex was. None of them did actually. They did by the time we'd left.

"Did you wash your hands?"

I looked over at the guy who had yelled. Everyone did. He was a big, stocky guy, red hair and bushy red beard. The woman with him, his wife I supposed, was a drab little woman, plain-looking with mouse-brown hair and a bruised cheek. She looked like she wanted to crawl under the table. The boys looked to be around twelve and eight. They looked like two frightened little rabbits.

"Go back and wash your hands. And use soap. I don't care if all you did was take a leak. You know how many germs dinks carry, even those as small as yours?" Blushing bright red with embarrassment, the boys spun around and headed back to the can. The guy, their father I assumed, grinned with satisfaction, proud to have demonstrated his power and parental authority. "Stupid kids," he thundered for everyone's benefit. "I swear they must have gotten their brains from your side of the family." He chuckled at his joke and glanced around to see how many were listening.

A few of the others in the food court looked like they felt otherwise, but none of them dared suggest which side of the family was lacking the brains. Most stared down at the table, embarrassed for his wife and his two boys. I glanced at Dimitri. I knew that look on his face. I inhaled deeply and held my breath as my heart rose in my chest. Instead of getting up and marching to the guy's table as I'd expected him to, he took out his cell phone and punched in a number.

"Cross Iron Mills Shopping Centre. Food hall. How soon can you get here?"

He looked down at the table as he put his phone away. He was thinking. The guy with the wife and kids had come after we had. It was impossible not to have noticed their arrival. He was loud and abrupt. A bully. He talked to the cashier with the tone of voice you'd use on a slave. The way his wife and kids stared at the floor and looked like they wanted to crawl under the tables it was evident they were embarrassed by his behaviour. He ordered for them and paid and then went and sat down, leaving his wife to pick up the order and carry it to the table. He had complained about the size of his burger and the quality of the fries but he had wolfed them down. The others had eaten in silence. They hadn't looked like they were enjoying their meal. The boys returned from the can and he ordered them to step up to him and he grabbed their hands roughly and sniffed them. I could not believe it! The guy was a total moron. I glanced again at Dimitri. His expression was totally blank. That was dangerous. The man got up and his wife carried the tray to the recycle and trash bins. We followed them.

They went to a couple kids clothing stores and he complained about the prices and the styles and the clerks and that the clothes the boys were wearing were perfectly good even though a blind man could see they'd outgrown them. You could see the clothes he approved were not the styles the boys would have chosen. His wife frowned and said nothing. As they headed out the store Dimitri's phone rang. Whoever it was he told them where we were and where we were headed and when we entered the parking lot he phoned someone to tell them which lot we were in. As the family stopped at their car Dimitri headed over to them.

"Excuse me, we saw you and your family in the Food Hall."

The guy turned and examined Dimitri, sizing him up and quickly dismissing him as no threat. "Yeah?" he said gruffly and confidently, and on the defensive.

"I was impressed with the behaviour of your two sons."

"Yeah?" he said again as he looked at Dimitri suspiciously. He had the vocabulary of an ape. And probably the IQ of one also.

"Not often you see boys so quiet and obedient."

"Yeah?" I was wrong. Apes have a wider vocabulary.

"Just wanted to tell you how impressed I was. Don't see youngsters their age towing the line like that anymore. There's no question who's the boss in your family."

"They know what will happen if they don't." So, he could talk.

"And just what might that be?"

He looked at Dimitri, and then at me. "What is this?" He wasn't quite as stupid as I'd thought either.

"I was wondering exactly the same thing," Dimitri said conversationally. "What is this? What sort of person beats his wife and terrorizes his own boys? Can't be a man."

The guys face turned red and his eyes narrowed. I could almost see the steam coming out of his ears and nostrils, like a cartoon bull.

"You one of those liberal, know-it-all, do-good pansies? Talk to me when you're old enough to have kids of your own." He stepped up to Dimitri.

"Stan, let it be. Let's just go."

"Fair enough," said Dimitri. "And you can talk to me when you grow up and begin acting like a mature adult."

"Stan," she pleaded.

"Keep your trap shut, woman. This is between men. This punk needs to be taught a lesson."

"I think it's the other way around, Stan. You're the one who needs to be taught a lesson."

"And you figure you're the one to do it," he sneered.

