Date: Fri, 13 Apr 2018 11:26:55 -0500
From: MC VT
Subject: Bisexual-Adult-Youth Youth Sexuality Specialist

Youth Sexuality Specialist
 ©2018 MCVT2017 February 5, 2018
Rehabbed pervert brings enlightenment to the neighborhood.


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1.  Teddy and Mr. Sellers


"How did you ever come up with that question?"  Mom asked.

I shoved my biology papers at her and pointed to the word.  "Hymenoptera.
Does that mean the wasp is a virgin?  In the dictionary..."  I tried to
explain and showed her the words and the book.

She looked perplexed.  "Go ask Mr. Sellers.  He's the expert on things like
that."

Our neighborhood just got a new YSS last year.  Mr. Sellers is our Youth
Sexuality Specialist.

The new YSSs used to be called perverts, but with a little screening,
training and riding a wave of cultural and social reality, pervs became our
community experts on children's sexuality.  They served as a local outlet
for personal counseling about sexuality because parents were so inept or
maybe afraid.

Each neighborhood had their own YSS, like a school, clinic, police station
or fire department.

The government said it kept the trafficking down and made healthier people
without "negative baggage" that cost a lot of tax money later on.

Some of the YSS' had certain age ranges that they specialized in, but
Mr. Sellers helped any kid.

That's what they told us at school.

Good thing.

My parents seemed to forget that kids have their own way to think about
ourselves - childhood can be confusing because our bodies change fast.

Mostly, Mom just went online and gave me some lame answer from a doctor or
medical expert when I asked about my privates.  Doctors seemed more
concerned about diseases.  Sheesh!

Because I ask a question, it doesn't mean I'm sick!

***

I stepped up on his porch and saw his YSS sign on the door, and rang the
doorbell.  Inside there were footsteps and my stomach tensed, I'd never met
this guy.

My older brother "Fitzy" came over here to find out if he was gay.  He
didn't worry about that anymore.

When the door opened, I was wary - this guy was old enough to be my
grandfather!

"May I help you?"  He opened the door wide.

"Yeah."  I peeked inside and saw a regular house like the others in my
neighborhood.

Rugs, couch, lamps, stereo, chairs and an open chest in the corner filled
with toys and stuffed animals.  Smelled like fruity stuff.

Seemed all right, so I went in.

Mr. Sellers was a tall guy who looked like a teacher - kind of lean and
wearing gray slacks and a white shirt and a short coat with pockets.

His hair was all white and he had a square face and a big smile.

"Edward Sellers, Youth Sexuality Specialist District 197-15" was on his
name badge with a tiny picture of his face.

When he extended his hand to shake mine, I almost didn't know what to do.
Most adults don't want to shake hands with a kid - as if we're cootified.

"You the kid's sex guy?"  I asked.

"Close enough.  Come in.  I see you brought some paperwork."

"Mom sent me here with my question."

"Okay, let's see what this is about."  He opened a door to the side of the
big room.

It was a small office with a small desk, a loveseat, a cabinet and a big
window with the curtains open wide.  The office was plain, but it didn't
smell like alcohol or medicine or anything to do with shots so I went in.

He sat beside me on the loveseat and asked what my question was.

"Are hymenoptera virgins?"

"Hymenoptera?  Virgins?  Mercy, boy!  Have you asked the queen bee to marry
you?"  He chuckled.

I had to smile, "No.  But look here."  I unrolled my homework and smoothed
it out a little on my jeans and handed it to him.

"Interesting correlation."  He went to the computer and turned it on.
While it warmed up, he asked me my age, and my name and made a note on a
pad.

"I'm Teddy and I'm ten - Fitzy's my brother.  He came here because he
thought he was gay."

"I remember Fitzgerald.  Bet he's doing very well, right?"

"Yeah, but he's still jerking off all the time - but he doesn't care about
being gay anymore."

Mr. Sellers chuckled, "Good.  He's healthy and strong?"

"Yep - but he's a bully sometimes."

Mr. Sellers chuckled.  "Big brothers are like that.  He may turn out to be
your very best friend later on."

The computer screen lit.

"Come over here, we'll see about this queen bee you want to marry, or was
it a wasp?"  He pointed to the screen.

"I don't want to get married - I'm just a kid."  He was joking.

"Wise move.  Well, a hymen is a tiny part of a female body, and a
hymenoptera is a class of bugs - like bees and wasps.

"Certain bugs are called hymenoptera because of their wings look something
like a lady's hymen, so some scientist decided to call the bugs with that
kind of wings `hymenoptera.'

"I don't think insects are virgins.  Virgin usually means a person who's
inexperienced or doing something for the first time."

He thought about it.

"Well, maybe bugs are virgins since their lives are so short, everything's
always new for them - hmmm."

"Am I a virgin?"  I asked.

"Since you're so young, you're a virgin in a lot of ways - you have a lot
of firsts coming in your life before you're an adult.

"But that's an old term, and people used it on people when they were
commoditized - when they were bought and sold and traded around.  It was
like saying `Grade A.' But all people are `Grade A,' right?"  He patted my
shoulder.

"You mean bought and sold like slaves?"

"Yep, especially among the royal families a long time ago.  We can't own
another person, so we don't use the word anymore.

"People and bugs choose who they want to love."

"Do you have another question?"  I put my head down, a little embarrassed.

"Will you whisper it to me?"  He took me by the hand sat close to me on the
loveseat.  He leaned over, close.

"Do you want to ask me something about your privates?"  Then he put ear
near my face and his hand on my thigh.

I explained myself with a few words while he nodded - his expression
serious.

"...Then Dad laughed at me and said I was a sissy boy."

"That makes no sense whatsoever!"  He gave me a little grin.  "Sometimes it
feels a little overwhelming, though.  Let's see what other boys do and what
happens.  Maybe you can figure it out for yourself.

"Would you like that to do that today or come back later?"

"Today."  I grinned.

We went back over to the computer.  I stood beside him while he opened a
file and found one with lot of pictures.

He pulled me close to him and continued to whisper to me.

"This boy uses one finger and his thumb, and this one uses his palm."  He
pointed to the photos, "Why don't you try one of these, and make a nice
orgasm happen."

"Orgasm?"

