Date: Sun, 15 Jul 2012 01:06:48 -0400 (EDT) From: ErastesTouch@aol.com Subject: Throw Away Kid, chapter 1 Throw Away Kid - by Erastes Copyright 2012 by Erastes Chapter 1 – A Chance Meeting. My name is Kyle Loomis and I met Bryce quite by accident. It happened when I went to a part of the city that I seldom, if ever, frequented. At the time, I was looking for a building that I could use as another warehouse for my expanding business, and a colleague had suggested I check out an old abandoned factory that he remembered being there. He told me that I could probably get it fairly cheap and then be able to acquire low-interest loans from the city and state to fix- up the property. The building also had the advantage that it was located only a couple of blocks from the on and off ramps to a major highway, so it would be easy for the drivers to locate. I couldn't argue with his reasoning and the things he had told me about the building were definitely a plus, so I went to inspect it. I took the highway to get there, just to see how convenient it would be for the various suppliers, as well as our trucks, to get in and out of the area. I was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was. There were just two turns to be made, and they both looked as if they would be fairly easy to navigate, when I pulled up in front of the structure. I was only planning to view the building from the outside, to make sure it was fundamentally sound and worth the investment of time and money, but when I saw the broken door, which was opened wide enough for a person to slide past, it just beckoned to me to go inside. I squeezed through the opening, stepped into the shadowy interior and paused momentarily so my eyes could adjust to the lower amount of light inside. Although the windows on the lower level had been boarded up sometime in the past, there were still a sufficient number of gaps in the coverage and enough holes in the boards, from kids throwing rocks at them, that there was a limited amount of daylight filtering inside. When my eyes became accustomed to these darker surroundings, I decided to take a stroll. Basically this was just a large brick and cinderblock structure, with cement floors and ceilings. It had a nearly totally open floor plan and all four walls were covered with large groupings of windows, which once allowed the daylight in so employees could perform their jobs. By the looks of the place, this had probably been in use during the 40's and 50's, when the US was flexing its muscle as a manufacturing powerhouse. Unfortunately, the economy had changed over the years, as the nation switched from a manufacturing to a service-based sector, and this building was probably shut down in the late 70's or sometime during the 80's, and has remained abandoned ever since. I could see definite potential here, but I still wanted to check out the upper two floors as well, to make sure they were in as good a condition as the lower one. After I looked around, I finally spotted the stairway. When I walked up the steps to the second floor, I could immediately see that this area was better illuminated than the first floor, since the boards only covered the lower two-thirds of each window on this level. As I looked around and attempted to find out if there were any signs of significant decay on this level, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that it looked to be in decent shape. I continued to check out this area, to make certain I didn't miss anything, and spotted something over in the far corner. Unsure of what it was, I went over to investigate. When I got closer, I still didn't know if it was a pile of rubbish that had been left there or a collection of debris that had fallen from the walls and ceiling. As I attempted to learn if this was anything to be concerned about, I was able to tell that it was a pile of blankets, with a young boy buried beneath them. Concerned, I bent down to see if he was still breathing, since I conjectured that something dreadful might have happened to him. As I poked at the pile, I was quickly relieved when he moved slightly, which let me know he was alive. He appeared to be about twelve or thirteen years old and sleeping peacefully, so now I began to wonder what a young boy like that would be doing here. I wasn't sure what to do next, so I just stood beside him and studied his features, while I considered if I should wake him. His face was smudged with dirt, but that was to be expected, seeing where he was, but I could still tell that he was quite cute, even under the grunge. Yes, I did notice things like that. You see, I'm a closeted boy-lover and I always notice good-looking boys. I've never acted on my feelings, since I was always too scared of losing everything I'd worked so hard to gain, but I still liked to look at the boys and dream. As I stood there admiring him, I noted his oblong face, thin lips, light brown hair and delicate features. This had the effect of making my blood begin to boil and my heart beat a little faster. Without much warning, a sudden urge to sneeze came over me and escaped my lips