"Yes. Me and Jason. And those two fellows," he said nodding behind the fellow.

"I knew that trick before you were even a twinkle in your daddy's eye, sonny. You really expect me to fall for that?"

"From your ugly looks your daddy must have been a troll," said the man behind him as he put a ham-sized hand on his shoulder.

The guy spun around, taken by surprise. If his daddy had been a troll, the guy he was facing had to have been his daddy's brother. The redhead was big and tough looking, but this fellow had him beat hands down. He was at least ten years older than Stan, 50 kilos heavier, and twice as ugly. He had leathery, ruddy brown skin and jet-black braids half way down his chest like an Indian, and looked like he was carrying twin papooses. Beside him was a handsome black man, late teens, good body, skin dark and shiny as tar, with a Mohawk cut.

"Give us the keys to the car."

"Like hell."

The Indian twirled him around and twisted his arms behind his back like he was a child and the black pulled a rope out of nowhere and had his hands tied before I realized what they were doing. The guy opened his mouth to call for help and the Indian punched him in the gut, knowing the wind out of him. The black fished the guy's handkerchief out of his pocket and stuffed the dirty snot-rag into his mouth and wrapped another cord that appeared out of nowhere around his head to hold it in place. Taking the guy's keys out of his pocket, they popped the trunk and the Indian lifted him up and dropped him in like he was light as a pillow. The Indian and the black worked smoothly, not even talking. Dimitri told the woman and kids to get in the back seat and he drove her car over to where we'd parked while the other two followed us. The woman and kids were scared shitless and didn't say a word. When he told her to drive to her home, she replied that she didn't have a driver's license. So, the Indian drove her car and the black guy followed in the car they had come in and Dimitri and I followed in his car.

They lived in the northwest part of the city. It had once been on the edge if the city but was now surrounded by newer and more expensive neighbourhoods. It was an average looking home in an average neighbourhood, neither particularly rich nor particularly poor. The Indian carried the guy into the house and downstairs to the family room where he and the black untied his hands and then retied them so his hands were above his head and tied to a light fixture on the ceiling. They did it so fast and so easily they had to have done this sort of thing before. The inside of the house was nothing special, the type of furniture and stuff that you would expect a typical average income family to have. To my surprise the Indian and black left. I had expected them to stay behind and join Dimitri in whatever he had planned. He had the guy's wife and kids sit on the sofa.

"Now then, we were talking about someone teaching someone a lesson. Do you remember who was going to teach who?"

Dimitri reached out and groped the guy, who immediately drew back and twisted and kicked out at Dimitri who easily stepped away. With his weight and muscles and the way it creaked I expected the light figure to be ripped out of the ceiling. "You're going to regret touching me, fag."

"How often does he beat you?" Dimitri asked, ignoring him and turning to the woman.

"He… he doesn't."

"How did you get the bruise on your cheek?"

"I wasn't watching and hit it on a cupboard door."

"And this?" Dimitri asked, suddenly stepping forward and pulling her scarf off, revealing red marks on her neck. "And these?" he continued, popping the buttons of her blouse and ripping it open, revealing a big black bruise on her ribs.

"Leave her be!"

"You do this to her?"

"That is none of your Goddamn business."

"Does your father hit your mother?" Dimitri asked the two boys.

They glanced at each other, and at their father. "Sometimes," whispered the older boy. He was frightened of his father, but even more frightened of Dimitri.

"Do you think that's right?"

The boys glanced at each other again, and again at their father. "He says she deserves it," the older boy said.

"I don't care what he says. Do you think it's right for a husband to hit his wife?" The older boy shook his head, and his brother followed. "Does he hit you boys?" Both boys shook their heads. "Remove your shirts and let me see." The boys hesitated. Dimitri stepped toward the older boy and he immediately began to unbutton his shirt. His younger brother followed. Neither had any bruises.

Dimitri looked again at their mother. "What sort of man are you that you beat a woman like this?" he asked angrily, balling his fists.

"Don't hurt him. Please. He's a good man, really."

"You needn't beg for me. Just keep your trap shut."

She was trying to protect him and he was talking to her like she was shit! I had no sympathy for him, and nor did his sons. You could see their disgust in the boys' eyes.