"Yes.  Lots of nerve endings on your groin."  He patted the front of my
jeans.  "When you touch yourself the right way, it makes an orgasm - a
wonderful feeling all over your body for a few seconds.  "If we didn't have
those nerve endings and orgasms people would probably forget to make
children."  He smiled.

"Oops!  No more humans!"

I grinned.

I was shy, but Mr. Seller's hand reached over and unbuttoned my jeans.  I
was blushing like crazy as he unzipped my jeans and pushed them down but he
didn't have any expression on his face.

He could see my erection now, my underwear poked out in the front about an
inch and a half.

"Beautiful erection!  Looks like you want to some touches, right?"

I nodded because I didn't know what else to do.  His hands wrapped around
my hips and he shucked my briefs down my legs, sighing deeply.

He leaned over and found a bottle of lotion and told me to be careful with
the skin on my penis and put a few cold drops on my hand.

"Smear it around a little..."  He instructed.

That stuff felt good.

"Copy what this boy is doing; I'll hold you so nothing bad happens."  He
put his arms around me and I smelled his body and his cologne - he didn't
smell like Dad.

Mr. Sellers pointed to the screen and clicked on the photo to open the
video.  I tried with my thumb and two fingers but maybe I was nervous.

"Nah.  I don't like that." I told him.

He opened another video and showed a boy's hand fully gripping his big,
hard penis and moaning, stroking like mad.

I turned away - I wasn't about to try that.  I'd probably melt.

"Too much."  I said softly and looked at Mr. Sellers.

Mr. Sellers smiled and opened another video of a boy sitting on a man's
lap.  The boy had his whole hand around his penis and rubbed, then squeezed
the tip.

The man rubbed between the boy's legs, then squeezed his tiny balls and
kissed the boy's neck at the same time.  The boy closed his eyes and his
face got really red; he made a few soft noises while the man kissed him
some more.

That one looked good, I pointed to the screen.

"That one."  I said.

"Get on my lap - we'll practice what they're doing."  Mr. Sellers told me
and lifted me onto his lap in the computer chair.

He started the video over again.

Mr. Sellers waited till the moment that the man in the video slipped his
hand between the boy's legs before he touched me, but he kept me close to
his chest.

I watched and stroked a few times, but when Mr. Sellers' fingertips came to
my balls, I started getting scared.  My body quivered and my breathing was
super fast.

"I've got you."  Mr. Sellers whispered and squeezed me tighter against him.

My eyes got big and my mouth dropped open and I felt like I was going to
pass out.

"Breathe!"  He whispered.

I tried but I was scared I was going to start peeing and maybe die -
everything inside me was out of control and filled with big, jumbled
feelings.

I didn't know what to do!

I pushed his hands away when my eyes filled with tears.

Mr. Sellers just held me against him and rocked me till I calmed down.

"I think I know how to solve this."  He said softly.

He stood me up and went to a cabinet and brought a tiny tube out.

"So sensitive!  We're going to slow you down and see what happens."  He
patted his thigh, and pulled me against his chest on his lap.

"Lean your head against me."  He squeezed a drop of the liquid from the
tube onto his desk, then put a drop of lotion on it and swirled it around
with his fingertip.  He turned the computer screen off.

I didn't want to close my eyes, but he told me I had to.

"This time I want you to relax and I'm going to be very gentle."  He dabbed
his mixture all over my penis.

"Close your eyes."

This time, my penis didn't feel hot and prickly; too excited and confused.
It felt light and tickly.  Mr. Sellers stroked me gently and slowly at
first.

"Rub your scrotum."  He whispered.

I kept my eyes closed and played with my balls while his big fingers gently
squeezed my glans and rubbed slowly, then faster.

I started feeling excited all over, like there was a sparkler inside me,
and I didn't feel so frantic, instead, the warm feelings rolled through me.

I was feeling better with every stroke.

Ahhh.  Ahhh.  Ahhh.  Nnng!

My hips started hunching a little and my head fell back.  I couldn't
breathe for a moment it felt like some kind of goodie-bomb just exploded
all over inside my body.

With my head still leaned back, I looked out from under my eyelashes to see
Mr. Sellers smiling as his hand covered my erection and balls while I
calmed down.

"That's an orgasm."  He whispered.

"What's that you put on my penis?"

"Its a little numbing gel mixed with some lube, and with your eyes closed -
everything quiet, and a little help your body just gave you a gift.  Did
you like that?"

"Yeah.  Um, uh...  Could we do that again?"

He looked at me for a minute, and then smiled.

"This time, you rub your penis.  Now close your eyes."

I leaned close to Mr. Sellers' chest and closed my eyes and rubbed slow, at
first, like he did.  It felt good.

When I started feeling it coming, I felt his fingers on my balls, tugging
and pulling, then he squeezed; I rubbed faster and it happened again!

Ahhh!  My whole body tensed for a moment it was so good.

This time I looked up to see him smiling and he leaned forward and kissed
my forehead.

"You did it!"

I felt a little dizzy for a moment, but he stood me up and pulled up my
briefs and jeans while I smiled.

"Sweet boy, if you get excited and you can't orgasm, stop.  Don't push
yourself and get frustrated.  We'll learn how you can feel comfortable in
your body because your body houses your spirit and we don't want you to
kick that out - got to keep you whole and strong."

"What am I supposed to do?"  I asked, not sure about all this.

"Come back tomorrow afternoon.  I'll email your parents and tell them
you're in training for a while when I send them the video.  Okay?"

"You're recording me?"

"Part of our quality assurance program.  Government wants to make sure
we're giving kids the best service possible."

***


The next morning I was eating my cereal when Mom asked me how I liked
Mr. Sellers.

"He's nice."  I was a little embarrassed.

"What did he do?"  She was trying to be nonchalant, but obviously got the
email from him, and was checking things out.

I thought about it for a long time.

"He kissed my head."  I didn't want to talk about my penis and rubbing off.

"Really?"  She asked.

"Yeah.  I don't get any kisses - guess I'm not cute anymore."  I told her
and grabbed my lunch, heading for the door.

But she grabbed me and gave me big kiss on my cheek.

"I love you, my little Teddy bear."

I hated when she called me that, but she smiled at me and kissed me!

Finally, some appreciation instead of always griping about cleaning my
room.

***


After school I went over to the YSS office and found a note on the door.

"Teddy, please come in - wait on the couch."

I went in and sat on the couch.