before I had time to stifle it. It was not a dainty sneeze or the sort let loose with a soft achoo. Instead, it was the type of sneeze that rattled the glass in the windows when let loose. This sudden noise startled the boy awake and he sat bolt upright, his eyes showing signs of fear. "Who are you and what do you want?" he asked, with as much bravado as he could muster. "Calm down, kid. I don't want anything," I tried to assure him. "I'm here because I'm thinking about buying this building and just came to check it out. I didn't know you were crashing at this location." "It's just temporary, until I find someplace better," he said defensively. I don't believe he realized that he had given me more information than he probably should have. If I had meant him harm, I would have known that he was on his own and no one knew where he was, so I could have done whatever I wanted to him. Fortunately for him, I wasn't like that and only tried to get additional information without alarming him. "Ok, that's cool, but why is a kid your age out here on his own anyway?" I followed, without displaying much emotion. "That's none of your business," he spat back. "I don't have to explain myself to you." "No, you don't, but if you did, I might be able to help you," I offered. At this point, he decided to stand up, to put us more on an equal footing. I suspect he might have also done this in case he decided he should run away. As he had pushed aside the blankets, I noticed that he was also quite slender, which made me wonder if this was his normal build or merely the result of a recent lack of food. Either way, the kid looked as though he could use a good meal. "Why would you do that?" he challenged, once he was on his feet. I could tell he was still kind of scared, but he was putting up a good front not to show it. "Well, it's because there was a time in my life when someone reached out and helped me," I explained, "and I'd like to return that favor by helping someone else." "Believe me, you wouldn't want to help me," he countered, while avoiding making eye contact. "Why do you say that?" I asked. "I think you look like the perfect candidate for a helping hand." "Well, maybe I could use some help," he conceded, "but you probably wouldn't think I was worth it, if you knew more about me." At this point, he lowered his eyes from looking in my direction and seemed to be staring at the floor. I wasn't sure why he thought he was so worthless, but obviously someone had berated him so harshly and often that he now didn't feel he was worth even the slightest kindness. I'm also smart enough to realize that you can't easily reprogram someone who has been treated this way and convince them they aren't as bad as they've been led to believe, so I thought maybe I should try to get him to see this for himself. "Why? Have you killed someone?" I challenged. Hearing this, he looked up at me again, but this time he had a very serious expression on his face. "No, I've never done anything like that," he admitted. "I wouldn't hurt anyone, unless they were trying to hurt me." By telling me this, he seemed determined to convince me that he wasn't really a bad person. "Do you deal drugs to other kids?" I pressed. Again, he looked shocked that I even thought this about him. "No, I wouldn't do that either," he confirmed. "Do you think I'm evil?" "No, but you're the one who told me I wouldn't want to help you, so I decided to see how bad you really were," I confessed. He was eyeing me now, trying to figure out what I was up to. I gave him a minute to think this over, and then I continued. "Well, if you don't do those things, I can't think of anything else that would make you unworthy of my help. Can you?" I followed. "Yes, I can," he replied, to my surprise. "You wouldn't want me if you knew how I made money to eat and stuff." "Are you a thief?" I challenged, without hesitation. This time, he looked a bit embarrassed. "Well, I have stolen some food and other little things to get by, but nothing big," he admitted. Although he seemed sincere, I felt I needed to pursue this a little further. "Would you steal from me?" I pressed. "No, sir. I'd never do that, especially if you're trying to help me," he confirmed. I believed him, because he was coming across as an honest and likable young man, so I couldn't understand why he had insisted that I wouldn't want to help him. Confused, I decided that I needed to see if I could get this information out of him. "Then why wouldn't I want to help you?" I asked, directly. There was a slight pause before he responded, and once again he looked down at the floor and not at me. "You just wouldn't. Trust me about that," he offered. The poor kid seemed really sad as he said this and I got the feeling he wanted my help, but didn't feel he deserved it. He also remained hesitant to let me know what was so awful about his background, so I thought it was time to try to take him off the hook. "No, I think it would be better if you trusted me, instead," I countered. "You still haven't told me anything that would convince me that you're as terrible as you claim, and