"Good? Not by my definition. A man? Well, male perhaps, but not man." Dimitri reached for the guy's crotch and then changed his mind. "What do you boys think? Your father a man?" There was no question what their answer was, but they didn't dare voice it. Dimitri turned to the boys. "What's your name?" he asked the oldest.

"Stanley."

"Named after the ol'man eh? That's too bad." From the look on the boy's face, he agreed. "Well, let's find out if your dad's a male first. Pull down his pants." The boy hesitated. "Go ahead. He can't do anything to you." The boy stood.

"Sit back down!" growled his father. "Don't you do a thing this fairy tells you."

Dimitri spun around and punched him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. "I'm in charge now," he said calmly as he turned to the boy. "You'll do everything I tell you. You and I are going to see that your ol' man never bullies you or your mother or brother ever again. Now, pull down his pants."

The boy was scared of his father, but his hatred for his father was stronger. He stepped forward

"Sit down and ignore this cunt, or when I get untied I'll paddle your bottom so hard you won't be able to sit for a month." Wrong thing to say. The boy took the last step forward and reached out. "Stanley!" The guy twisted and jerked but the boy managed to unbuckle his belt and pull down his fly. His jeans dropped to his ankles. The guy was wearing blue and white striped boxers.

"Now his underwear. Let's see what he's got between his legs."

"Don't be a little fag. Go sit down!"

The insult had just the opposite effect. The boy reached out and pulled down his father's boxers. The guy wasn't that badly hung but compared to the size of his body and his big belly his dick looked small. He was uncut.

"Well, at least we've proven your father is a male. Though not by much," he sneered, looking at the man's crotch. He looked at the younger boy. "What is your name?"

"Sean," he replied, his voice quavering.

"You're telling the truth that your father doesn't hit you or your brother?"

"He spanks us sometimes, but he doesn't, you know, hit us," he said, glancing at his mother. "Mostly he just raises his fist and hollers at us."

"A lot," added his older brother.

"And grounds us."

"Why?"

"For everything," the older boy said, his voice edged with anger.

"Like?"

"For talking when he's taking a nap after work. For being too slow when he sends us to get something for him. For not knowing what his tools are for, like the difference between a pipe wrench and a crescent wrench. For not being able to toss a football." The more he talked the more flushed he was getting.

"Not picking up our toys," continued his brother. "For putting our elbows on the table when eating."

"For not washing your hands after using the bathroom, or not washing behind your ears," Dimitri continued. The boys nodded. "He always smell your fingers when he sends you back to be sure you washed your hands as he told you?" The boys nodded. "You ever just pretend to obey, or ever not use soap?" The boys looked at Dimitri and then at each other, aghast that someone would ever not obey their father. "You should next time. Then when he takes a good sniff at your hands instead of soap he'll get a good deep whiff of the smell of your dick on your fingers." The boys looked at him, shocked that someone would think such a thing. The older boy's upper lip began to curl and he fought to keep back the snicker as he imagined doing what Dimitri had said. His younger brother was having an even harder time keeping a straight face.

"I imagine if you did he'd ground you."

The boys nodded. "For the rest of our lives," Stanley said.

"You think that would be right?"

"Our dad says boys need discipline in order to learn. They need to be punished." The boys are clearly frightened of their father.

"He means them well," their mother put in. "He just has a temper. It's his Irish background."

"It's his being a boor and a bully background," Dimitri replied.

The boys looked at him in awe that he would dare say such a thing, and tittered.

Dimitri looked at the older boy. "Play with your father's nuts and dink."

The boy looked at him blankly.

"Like you play with yourself."

The boy still looked at him blankly.

"Like this." He reached out, rolled the guy's nuts in their sack and stroked his dink. The guy of course twisted and cursed, calling him a fairy and a pervert and turning all red, but he couldn't do anything to stop him.

"Go ahead," Dimitri said, nodding at the man's crotch.

Stanley hesitated and then unable to resist the opportunity did as he was told. The boy's father glared at Dimitri and told him he was going to pay for this big time when he got loose.

Clamping his hand over the guy's mouth and holding his head steady, Dimitri told Stanley to hold his fingers under his father's nose so he could get a good sniff of his dink. The boy could not resist and did as he was told and though his father tried holding his breath he couldn't do so forever.