There were voices from Mr. Sellers' office, and I heard his voice talking,
but I couldn't understand what he was saying.

So I finished my long division homework while I waited.

A while later, a teenaged girl came out with Mr. Sellers and they went down
the hall to the bathroom.  After a while I heard her giggling and laughing,
the water was running and Mr. Sellers was talking to her softly.

They came out and she gave Mr. Sellers a hug and a kiss and left, smiling.

"Ah!  Girls can be charming.  But, Teddy, how's it going?"  He smiled at
me, drying his hands.

"Okay."

"Good, I think I got things worked out.  Come in the office."

I was hoping he would help me orgasm again today.

"Okay, here's what I found out.  When people are born, their body gets a
certain number of cells.  The cells may get bigger, but you don't get any
more or you're be gigantic!  "Your body's nervous system has a certain
number of cells too, and they seem to be working fine.  For right now the
size of your body is still small and the nerve endings are close together,
especially on your penis.  "So many nerves get so excited; you get
over-whelmed when you masturbate.  Do you understand?"

"So I get scared because of my nerves?"  I asked.

"Well..."  He thought for a moment.

"I don't understand."  I told him.

"Okay.  Have you ever been to a football game in the stadium?"

"Yeah."

"Do you tailgate at the football games?"

"Yeah, we cook hotdogs on the parking lot and Dad drinks a lot of beer."

"Okay, so there's thousands of people, and some come early to cookout and
some people come late.  They come at all different times.

"Before the game starts, some people go in early to get their seats and
others stand in line to buy tickets and they all go in at different times -
right?"

"Yeah, and some people come really late."  I said.  "Cheaper tickets at
half-time."

"Yep, you're right!"  Mr. Sellers agreed, chuckling.

"So?"

"Well, your brain is like the turnstile - the little pathway that lets
people in - a few at a time.

"If everyone decided to come through the turnstiles at the same time it
would make a big mess; people would be crowding and pushing, stepping on
each other - some might fall down.  "Security would have to come and
everyone would still be upset and trying to get in.  They'd jump over the
turnstiles; maybe break them, all kinds of problems..."

"They'd probably cuss and start fighting!"  I added.

"Right!  Then the police would come - what a mess!

"Your brain is like the turnstile; too many messages come at one time when
you touch your penis, like too many people at one time trying to get into
the stadium at one time.  Right now, your turnstile isn't big enough to
handle all the messages and it gets all mixed up - it will be a little
later when you grow some more."

"So what do I do?"

"We're going to find some ways you can feel good, without any numbing
medicine and without touching your penis."

"Are we going to watch videos again?"

"Today I want to take some pictures of your body and help you relax.  Then,
we're going to try without the videos."

***


He closed the blinds and turned the lights out and asked me to take my
clothes off and stand near the loveseat while he got out a special camera.

I was nervous, but he was working with his camera while I undressed, but I
stopped.

"I don't know..."  I was sure Mom wouldn't like this.

"Watch."  He took a picture of his hand.

It came on the screen showing his hand in all kinds of colors, lots of red
and yellow.

"Wow!  That's neat!"  I studied the image.

"I used to work as an engineer and used these cameras all the time.  It
records temperature differentials not regular pictures."

Standing very still, he took several pictures and they jumped on the
computer screen.

The camera didn't show my body, but an outline of it and there were spots
of red, green, blue and yellow on different parts.  Parts of me were
glowing!

"Cool."  I said, when I saw the pictures, "What do the colors mean?"

"That's where your body is warm or cool."  He explained where my blood
vessels carried oxygen and blood, and where my muscles were tense while he
pointed at the computer screen.

He studied them closely.

After a few minutes, "Come here."

"See where the red is on your shoulder?  That's a tense muscle."  His
fingers felt along my right shoulder.  Probably carrying your book bag on
this side."

Then he took me to the love seat and asked me to stand in front of him and
looked at my "alignment," then gently stroked along the muscles that the
photo showed were red.

"Breathe and close your eyes, I'm going to rub some oil on your skin and
help you relax to let your brain know everything's good.  Your body works
better when it's relaxed."

I turned around and closed his legs and sat on his knees while he rubbed my
back.  It felt good.

He talked to me softly about how my body would change, and how
exceptionally beautiful and strong I was, and he told me that my family was
blessed to have me.

He lay me down on the loveseat; I was so relaxed I thought I might go to
sleep.

But he came back and lifted me up, and arranged some pillows and put me on
his lap with his arm around my shoulders.  I was so drowsy I could have
taken a nap.

"Look here, Teddy."  He pulled a little plastic gizmo out of his pocket.
It looked kind of like a kidney-bean shape on one end - soft plastic, like
a pacifier, and had a ring on it with two curved, short arms.

I took it and looked at it closely while Mr. Sellers reached in his shirt
pocket and pulled out a tiny bottle of lube.

"Until you get a little bigger, we have to find another way to help you
orgasm.  I'll show you how to do that without touching your penis."

"Are you going to use this thing?"  I held up the little blue plastic
thing.

"Yes."

"What is it?"  I asked.

"I got an idea and called a friend and asked him to use his 3D printer to
make a smaller version of a popular - um, massage device.  I did the
calculations to make sure it would fit you and I changed up the materials
to make it softer.

"Prostate orgasms are as good as or better than a penile orgasm.  You have
to be patient when we put it in."

"You're going to put it in me?"

"Very gently - inside your rectum - that's near your prostate."

The room was cool and dark, and Mr. Sellers gently opened my legs and began
rubbing between my legs.

He took a lot of time rubbing the lube on my anus and pressing against it
while he told me about getting hair like where my dad had hair, like under
his arms and on his chest.

Then, he described the glands inside my body where the device would touch.

Then, he kissed my forehead again.  "Are you ready?"

"You can rub your nipples or touch your scrotum, but don't touch your
penis."  He whispered and watched my face. "Do you know how beautiful you
are?"

I grinned, feeling really good, especially when he squeezed me against him.

He told me to put some lube on the little device for him.  I did, and
handed it to him.

"Open your legs and close your eyes.  This might feel - well, different."

I felt the cold lube on the device at my anus as he started pressing the
rounded end into me.  My eyes snapped open as my anus stretched and the
kidney-bean shape went completely inside me.

"Ahh!  What are you doing?"  I was surprised!

"That's all, now relax."