I can't think of anything you could have done that would keep me from helping you out. I asked you about the things that might make me reconsider my offer, and since you haven't done any of those things, I still want to do what I can. When was the last time you showered or had a decent meal?" "I clean up every day or so and eat when I need to," he stated, defiantly, After hearing his response, I studied this kid and tried to get a feel for why he was reacting the way he did. I also wanted to know why he was so defensive about every question I asked him. It was obvious he'd been hurt before, emotionally and maybe even physically, and it probably wasn't just a one-time occurrence either. This was most likely the way he'd protected himself since the abuse first began, by not letting anyone else get close to him again. However, I wasn't about to take 'no' for an answer. "Look, kid. You still didn't answer my question," I reiterated. "Let's try this one more time. When was the last time you showered and washed your clothes?" "I wash up every few days or so, but I haven't taken a shower in a while," he finally admitted. "I wash my clothes whenever I need to, but I haven't gone to the Laundromat lately." "I can see that," I commented, with a slight chuckle. "Ok, I guess your answer will do for now. So when was the last time you had a real meal?" "I ate at McDonald's last night," he replied. "I'm sorry, but I don't consider that a real meal," I countered. "When was the last time you sat down at a table and ate a meal off a plate, using silverware?" He merely looked at me and didn't respond. I could see from his expression that he either didn't want to tell me this information or he couldn't actually remember, so I decided to let him off the hook again. "Ok, we'll skip that question for now," I relented. "What would you think about going back to my place, where you can take a shower and I can throw your clothes in the washing machine, while I fix us a nice dinner?" "You aren't planning to hurt me or anything, are you?" he followed. Even though he sounded concerned, I could tell that he didn't really believe I would, or he wouldn't have even consider my offer. "Well, I probably wouldn't tell you if I were planning to, but NO," I replied, as convincingly as I could. "I don't want to hurt you in any way. Maybe after you've cleaned up and had something to eat, you'll trust me enough to tell me a little more about yourself. Deal?" He looked at me apprehensively, while trying to gauge whether or not he could actually trust me. After thinking about my proposal for a while and weighing all of the possibilities, I think he concluded that if I were going to harm him, I would have done so by now. I think he realized that I could have easily done as I wished with him where we were and not waited until I got him back to my place, so I believe this was enough to convince him to give it a try. "Ok, deal," he finally agreed. "Great, my name is Kyle... Kyle Loomis and I'm glad to meet you," I announced, as I held out my hand to him. Surprisingly, he didn't take it right away. First, he tried to wipe both sides of his hand on his pants, to make sure it wasn't covered with anything first, and then he tentatively reached out to shake. "Hi, I'm Bryce," he told me, in a very meek voice. He was looking at my hand and not at my face when he said this. "Well, hello, Bryce, I'm glad to meet you," I responded. "Do you happen to have a last name?" He immediately looked up this time and gave me a weak grin, before he nodded his head. "Yeah, it's Hobbs," he announced. "Ok, Bryce Hobbs. Why don't we gather up your belongings and take them down to my car," I suggested. "Then, we can get you cleaned up and fed." Bryce nodded his head and I helped him collect his belongings, which were stored in two well-worn items – a small duffel bag and a backpack. We each grabbed one of those items and carried them down to put in the trunk of my car. We did have some trouble getting them through the narrow opening, because the two satchels kept snagging on the doorway as we tried to squeeze through, but we managed. Once we were outside, I threw his belongings into the trunk of my car, but then I noticed he was hesitating before getting into my passenger side door. That's when I realized he didn't want to sit on the seat of my fairly new Lexus in his dirty clothes. After considering the situation, I eased his fears by grabbing a small throw blanket that I kept folded on the back seat and used it to cover where he was going to sit. I keep the blanket there for when I hauled items from work or when loading groceries in the car, but it would serve this purpose as well. Once I had him buckled in, he made several comments about the car, telling me how nice it was and wanting to know if I were rich or something That's when I decided to tell him a little about my background and about the business I had built from scratch. Bryce seemed fairly impressed by this information and seemed interested in the fact that I dealt in electronic devices and computers. I owned several good-sized stores within a 300-mile