Dimitri told the younger boy to take his turn and of course the boy's father told him he knew it was wrong and not to do it. Like his older brother, the boy could not let the opportunity to go by. You could see the pleasure in his eyes as he fiddled with his father's balls and wrapped his fingers about his father's dink and tugged on it like he'd seen his older brother do, and the satisfaction he got holding his fingers under his father's nose.

I have to admit I was feeling a lot of satisfaction seeing him taking revenge on his father, and a bit randy seeing him touching his father's privates. It deserved the bastard right.

"How old are you?" Dimitri asked the older boy.

"I'm going to be thirteen."

"When?"

"September."

This was December second. The boy had turned twelve just three months ago at the most.

"Can you cum yet?" The boy looked at him blankly. "You know, squirt." The boy still didn't know what he meant. "Juice? Semen? Sperm? When you play with your dick, after you get it hard does anything come out?"

"I don't play with it. I've never gotten it hard. Not intentionally."

"Not intentionally?"

"Not on purpose. It does though, sometimes, during the night and when I got to pee bad."

"Ah, I see," said Dimitri. Placing his hand on the boy's shoulder he began steering him toward the hallway. The boy's father immediately ordered him to stop and asked where he was going and what he was doing and he pulled so hard on the rope he caused the ceiling to crack. Dimitri ignored him and a minute later he called for me and Sean to join him and Stanley in the hallway. "Your brother tells me he's never jerked off," Dimitri said, addressing Sean. "That true?"

Sean looked at his brother. "I don't know what that means."

"You know. Played with his dink. Rubbed it. Masturbated."

Sean shook his head. "Masturbation is wrong."

"If you say so. But the two of you do it."

Sean shook his head vigorously.

"How old are you?"

"Eight."

"And neither of them has ever jerked off!" Dimitri said to me. He looked from one to the other. "And Stanley tells me he's started to grow hairs. You boys are a boylover's dream!" he said in amazement. "Twelve and eight and pure as the Virgin Mary. Tell me the truth. You weren't shitting me when you said your ol' man doesn't hit you? Be honest. He'll never know that you told me."

"He doesn't. He just hits our mom," said Stanley with embarrassment.

"Stanley's telling the truth, He does. I hate him. I hate both of them," Sean blurted. He was close to tears.

"We both do."

"Our father is forever ordering us around and yelling at us. He isn't interested in anything we do, and nothing we do pleases him. If we do our chores he complains we didn't do them good enough and gives us more chores to do. He says other kids are spoiled and have too many toys and not enough chores. We don't have any friends. Nobody wants to come over to our house because our father hollers at them and criticises them and their parents. He humiliates us and embarrasses us in front of them and thinks he's doing something great. They all hate him."

"Our mother doesn't hit us or nothing, but she doesn't stop him yelling and stuff either. Mothers are supposed to stick up for their kids, you know, protect them. She sides with him, always."

"She has to," Stanley said in her defence, though you could tell he shared his younger brother's feelings. "She has to do everything she's told, just like us, and if she doesn't he hits her. She has no friends either. He won't even let her learn to drive so she's stuck at home and depends on him for everything."

"That's not right," Dimitri replied. "Boys should be treasured, and pleasured." He got that look again, the look that said he was planning something, and you hoped it wasn't directed at you. "We're going to put an end to your dad striking your mom and bullying you, here and now and forever. But you have to do what we say."

The boys looked at each other. "You… you won't hurt them, will you?"

"No. They're not going to like what we're going to do, but we're going to stop them."

"Until you leave."

"Then they'll be like they were before, except worse."

"It's happened before. Like when our uncle Phil got mad at them.".

"This will be different. They'll change, period. But you have to promise to do what I say, no matter what your mother or father say. You have to promise me that."

The boys looked at each other. "You can really stop him?"

"You better fucking believe it."

"We promise," they said.

We returned to the family room. "Now then, the first thing I want you to do is take off your pants and underwear," Dimitri said.

Stan looked at Dimitri and me and then at his two sons. "What the hell is this? Don't you do any such thing!" he demanded. The boys had hesitated but being ordered not to, they did what any boy would do. They did just the opposite.

"You Goddamn pedo! What did you tell the boys? What the hell are you up to?"

"We're going to disprove the lies you've been telling your boys and be honest with them. And we're putting an end to your bullying of your family once and for all. Take your clothes off too, Justin," he said looking at me. "You and I are going to teach these boys the facts of life."