With that, Mr. Sellers smiled and pushed the massager around inside me.  It
felt weird, didn't hurt, but made my throat feel funny for a few seconds.

"Breathe."  He kissed my forehead.

"Would you like to orgasm, or do you want to stop?"

I pressed my face against his chest because I couldn't decide.

His hand went between my legs and he pressed the device around a little
more and I felt almost a spark - deep inside me.  Then, he moved it around
a little, pressing harder.

I started getting upset.

"Too many people at the turnstile!"  I was breathing fast.

He chuckled.  "Okay, let's wait."

Holding me tightly he asked if my father loved me.

"Sure, I guess.  Sometimes."

"Hmmm.  Tonight when you go home, give him a kiss and tell him he's a
hero."

"Why is he a hero?"

"He made you, and you're a wonderful boy, just wonderful."

After a few moments, Mr. Sellers asked me to tighten the muscles in my
butt, around the little device.

"Start slowly."  He warned.

In his arms, I clenched my butt, just a little.  I didn't want to feel like
I was losing control again.

It felt almost like tickling without fingers or screaming - every time I
clenched, the rounded pacifier part rubbed on a very good place inside me.
I relaxed and lay back with Mr. Sellers arm still around my shoulders.

He rubbed my belly with his big, warm hands while I experimented with how
much I could clench my butt and looked into his eyes.

He watched me and smiled.  "Better now, right?"

It was fantastic!

His hands went to my nipples.  I stopped clenching, it felt good when he
rubbed and tugged on my nipples.

"You like that?"  He whispered.

I nodded and started clenching my butt again feeling better with every time
it pushed against my feel-good place.

"Much better now?"

I nodded again and grinned.

His hand went to my scrotum.  "Ready?"

I kept my eyes on his and started tensing a little faster.  My breathing
sped up and I saw him smile as he began massaging and tugging on my balls.

"Beautiful testicles, just perfect.  Such a precious body."  He pressed
hard, sometimes and rolled them between his fingers, making me feel really
warm and good inside.

"When you're ready, don't stop.  I'll keep you safe.  Close your eyes."

I closed my eyes and for some reason my hand went to my penis, it was hot
and full, twitching.

Mr. Sellers' hand moved my fingers to my nipples.

When I started making my muscles tense around the little device, I started
making sounds, and it felt better every time, and I couldn't stop wanting
that feeling more and more.

"Anngh, Anngh..."

"Breathe."  Mr. Sellers reminded me and held me close and squeezed my
scrotum, then pulled on it harder.  My hips began moving as I tensed and
kept the good feelings coming faster and faster, and I yelled when my back
arched and I felt a big goodie-bomb go off inside me.

Nuclear!

Maybe I passed out for a few seconds, but I opened my eyes to find
Mr. Sellers pressing me against his chest hard.

He rocked me with his body for a few moments, "Perfect.  Did you like
that?"

I nodded and he kissed me on my forehead.  We stayed still for a few
minutes and he stroked my face.

"Am I a sissy-boy like my dad says?  What is a sissy-boy anyway - does that
mean gay?"

"Well, I'm not sure if they're play-acting, but they're usually young men
who dress up kind of like girls - sometimes they do a very, um - well,
appealing dance.  They act sexy for older men to get their affection."

"Am I a sissy-boy?"  I wanted attention too.

"Do you want to dress up and dance around to get some affection from an
older man?  You have to be careful about older men, and find a good one who
won't hurt you."

"Nah."  I didn't know they dressed up and danced for men and got affection.

"You seem like a one-hundred percent boy to me.  If you want affection, you
can ask for some.  That would be easier."

"Why did Dad tell me I was a sissy-boy?"

"After you give him a kiss and tell him he's a hero, ask him."

I didn't tell Mr. Sellers that I wasn't supposed to bother Dad with kisses
or questions.

Mr. Sellers held me while I made another orgasm, and then helped me get
dressed.

"Am I supposed to come back tomorrow?"  I asked.

"I'd like you to keep practicing until you can enjoy yourself in bed or in
the shower, like other boys.  You decide when you want to come back."

I grinned, "I better come back tomorrow."


2.  Mr. Sellers and Fitzy


I'm Fitzy; my grandfather is "Jerry."  We're both named Fitzgerald but I
got the short end of that stick.

So I'm "Fitzy."

My name got me a lot of ribbing in school, but it wasn't too bad until the
guys started calling me "Shitzy," and "Ditsy," but when they started
calling me "Mitzy," that really chapped my butt!

They did it in the showers, after PE.

These guys swung their hips and shook their rear ends asking if "Mitzy"
liked cock, and they'd ask me if I wanted to suck them off.

When I told my dad, he grabbed his jeans, and squeezed his balls and told
me that his "huevos" couldn't make any sissy boys - he was too much of a
man.

"Ignore them till you get them on the playground and give `em one of
"Mitzy's" knees in their groin.  That'll stop it."

I couldn't say anything more to Dad, and I couldn't knee their groins,
either.  I'd get kicked out of school for that.  I'd just have to take it.

Maybe I was a sissy-boy; I kinda liked looking at the guys in the showers.

***


Since our neighborhood got a Youth Sexuality Specialist, and it was a free
service, I decided to ask him what to do, and how to tell a gay guy in
school so I could avoid them.

But I looked up the phone number on my phone and called first.

"YSS, Edward Sellers here."

"Um, Mr. Sellers, I need some information."

"How can I help you?"  He asked.

"I don't want to talk on the phone."  I whispered.

"Come on in, office is open until ten tonight."

"Um - I don't want to...  The guys might see me."

"Gate's open, and the back door is unlocked.  Come anytime you like.
Okay?"

"Yeah, thanks."

I hung up.

After dinner, I told Mom I was going to a friend's house to help with his
homework and flew out of the house with my book bag.

I waited at the end of the block till the traffic stopped and I couldn't
see anyone on the streets and ran to the YSS office, up the drive and in
the back yard before I stopped to catch my breath.

As I approached the back door, I heard music.  Old rock music, like the
kind my granddad liked.  I opened the door.

"Mr. Sellers?"  I called out.

The music went off and I heard footsteps.

"Welcome, Mr. - what's your name young man?"

I hated saying it.  "Fitzy, but really its Fitzgerald."

"Let's go to the office Fitzgerald."