radius, and the building I was checking out was to house my second warehouse. You see, we were projecting to open several more stores over the next couple of years and our current warehouse was not adequate to handle that type of volume and growth. Therefore, if I added this second warehouse to handle one side of the business, so we could grow without harming our current locations. He was very interested in what I told him and we talked about this during the entire trip to my house. I happened to live in a nice suburb, a dozen or more miles from the city limits, where it was still wooded and fairly private. It wasn't a mansion by any means, but it wasn't your average home in your typical neighborhood either. It was a four bedroom English Tudor home, with almost 2,200 square feet of living space. I don't know why I bought such a large home in the first place, other than it was a good place to entertain my business associates, but it was much larger than I actually needed. I know it had something to do with the fact that I loved this type of architecture, but it also had something to do with the very private wooded lot and the large in-ground pool that was there. As I pulled into the driveway and parked in front of the attached garage, Bryce's eyes became as large as saucers and his mouth hung open. "You live here?" he asked, while showing his excitement and tacit approval. "Yes, sir. This is the place I call home," I confirmed. I glanced over at him again and noticed his mouth was still hanging slightly open, as he scanned the area before him. "It's huge," he observed. "It's almost as big as those apartment buildings down the street from where I was staying, and four families live in them." He looked at me, with his big brown eyes shining with excitement, and I was intrigued by the child-like wonder they belied. No matter how tough and mature he tried to act, there was still the wonder and excitement of a little boy inside. "It is a little on the large side, but it's not so bad," I agreed. "Not so bad, I think it's awesome," he announced. "Man, you must be a millionaire or something." He was so excited now that he was bouncing up and down on the seat, so I felt that I needed to get him out of there and turn his caged-up energy loose. "Well, maybe something like that, but I do own it with the bank," I confirmed. "Why don't I take you inside and show you around?" Bryce nodded eagerly at my suggestion and sprang from the car. He ran across the yard to look along the far side of the house next and then came back to do the same thing to the other side. While he was checking out the outside, I got his things out of the trunk and set them beside the car. When he ran back to where I was waiting for him, he was still excited and slightly breathless. "Man, this place is so cool," he gushed. "I can't believe you live here." "Well, I do, and now you'll be living here too, at least for a while," I told him. Hearing what I'd said, he looked up at me and grinned. I guessed he was probably feeling about as important as he ever had, as I placed my arm across his shoulder. Instinctively he pulled away at first, but then he relaxed, looked at me and smiled. Finally, we picked up his bags and I led him to the door, before guiding him inside. I gave Bryce the cheap tour of the house first, since I figured that he wouldn't remember much being so excited, and he was quite overwhelmed by the size of the place. I did show him which bedroom he would be using, which was at the top of the stairs and across the hall from mine, and he quickly announced that it was bigger than any bedroom he had ever seen before. I also took him back into the hallway and pointed out the bathroom that he would be using as well and explained that it would be his own private bathroom for now. He asked me why I didn't use it, so I told him that I used the bathroom off the master bedroom. He seemed shocked that we had more than one bathroom to use, so I told him that I'd show him all of that later. In the meantime, we went back downstairs to take care of business. First, we took his things to the laundry room, which was just off the entrance between the garage and the house, and I started running the water to put in the first load. I quickly decided that we should probably wash everything in very hot water first, just in case there were any vermin in with them, and then I would rewash them, separating the whites, so I could also add bleach. I was mildly surprised to discover that he didn't have many articles of clothing with him, at least many that weren't threadbare and tattered, so I put the halfway decent ones in the washer and left the others in the bag. The larger bag was filled with the bedding he had been using, so I decided to toss them in the trash as well. I'd discard those things later, so I didn't embarrass Bryce in the process. When I told him that he might as well throw all of his clothes in the washer, including the ones he was wearing, I was somewhat shocked that he didn't hesitate and took everything off right there. After throwing those items into the washer, he stood