I was as hesitant to strip as the boys but like them I knew better than to refuse. They all watched me as I removed my shirt and unzipped my fly and pushed down my jeans. Stepping out of my jeans and removing my socks, I slowly pushed my underwear down, the faux leather thong, revealing my dink and my balls. It was embarrassing, not stripping in front of them, but in front of their father and especially their mother. Their mother glanced away, but she could not resist stealing a second and third look. Their father checked me out too, but kept his mouth shut.

"Why don't we begin with you showing the boys how to jerk off? I still can't believe they've never done it at their age. You boys watch closely, and then do exactly what Justin does."

The boys were uncut like me and as I slowly drew my skin back and pushed it back up over my knob they watched carefully and once I began to swell the eroticism of getting a boner in front of the young boys got me swelling all the faster, especially since the only boner the older boy ever had was a piss hard. The two boys began to rub their dinks also, and they also began to swell. That the two boys were beating off for the first time in their lives was hot, and that they were doing it in front of their parents made it even hotter. I went slow, wanting the boys to enjoy it, but as I watched their faces and saw their looks of anxiety and embarrassment turn to looks of surprise and wonder and then of pleasure I felt the need to shoot off all too soon. I tried to think of something else. I counted backward from a hundred, I tried to recite the alphabet backward, I imagined playing chess and the moves I'd memorized from famous games. None of it was working.

"Don't stop." Dimitri's voice interrupted my thoughts.

"I have to. I … I have to pee," Stanley replied urgently.

"Go get a juice glass. A clear one," Dimitri ordered the boys' mother.

"Please, stop. Send the boys to their room. It's Stan you have an issue with, not the boys. Don't punish them."

"Punish them? I'm liberating them. I'm rewarding them for putting up with your asshole of a husband. Something you should have been doing," Dimitri said. "Keep jerking off," he ordered the boys. "And you'd better hurry with that juice glass before Stanley puddles on the carpet."

"You pervert," spat Stan. "You pedo!"

The boys continued jerking. Their mother hurried out of the room. She was back surprisingly fast. Dimitri had me take the glass and hold it in front of Stanley's dick, none too soon. He was squirming and jerking and looking worried as hell as he stared down at his dick. Seconds later he began spurting. I looked up at his face and almost began spurting myself as I remembered the awe and amazement the first time I'd cum. "Milk out the rest," Dimitri ordered. I reached out with my other hand and milked the kid's stiff, little dick. It felt strange holding a dick so small. It felt stranger holding it and feeling it throbbing as he spurted out his juice. It was thin and watery. I squeezed his hose tight and drew the skin up to the tip, milking out his cum. When we were done, Dimitri took the glass and sniffed it. "There is nothing like the fragrance of a boy's first shot," he said. He raised the glass to his lips and took a sip. "Nor anything as sweet," he sighed. He handed me the glass and nodded and I sniffed and then sipped the watery slime. I had to admit it was different from any other cum I'd tasted. Sweeter, smoother. He had Stanley do the same and he did so with far less appreciation. Sean was even less willing.

"Why don't you finish Sean off orally, Justin?"

The boy hadn't climaxed yet and the thought of sucking the eight-year-old's little dick and bringing him off for his first time was hot. Bringing him his first experience, sharing that priceless moment, was a real turn on. I understood the pleasure that Dimitri found in having sex with young boys, the pleasure that drove child molesters to risk engaging in sex with minors. I know many found the idea repulsive, but for me the idea was a major turnon. Doing it in front of his asshole father was even more so. I could see how Dimitri got pleasure out of messing around with kids in front of their parents.

Sean wasn't so certain about this, but I trusted Dimitri. He knew what he was doing. I sat back on my heels in front of him and slipping my fingers about the base of his tiny, projecting wiener, I slipped my flips over it at clasped the little bone at the base. Of course, his pubes were smooth. I sucked on his cocklet gently and caressed it with my tongue. He squirmed with the new pleasure and sucked in his breath. His little dicklet throbbed hotly between my lips. I nodded my head up and down, slipping my lips up and down his little stiff noodle. It was no bigger than my little finger. It was little, but it was swollen and the tip tingling with pleasure. As the pleasure became stronger than his apprehension and self-consciousness, he began breathing deeper and slowly forgot about everyone around him. Soon he was gasping and when I stopped nodding my head he began pumping his hips to and fro, fucking my mouth in his eagerness to climax.