He showed me through his house to his office.  Nice set-up - looked
comfortable enough for an old guy who didn't do much but talk all day.

He motioned me to sit on the loveseat and fired up his computer.

"How old are you Fitzgerald?"

"Twelve."  I watched him make a note on a pad with my name and age.

"How can I help you?"

For some reason, I didn't know how to start.

Mr. Sellers waited, and then looked over at me.

"Do you have a rash or pain somewhere private?"  Mr. Sellers asked, and
glanced back at the computer.

I smiled.  "No.  I need to know about fags.  The guys at school call me
"Mitzy," and it really makes me mad, but sometimes I look at the other guys
in the showers.  Does that mean I'm gay?"

"Interesting situation.  First, the `Mitzy' thing is bullying.  You could
report it to the school administration.  But when someone named Randy or
Richard comes along they'll stop...  I'll make a discrete call to the right
person.

"About looking at guys in the shower, well - that's normal.  Human bodies
always attract our attention - all through history you'll see art with nude
people, male, female, children...  Even in the church - lots of naked
bodies in their paintings.

"Its okay to look, but you might embarrass someone if you stare too long -
especially if another boy is a little different or small.  Peek, turn to
the wall, finish your shower and get dressed.

"Conversations in the showers can cause problems because the bullies like
to tease when people are vulnerable and there aren't any adults around to
stop them."

I hadn't thought about the other boys being embarrassed, but I remembered
some of them refused to shower.  I could hurry through my shower and leave.

He looked at me.  "Does that help?"

"Yeah."  That was a lot more information than Dad gave me.

"Do you think you might be sexually attracted to other boys or men?  Do you
feel you might be homosexual?"

"I don't know."  I looked away.

"I like looking at boys, and...  I'm not sure about men, I think about one
when I jack off - I got this math teacher..."

Mr. Sellers gave me an understanding nod.

"That happens - nothing unusual to think about someone you like when you
masturbate.  I have a computer program that might help you decide if you're
gay."

"Really?"

"It takes about five minutes.  Would you like to try it?"

"Yeah, but if I'm gay, don't tell my dad.  Please?"

"I'll keep it in your personal records, take your jeans and your briefs
down and I'll put the sensors on."

"Sensors?"

"Just little bits of plastic I glue lightly on your penis and chest.  Then,
I'll leave you to the test.  Okay?"

That sounded okay, and Mr. Sellers hooked me up to the computer.  The glue
on the sensors was cold, and I had a boner.

"Fine equipment for a twelve year-old.  You're going to be a very popular
young man if this is any indication."  He chuckled.

"Wait!"  I got scared.  "I don't want to get shocked."

Mr. Sellers chuckled, unbuckled his belt and took his slacks off, then
pulled his boxers down to his knees in front of the computer.

His erection was bouncing around, dripping but he acted as if it wasn't
there.

I gasped.

He was huge, and his scrotum was long and full - it was dark red and had
crinkly hair - like tinsel from last year's holiday tree.  He smelled good,
too, but not like Dad's aftershave.

When he saw me inspecting him he smiled.

"Have you ever seen a man's erection before?"  He took some sensors out of
the package and unrolled the wires, attaching them to his computer.

"No!  It's huge!"

"See what you've got to look forward to..."  He stuck the sensors on his
penis and his chest.  "Excuse my erection - men's bodies do that a lot."

"Now watch, no shocks.  See, the screen says it's ready, and I have to look
at different pictures and click if I like it, don't like it or not sure.  I
have to decide fast, the pictures go by quickly."

Every few seconds a picture came on the screen - when he clicked one of the
buttons, the next photo appeared.

Sometimes his erection jumped, but he kept his eyes focused on the screen.
Then a bell rang and he was finished.

"Now, your turn."  He set up the test again.  Mr. Sellers said he would
come back in a few minutes with juice and cookies.

The pictures started coming up.  I had to make decisions fast.

Some pictures showed boys, and some showed girls, all naked and standing or
sitting different ways.  Some showed men, older men, and younger, all
kinds.

There were pictures of women with big breasts and some were skinny, some
had tattoos and they showed their pussies.

Then, the test showed pictures of more than one person, some of them
surprised me, like boys touching boys, and boys touching girls...  girls
touching girls.

Some of them were women holding boys and playing with their privates, and
some were men with all kinds of different kids and women, and other men -
kissing and touching.

I kept clicking fast; I liked a lot of those pictures.

Ding!

The test was over, and Mr. Sellers came back in with a juice box and
several cookies on a napkin.

As he took the sensors off my penis, my erection was really hard.  He told
me to take a drink and get dressed; he would get the results of my
evaluation.

He went to a screen that had lots of little boxes with numbers inside them;
some were red, some yellow and some green.

"What does it say?"  I asked with my mouth full of cookie.  "Am I gay?"

"Well, it's kind of mixed up.  Maybe that's because you're so young - it
says `undetermined.'  It says to take the test again in six months."

"Oh."  That disappointed me.

"Fitzgerald, do you think you might be bisexual?"

"No, my dad would think that's some strange kind of gay."

"Hmmm.  Well, people have different sexual needs during their lives, and
partners change, but you're concerned about your father's opinion?  Do you
think he might not love you if you're gay?"

I just looked at the floor.  He was right, but I didn't want to think about
it.

"He'd probably kick me out."  I said with a very soft voice.

Mr. Sellers sat beside me on the loveseat and patted my thigh.

"Can you focus on being healthy and strong instead of your father's
opinion?  Do you enjoy your body - do you masturbate?"

I could only nod and blush, no one ever asked me that before.

"Good, that's normal, and do you masturbate with your friends?"

I hadn't thought about that.

"That's a normal thing, too.  Maybe later - but keep it in a private
place."  He said and smiled, patting my shoulder.

"Why don't you come later on when you feel ready and we'll do the test
again?  Seems you're just fine for now.  Okay?"

Mr. Sellers handed me a brochure on masturbation and gave me a little
bottle of lube.

"Enjoy your boyhood, you only get one.  Any time you want some more
information - I'll be glad to help."

I couldn't wait to come back and get another "gay test" and some more good
ideas.

Mr. Sellers is the best - I liked the way he talked to me and treated me.


3.  Mr. Sellers and Dad



Teddy here again - and I swear this is the truth!  It was the biggest thing
that happened in my life, and it was so funny...  kinda sad but my whole
life changed.

At the end of our school year, our neighborhood had a parade for all the
high school graduates, and all the other kids.

The fire department brought their big truck and made a lot of noise with
the horn.  People brought grills and sold hotdogs and sodas.

The high school marching band was there, and the police came on horses
walking through the crowds putting kids sit on the saddle while their
parents took pictures.

The animal shelter brought some dogs and pulled them along in little wagons
they decorated with crepe paper ribbons and stickers.  Cool!  They even had
a pig with them!

Lots of people and lots of noise!

My brother Fitzy and I marched with our school - a big crowd of kids and we
all had whistles and hats with the name of our school.

Our school theme was "Safe Streets," so we blew our whistles and held our
hands up as if we were stopping traffic.  We made a hell of a racket for
the whole six blocks!

We finished our walk at the same place we started, near the park.

***


Other different groups were organizing themselves in the park, readying for
their walk.

"Dad, there's Mr. Sellers!  I wanna go say hey."  I jerked my hand out of
Dad's and ran to Mr. Sellers.  Fitzy came too.

We both hugged Mr. Sellers' waist at the same time, and he hugged us back.

"Two of my favorite neighbors!  How are you boys doing?"

"Good," Fitzy said.  "I'm coming in next week."  He whispered so Dad
couldn't hear.  Fitzy was grinning and went to talk to some of the other
kids hanging around Mr. Sellers.

Mr. Sellers was trying unsuccessfully to organize his troupe.  He was
marching with the LGBTQ contingent.

Though the adults were talking quietly and unrolling the banners and
pennants, the kids were running around laughing and playing tag.

He was trying to count all the kids and adults for his government paperwork
and was becoming exasperated.

"Are these kids gay?"  I asked.  Some of the kids were from my school.

"Teddy, I don't know all these kids.  Some of the LGBTQ adults are parents,
some are foster parents, or have their nieces and nephews for the day.
Some of the kids are probably homosexuals, bisexuals...

"Really doesn't matter to me, I want the kids to be safe and happy.  That
can be hard when they're a little different."  He said.

I looked around for some sissy boys to see what they looked like and what
they were doing, but I only saw sweaty kids and some adults getting
flustered and yelling.

I guessed sissy boys don't want to dress up and dance in a parade.

Mom took us back to the curb to watch the rest of the floats and groups.

***

Finally, the rainbow banners came down the street, the crowd roared, there
were lots of our neighbors and their friends marching together handing out
balloons to everyone.

"Rainbow Pride."  The banner read in big, bright colors.

Everyone had different colors on and the kids were finally organized,
walking in rows.  The lines of walkers had different colored tee shirts on,
and they made a walking rainbow!  Super cool!

Mr. Sellers held one side of the banner, tall and slender.

He wore a bright purple tee shirt with "YSS" in neon yellow on the front
and smiled, waving at the crowd.

Fitzy and I started yelling and blowing our whistles when they walked by.

"Yay!  YSS!  YSS!"  Fitzy and I yelled and waved.

Then, all the other kids around us started yelling and making noise with
us.  I was surprised that a lot of them knew Mr. Sellers.

Dad covered my mouth and jerked me back.

"He's a perv, you know that?  Nothing but a stinking fairy and a
first-class perv.  Look at him out there swinging his hips like some kind
of pastel pink fluff-ball."

Wow!  Dad was being mean.

"I like him.  He's nice to me."  I said back to him.

Dad looked at me, ready to irrupt in anger, but he grabbed me by my
shoulder and took me over my Mr. Sellers in the middle of the street.

"You been fucking with my kid?"  Dad was already half drunk from his
breakfast six-pack.

Mr. Sellers looked at me and smiled.

"Nope, just gave him some information."

"What kind of information?  `Sashaying for Dummies?' or did you give him a
video guide to `Cock Sucking in Three Easy Steps?'  I'm calling the
police!"

Dad got his phone out while Fitzy and I were laughing.

"Sashaying for Dummies!"  What a hoot!  Even Mom was laughing at that one.

Dad was swaying a little but his mouth was still working and he was on a
roll.

"We're in the middle of a parade, perhaps we could talk later?"
Mr. Sellers said and gave him his business card.  He turned back to the
group and they passed down the street.


***

Clop!  Clop!  Clop!

A police lady on a horse rode up, and sized up Dad pretty quick, "Sir, do
you need to go home and sleep it off or do you want a `public intoxication'
charge?"

Dad shut up, but he couldn't stand so straight when he walked away.

Mom pulled Dad back and told him he couldn't have any more beer and we all
had to walk down to the park and miss the end of the parade with the
klezmer band and the king and queen of summer vacation.

***


Mom spread out the blanket under a tree on the edge of the milieu, and we
all sat down not saying anything.

"Dad, I like Mr. Sellers.  He's nice."

"Probably grooming you for a good, hard screw when you least expect it."
Dad was still mad.  "You won't be able to sit for a week - probably get
hemorrhoids...  Oh, man are you gonna suffer!"

I didn't understand that but I didn't think Mr. Sellers would hurt me - he
was always very gentle.

I was surprised when Mom said, "Honey, he helps the boys.  Been very kind
to them and teaches them good things about their bodies.  He's doing your
job for you - I sent you his emails and videos.  Didn't you look at them?"

"Bull shit!"  He told Mom.  "All that's crap!  He's just trying to get into
their pants to fuck `em gay."

"Stinking queer."  Dad told Fitzy and me, "Don't go over to his office
again.  Understand?  Stay away from him."

Fitzy looked away and made a face.  He was going to do what he wanted no
matter what Dad said.

Mom looked annoyed but rolled up her sweater and suggested Dad lay his head
down and rest for a while.

We watched all the crowds and paraders slowly filter into the park.

It wasn't time for the rock music yet, so Fitzy and I went to the
playground.  We had a great time that afternoon, while Dad slept.

Mom said that everyone who walked by our blanket laughed because Dad was
snoring so loud!

We went home early, Dad staggering most of the way.  I could tell he was
still angry with Mr. Sellers.

Fortunately, Dad fell asleep and slept all night.  But he woke up the next
morning feeling awful, as usual.

***

Mom was on the phone with her Aunt all day, and called her mom, too.  She
sent us out of the house because we were blowing our whistles and waving
our hands around.