He gasped and groaned when it struck him, his little cocklet throbbing so hard I could feel the blood pulsating through it, and he swayed unsteadily on his feet. Eight years old and his first climax, with his stiff dink in my mouth. Sweet!

"See how great it feels?" Dimitri asked. "Now you know how good it is, why don't you do your brother?" he suggested without waiting for an answer to his first question knowing how the boy would answer.

Still hot and glowing with the pleasure of his own climax, Sean dropped to his knees and took his older brother's still stiff dick in his mouth, eager to bring his big brother the pleasure he had felt. Flushed from his first ever orgasm, he slipped his lips over his twelve-year-old brother's stiff cock, thinking only of the pleasure he had felt and not the vulgarity of sucking on another boy's cock or that he was sucking his brother's dick in front of their parents. He sucked on his brother's bone eagerly and slipped his lips up and down the shaft, eager to draw out his brother's marrow. Stanley of course was eager for a repeat of the pleasure of his first climax and he stood there numbly as his kid brother knelt before him and began sucking his cock. His little wiener throbbed and the tip itched as he thought about having jerked off and he closed his eyes and inhaled and exhaled deeply with the strange new pleasure he'd denied himself since being told about sex by his classmates.

As I sat back and watched I remembered the first time I'd given a blow job, and the first time I'd received one, both thanks to Dimitri. As I watched the two brothers going at it I realized why Dimitri had chosen me and sucked me, and just how introducing me to oral sex had brought him pleasure. Being part of the plan to introduce Stanley and Sean to the joys of sex filled me with as much pleasure as they were feeling. And doing so in front of their asshole parents multiplied that pleasure and I understood Dimitri's mission to reveal the lies parents told and to introduce their children to this forbidden pleasure.

Stanley was soon gasping and groaning and doing the pre-ejaculation dance. His mother was staring at his naked feet and curled toes and his father was glaring angrily at Dimitri and me. Dimitri whispered in Stanley's ear and seconds later Stanley warned his brother he was about to squirt. Throwing his head back and gasping, he tightened his grip on his kid brother's shoulders and began to squirt, filling his brother's mouth with his second shot, too overcome by his newfound pleasure to consider the perversity of what he was doing. His brother, meanwhile, eagerly swallowed his brother's hot marrow, the pleasure of sex overriding any preconceived notion of impropriety or shame in sucking his brother's cock.

Flushed and overcome with his pleasure, Stanley eagerly dropped to his knees and grasping my stiff cock at the base, he followed Dimitri's instructions and licked my shaft and swirled his tongue over my knob like he was licking an ice cream cone. His father glared daggers at me and at Dimitri as his twelve-year-old son slipped his lips over my bulb and began to suck me off. It was unlike any other blow job I'd received, being sucked off by this innocent, horny twelve-year-old boy, pure and naive before this night. It was hotter and more pleasurable and more intense than any other blow job I'd received, and I knew then and there that there was no greater pleasure than having sex with a boy younger than myself, and doing so in front of his parents. Far too soon Stanley was eagerly swallowing my slime, and I came with delightful ferocity.

"Now it's time to deal with you," said Dimitri, turning to Stan.

"You're going to be sorry for this, big time," Stan replied with a glare, daring to challenge Dimitri. I felt sorry for him in a way. He had no idea who he was up against.

"Where do you keep the candles?" Dimitri asked, totally ignoring him. Neither Stan nor his wife responded. "Com'on. Everyone has candles in case of a power failure. Where do you keep yours?"

"In the cupboard in the laundry room," replied Stan's wife.

"One of you boys go get them. And some matches or a lighter. And a broom or a mop." Both boys left and quickly returned with the items.

"Now then, Stan. For starters, I want you to promise you'll never strike your wife again."

"What I do is none of your damn business."

"Wrong answer," Dimitri said with a smile. Grabbing Stan's legs, he lifted him in the air, causing the light fixture to creak and new cracks to appear in the ceiling. He ordered Stanley to hold the mop handle under his father and to wedge the tip in his hole. The boy did and as Dimitri lowered his father, he slowly began to sink down on the handle. He gritted his teeth and pressed his lips together. He slipped a bit further down.

"All right, stop! Stop!" He'd sunk down a good five centimetres or more on the handle.

"Promise." The idiot said nothing. Dimitri let go and the guy screamed as he sank down on the handle.

"I promise, I promise! Stop! Oh Jesus!"

"You promise what?"

"I'll never hit my wife. Never. Oh God!" His feet had reached the floor. Blood was trickling down the handle.

Dimitri took one of the candles and lit it. He held it above the guy's crotch and slowly tipped it. "Promise you'll stop yelling at your sons and ordering them around." The idiot hadn't learned. Hot wax dripped on his fat, hairy belly. He jerked, twisting on the mop handle and sending it further up his ass. "Damn, I was aiming for your nuts, not your fat belly," Dimitri said, pretending to be annoyed. He stretched out the guy's sack and tipped the candle again. "I promise, I promise. I'll never yell at the boys again, or order them around," he promised and he inhaled sharply as hot wax fell on his stretched nuts. Dimitri blew out the candle and yanked the handle out of his ass. The tip was streaked brown and red with shit and blood. The boys' eyes were wide with disbelief and with fear, of what was going to happen next, and of Dimitri.

"Now then," Dimitri said, "where do you and your wife keep the lube?" There was no reply and Dimitri sighed as he reached for the candle.

"The night stand beside our bed. The left one," the guy's wife said.

Dimitri smiled as he turned to me and told me to take the two boys and go get it. The tube was there as she had said. "Now then," said Dimitri as he squeezed out a dollop, "there's something a lot more pleasant to stick up your ass than a wooden handle." Having Stanley spread his legs and bend over, he smeared it over Stanley's anus. As he applied lube to my dick, he told the parents to explain what the stuff was and why it was in their night stand. Their father glared and their mother began to turn red with embarrassment as she was left to explain. I began swelling. That had to be totally embarrassing, and I tried to imagine what the boys were thinking and what their mother was feeling having to explain why they kept a tube of lube by the bed. Embarrassing, but fleekin' hot. I boned up in an instant as she tried to explain and Dimitri kept pressing her for details.

Having Stanley spread his legs and bend over and grab his knees, Dimitri nodded for me to step up behind the boy. I was feeling horny as fuck, and the thought of sticking my aching dink up the asshole of this fresh, innocent boy and introducing him to the pleasure of anal sex was too much! Placing the tip of my lubed bone against his virgin hole and grasping his hips, I slowly and gently pushed forward and he inhaled sharply as he felt me penetrate him. I continued, sinking my arching bone up his hot, moist asshole until my hairs were pressing against his smooth butt. I slowly began to fuck him there in front of his parents and his brother. It was fleekin' hot and I never felt so randy. He was young, twelve-years-old, and innocent, tight, and more delightful than anything I've ever felt pulsating around my bone. Perverted? Disgusting? Vile? Perhaps, but it felt heavenly, and I knew from experience that the strange, new stimulation of his anus and feeling another boy's stiff, hard prick up his ass was not an unpleasant feeling for him either.

Dimitri stopped me and asked the boy how it felt, and he confirmed that though it was strange, it also felt good having his ass stimulated, not unlike the pleasure of having a good shit. It certainly felt good to me, and I understood why Dimitri took such delight in fucking his little nephews and why other men were attracted to young boys and took delight in taking their innocence. It was a small thing for a boy to pay considering the immense pleasure he was being introduced to. I fucked the boy slowly, wanting that pleasure to last for him, and for me, and I delighted in feeling his hot, tight asshole squeezing about my cock, trying to keep it inside him as I drew back. It was beautiful and the more I did it the better it got. His kid brother stood there bug-eyed and his jaw open, which made it all the hotter. All too soon I was squirting, filling the boy's rectum with my goo.