Mom was on the phone gathering information; I could tell by the way she
kept saying, "Really?  Oh, really?  Then what happened?  He's not?"

The women in her family had more dirt on the neighbors than the police
department would ever find out about, and she was in high gear today
investigating something.

So Fitzy and I went to the "bike hills."  Some smart guy unloaded piles of
soil about twenty feet apart and we made bike trails across them - cool!
Finally, it was getting late and we went home for lunch.

Mom and Dad were in the kitchen, Dad drinking coffee while Mom yelled at
him.

"You're going over there and apologize.  I'm so ashamed of you!  What kind
of ape did I marry?"

She kept yelling at him about being all kinds of bad and slapped his head a
couple of times while she lit into him.

"Time you man-up you hairy old fart!  Drunk in public, drunk at home and
bitching about things you have no idea about.  I have to wonder if we'd be
better off without you!"

Those were fighting words, but Dad always lost because he was hung-over and
couldn't think very well.  He put his head back down on his arms at the
kitchen table.

She brought him his jeans and shirt and threw them at him!

"Go and apologize while I think about letting you stay - you lout!  You're
not a high school football bully anymore; you're an adult man with a
family.  Grow up!"

Dad got cleaned up and left - what else could he do?

Mom was rough on him - shoving him toward the door, yelling at him the
whole time.

He didn't come back for a long time that Sunday.

***

The next morning, Dad left for work, but Fitzy and I were on holiday for
two months.

We were gone in a minute to the bike hills.

When we came home from work that night, Dad didn't sit in his big chair and
gripe at the tele and drink.

He left after dinner and came back at around ten and talked with Mom in
their bedroom a long time.

He left every night that week and came home late, but he wasn't drunk - he
was very quiet and didn't look at Fitzy or me.

Mom didn't say anything, but gave him some sharp looks during dinner
sometimes.  She was still mad, but kept her mouth shut.

***


The next Saturday morning, Dad came in my room and told me to get up.

"Time to shower.  C'mon Teddy."

That surprised me and scared me a little.

While I was peeing, Dad said that it was time I learned how to get cleaned
up like a man, and he was going to check to make sure I did a good job.

In the shower, we wet down, and he started soaping himself.

I couldn't help but notice his erection, but I didn't say anything - he
might think I was a sissy boy and start yelling or maybe smack me.

Facing the wall, I washed quickly, but Dad's hand was on my shoulder and he
turned me around.

"Have you ever seen a man's equipment before?"  He asked.

I shook my head and turned away, I didn't know what he was going to do to
me.

Dad's hands felt good on me as he scrubbed, and he let me touch his
erection and scrotum without calling me any names.

Dad's junk was huge and dark, reddish-gray.

He turned the water off and sat on the side of the tub, pulling me between
his legs.

"Mr. Sellers told me you're sensitive on your penis - must be hard to rub
one off..."

"You talked to Mr. Sellers?"

"Yep.  He showed me your videos.  Let's get cleaned up and go to your
bedroom.  I always enjoyed Saturday morning jerk-offs when I was a kid."

Back in my bedroom, Dad went back to his bedroom and brought some stuff
back.

He closed the door and told me to get on the bed as he shut the blinds and
made the room dark.

"Want some affection?"  He asked, but didn't sound so enthusiastic.

I was afraid to answer - that was sissy-boy territory for sure.

"I bet you do.  Now, let's try another kind of hand job."

He put me on the bed and kissed my head, pulling me close to him.

Dad had a tiny bottle of lube, the kind that Mr. Sellers gave out and a
pair of red, silky panties, probably Mom's fancy underwear.

Mom was skinny; the silky part wasn't very big...

He rubbed my chest, and down to my legs with the panties, and it felt cool
and slippery.

"Gonna help you cum this morning."  He tied the silky panties around my
short shaft and gave the knot a yank.

"You're not supposed to touch your penis, and you want to be held, right?"

"Yeah, but I like the little massager - the way Mr. Sellers does it."

"Well, this morning you've got a two-hundred pound massager who loves you
and you're gonna cum like a champ, okay?"

This felt different, and Dad was doing his best so I told him he had to
hold me really tight.

That felt good, especially when I smelled Dad and rubbed my face on his
chest hair.

Something was missing.

"Dad, you got to pinch my nipples first."  I said in a soft voice, not
wanting to sound too sissified.

"You like that, too?  Always makes me rock hard..."

That was a surprise!  I didn't say anything...

With the lube in hand, he squeezed a few drops on my balls.

I gasped, it was so cold, but that didn't last long, his fingers were warm
and strong as he rubbed it around.

"Aren't you supposed to close your eyes?"  He asked.

I closed my eyes and felt his fingers go between my legs, and my happy,
captured erection throbbed against the silky panties.  It felt as tightly
hugged as I did in Dad's arms.

"Do you know I love you?"  He whispered and pressed the pad of his middle
finger on my ass.

"I always like someone playing with my butt.  You're Mom's a real expert."

I didn't hear much when I concentrated on feeling good.  My hand went to my
nipples and my other hand pinched and pulled my balls.

This was good.

I felt Dad's erection along side my hip, and he moved his hips a little.
It was all juicy down between us.

Dad closed his eyes.

My eyes popped open when Dad shoved his finger inside me, but his eyes were
closed and he was humming and moving his erection against me faster.

His finger felt around inside me until he found the good place and my whole
body jerked.

"Relax and breathe..."  He grunted as he moaned and gasped.

"Damn, I never felt another guy's glands before, but you got `em in spades,
son."

He was humping the side of my body and breathing hard, but it felt good,
and smelled better when he was hard and pressing against me.

"Harder, Daddy!"  I told him in a very high-pitched voice.

My body was shaking I wanted to cum so much and being next to my naked
father only made my orgasm closer.  He was holding me tighter every time
his hips pressed against me.

His finger didn't press harder, but made little circles inside me and I was
so excited, I grabbed the panties and pressed them hard against my erection
and tugged my balls hard.

"Daddy!  Anngh!  Anngh!  Ahhh!"  My hips jerked and I heard my father groan
and there was hot liquid along my ribs and dripping down my chest.

My head went dizzy for a moment, and Daddy pulled his finger out quickly
and almost squished me he held me so hard, and rocked me against him.

Dad's body got shuddered and I felt more hot liquid coming out of his
erection and dripping down my side.

Finally, Dad relaxed a little and he caressed my chest and legs.

"Was that good?"

"The best, I like these panties."

"I'll tell Mom to get some more, you keep these, okay?  Rub the smooth part
on the tip - and squeeze.  That always makes me cum."

Wow!  Dad liked silky panties!

My brain came to a dead halt.  Was Daddy a sissy, or part sissy?  I kept
that to myself.

He looked down at all his semen and took some on his fingertips and tasted
it.

I did too.  It smelled like bleach and tasted strong.

"That's what made you."

"Made me what?"  I thought.  I didn't understand, but I liked Dad being
nice to me.

He explained about how men ejaculate, and when I got bigger, I'd make some
juice too.

"It's called semen, but just call it cum.  If you put it in a girl at the
right time, she gets pregnant and you just made a kid.  But we'll talk more
about that later."

He took me to the bathroom and cleaned us up.

"I've got an appointment this afternoon with Fitzy.  When we come home,
we're going take Mom out for dinner.  How about Mexican, that's your
favorite.  Right?"

"Yeah."  Wow, whatever Dad was doing with Mr. Sellers was all right with
me!

Dad took Fitzy out and they came back later looking a little sad.  He took
Fitzy in the shower and I heard them laughing, then they got quiet.

I wanted to know what happened, so I sneaked into Fitzy's room to ask him
after Mom and Dad went to bed.

***


Fitzy said Dad took him over to Mr. Sellers' for another "gay test."
"Yeah?  What happened?"

He explained that Mr. Sellers lied.

"What?"

Fitzy said that there wasn't any "gay test."  Mr. Sellers just put together
a lot of pictures and made a computer program to click on and the sensors
didn't do anything at all.

Every time people did the test, the results came out the same - couldn't
tell if a person was gay or not.

"Why did he do that?"

"He said that people change during their lives.  A little gay sometimes,
straight sometimes, and sometimes people don't want any sex, or they want
sex for different reasons with different people.  So the test would come
out different every time.  What good is that?"

"So there's no test?"  I couldn't believe that Mr. Sellers would lie.

"No, Mr. Sellers said he used the computer to help people start talking
about different kinds of touches or different kinds of sex.  The pictures
just bring up topics that are hard for people to discuss - especially kids
because they don't know the names for everything."

I didn't understand all that.

"Is Daddy going to call us sissy boys again?"

"No.  Mr. Sellers told him that he needed to give us affection and show us
how men love their bodies.  He said the predators look for kids who have
parents who push them away - easy to snatch those kids."

Then Fitzy started laughing, "He told Dad to give us as much love as he
does his beer."

"What?"  Dad's beer was something we never talked about - it was like some
obvious family secret!

"You know, Dad's always making sure he's got a case in the frig, and it has
to be cold enough, and the right kind, and we better not touch it.  We
can't talk to him while he's drinking and bother him with any questions or
anything.  Dad treats his beer better than us."

"Wow!"  That made sense; Dad loved his beer more than Fitzy and me!

"Oh, yeah, Dad says Mr. Sellers isn't a perv.  We're supposed to call him
our `YSS.'  That's all - he's not a pervert or a fag or anything."

"How do you know?"

"Mr. Sellers showed Dad pictures of his son and told him what happened."

Seemed Mr. Sellers had a wife and a son.  The son came down with something
like mengesus, something like that, and it made Mr. Sellers' son sick for a
long time.

His boy was in a wheelchair and couldn't speak, but there wasn't anything
wrong with his brain, just his muscles - they didn't work right anymore.
He had palsy.

"Mr. Sellers got some money in the courts, but they saved it for his son's
college, and treated him like any other kid.  He went to school like us,
but in special classes and all."  Fitzy explained.

"When he got older, his body grew, but he didn't get any better - still in
a wheelchair and still couldn't talk - still had palsy."

Fitzy described how the boy was teased and bullied.

"Mr. Sellers took him out of school.  His wife stayed home for a while, and
Mr. Sellers got a second job to help with the medications and stuff like
physical therapy...

"He said he talked with his wife, and they decided that they wanted their
kid to have all the regular experiences like we have.  "They went on
vacations and to the big amusement parks, and all that...  Like, they went
on a cruise and to Dizzyworld and tried skiing and went swimming in lakes
in the park - camping and everything.

"At home, Mr. Sellers started jerking his son off, and then some other
stuff - he said it was a holistic parenting.  "His son's hands didn't work,
and he wanted his son to know what masturbation was like and about his body
changing."

"That's when Dad started crying."  Fitzy said.

Then Fitzy came to the hard part.

"When the kid was in high school at some kind of math camp, one of the
special ed assistants changed his son's briefs and saw cum running out of
his ass, and called the cops.

"The police came and Mr. Sellers went to court.  He said he asked the judge
to consider his son's chances of meeting a girl and having a family.  That
didn't help.

"Even when his wife said they had never forced the kid, and the kid asked
for sex, nobody wouldn't listen to any of them."

"Doesn't that make Mr. Sellers a perv?"  I asked.

"I don't know - it's kind of complicated because Mr. Sellers was trying to
be the best dad for his son and his son was almost eighteen.  But
Mr. Sellers went to jail for twelve years cause he put his erection in his
son's ass."

"Where is his son now?"

Fitzy looked away.

"He killed himself - overdosed on his own meds after they took his Dad
away."

"What about his mom?"

"She went into a mental institution - breakdown."

We were quiet for a long time considering all this had happened to our
friend.

"So Dad's going to be nicer to us?"

"I hope.  Mr. Sellers gave him the name of a place that will help him with
his drinking.  Mom'll probably like that."  Fitzy said. "And Mr. Sellers
said he would keep helping Dad with his sexuality and being a good father."

"Help with Dad's sexuality?"  I thought, "Dad's straight, or maybe not."

"Mr. Sellers said to ask Dad for personal time if we want affection - and
if Dad couldn't make time, he would.  He said gay or bisexual or anything
is okay, he wants us to be healthy and happy."

After a long time, "I think I want to try being a sissy boy."

"Don't think Dad would ever go for that."  Fitzy smirked.  "He's still all
hot about being real men being straight.  You know - what he always says."

"Yeah."  But my mind was spinning with new ideas.

I already had a pair of silky red panties, and I wasn't going to let any
chances slip by.



Fin