Flushed and aroused from getting fucked, and sporting an aching little boner, Stanley eagerly lubed his stiff dink, no longer or thicker than my thumb, and his younger brother's little pucker. Grasping his brother's hips, he eagerly sank his penis up his kid brother's ass and began to fuck him in front of his mother and father just as I had fucked him. That was hot, watching him fucking his own brother, and I could not help thinking about my own brother, Jimmy. He was only nine, but that was a year older than Stanley's brother. As far as I knew he didn't have a clue about sex, and no interest in girls, just like most boys his age. It would be wild introducing him to the pleasures of sex, especially this one. My dink, still stiff, wagged with the thought of me sticking it up my brother's ass and shooting my stuff up his rectum. That would be wicked, really wicked. Watching Stanley fucking his kid brother in front of their parents was really wicked too. His father was livid and his mother was embarrassed all to hell seeing their twelve-year-old son pumping his stiff little dink in and out of his kid brother. Stanley didn't give a fuck about them. Actually, considering how much he hated his parents, he was probably enjoying fucking in front of them. If I was him I would. Sean was certainly enjoying it, even when his older brother gasped and grunted and began squirting his stuff up his asshole. It was the third time the little bugger had come that night! First he'd jerked himself off, then he'd been sucked off by his brother, and now he was coming up his brother's ass. This was going to be one night he'd never forget!

"Now then, you enjoy that?" Dimitri asked Sean as Stanley finally withdrew his dick. The boy nodded, his rectum filled with his brother's hot cum, his parents totally forgotten. "Then go ahead and do Justin."

Sean glanced up at me with the uncertainly but hope of an eight-year-old's eyes. I nodded and he grinned. His little dick was stiff and aching. He was totally willing to shove his dick up my ass, and I was totally willing for him to do so. The idea of this eight-year-old kid fucking ass was hot, extra hot given it would be his first time, and even hotter considering I would be his first fuck, and hotter yet in that it would be in front of his brother and his parents. Having just been fucked he knew how great it felt been on the receiving end, and he was eager to find out what it would be like being on the giving end. Having been on both ends, I knew they were very different but equal pleasures.

So I bent over and pushed out with my gut as Sean stood behind me and pushed his hips forward and his stiff little dick slowly sank up my hole. We did not need lube. It was delightful feeling his stiff little dink up my asshole, even more so knowing this was his first time, and especially so in that he was doing it in front of his parents. He grunted and panted with effort as he stuck his dick up my asshole, and he panted with excitement and desire as he began to pump his hips to and fro, driving his little cocklet in and out of my ass. It felt great, and it felt weird having his little bone working in and out of my body, and I kept reminding myself he was only eight. It was not long before he was quivering with his dry orgasm and I was about to squirt once again. A few strokes with his hand and I was spattering their coffee table with my second load of cum, Sean's cocklet still shoved up my ass. It was fantastic.

Squeezing out a fresh dollop on my index finger as Sean withdrew, I marked a cross on Sean's forehead and then on Stanley's, as Dimitri had once done to me, and as I'd seen him do others.

"Now you boys are Justin's," Dimitri said, "to cherish and to obey, bound to him by the seed of his body. Today's his birthday, and I'm making you two boys my special birthday gift to him." The two boys looked up at me, flushed and dazed by their discovery of the joy of sex and by their orgasms, dazed but clearly delighted from the sparkle in their eyes and the curl of their rosy lips and flush of their smooth, bright cheeks. As I looked down at them and saw that look on their faces I had a strange feeling of power, and of benevolence and justice. It was a great feeling.

"You lay a hand on your wife or upset your boys in any way again, my man Justin is going to find out, and what's happened to you today is nothing compared to what he'll do to you in the future," Dimitri promised as he finally untied the man.

As we headed home, I sat in silence thinking about the weekend. It was a birthday like I'd never had before, and likely would never have again. 'My man, Justin.' That had a nice ring to it. It had been a wild and weird weekend. After years of being bullied by Cory Carson, it had felt good tormenting him, very good, and Dimitri had promised to teach me many more ways to bring a masochist pleasure. I'd never related the pleasure of sex to brining another pain, but there was no question that the pleasure I'd felt was sexual, and just the thought of torturing him again sent a thrill up my dink. Introducing the two young, innocent boys to sex and humiliating their parents and punishing them for their behaviour had felt great too, really great. Was that so wrong? Some people say boy lovers are sick, that they are monsters that should be jailed up forever, even castrated or killed. Why? There was nothing wrong with punishing the boys' parents for the way they had treated their sons. Their parents were the real monsters, not Dimitri, not me. Maybe we are all monsters in some way, and it is recognizing that monster in oneself that people are really hating. I don't know. I certainly don't feel like a monster.

NEXT PART