unashamedly in front of me, totally naked. I had expected that he might keep his underwear on and leave those to be washed later, thus not exposing his goodies to me, but he never balked. Obviously, this wasn't a concern for him and he stood beside me now, in full view. Giving him a visual inspection, I noted that he was even more slender than I'd first thought and I could actually count his ribs through his skin. However, I was more interested in what I saw below his waist. I must have appeared to be staring at that area now, but he didn't mention anything about it or act any differently toward me. I couldn't help myself though and was mesmerized by what I saw. My eyes were instinctively drawn to his three-inch, limp, circumcised cock, which had a small band of dark hairs running above it. Eventually, I regained my composure and was able to continue doing his laundry. As I dropped the lid on the washer and started to walk away, Bryce asked me a question. "Mr. Loomis, is there a towel for me to use in the bathroom?" he wanted to know. I stopped and turned to answer him. "First of all, you can call me Kyle and not Mr. Loomis," I advised him. "Second, there is a linen closet to the right of the bathroom door and you can grab a towel from there, before you go in. There should be a new bar of soap in the soap dish and a bottle of shampoo in the shower. I've got a large hot-water tank, so use all the hot water you want." "Thanks, Kyle, and I'll be back down in a little while," he announced. "Take your time," I advised him. "You may want to stay in there and soak for a while, to make sure you get totally clean. While you're doing that, I'll fix dinner for us. I put some chicken breasts in the frig this morning, if that's ok with you?" "Yeah, that sounds fine," he agreed. Having said that, he disappeared up the stairs. Fortunately, I had three chicken breasts marinating during the day, since I like leftover chicken for some reason. I think it makes great sandwiches and it always seems to taste better after it's been sitting in the refrigerator for a while. Anyway, I put the chicken in the oven, along with four baking potatoes, and then I fixed some sliced carrots and made a tossed salad for each of us. When Bryce came back down stairs, the table was set, and the food was nearly done. I had also taken his clothes out of the washer after the first cycle had ended and separated them. Then, I put the whites through again, while the others sat in the laundry basket, ready to become the next load. It was during this time, before they'd even gone into the dryer, that Bryce came back downstairs. He didn't even bother to wrap a towel around his waist for modesty. "Hmmm, smells good. Are my clothes ready yet?" he asked. "No, it will take a while yet, because I wanted to run them through twice," I explained, "but I'll run up to my room and get a robe for you." "Nah, you don't have to, unless my being naked bothers you," he replied. "No, that doesn't bother me, but I think you should wear something at the table," I reasoned. He seemed to accept my logic, so I went up to my room and brought back the robe I had purchased as a backup. I handed it to him and told him he could keep it, so he just smiled at me, as he tied the belt around his waist. Before I began to serve the meal, I went back to the laundry room and moved Bryce's whites to the dryer and then placed his colored clothes in the washer. I figured that I should be able to take the whites out of the dryer and put the coloreds in by the time we had finished eating, so he would have something to choose from later. After I finished doing that, I went back to the kitchen and started carrying the food into the dining room. When Bryce saw me doing this, he rushed out to assist me. I quickly thanked him for helping and we carried the rest of the items into the dining room and set them on the table. Then I told Bryce about his choice of salad dressings and allowed him select the one he wanted, and then I went out to get that particular variety out of the refrigerator. When I returned, I told him to help himself to whatever he wanted, but he was a little reticent, so I ended up dishing everything out for him. He thanked me and then began to wolf the food down very quickly. "Hey, slow down there, champ. I'm not going to take it away," I teased. This caused him to stop and look at me, before he gave me a sheepish grin. "Sorry, it's just a bad habit I've gotten into," he confessed. After that, he began a more leisurely approach to dining and took time to actually taste the food before swallowing it. He did stop a little while later, in order to tell me that it was all very good, and this helped to start a conversation between us. "Do you live here all alone?" he wanted to know. "Yes, I do," I confirmed. "Unfortunately, I've been too busy trying to establish my business to think about a relationship. Does that bother you?" "No way," he announced. "I was just wondering why you had such a big place, if you were the only one that lived here." "I've often wondered that myself," I agreed. "It all began the first time I saw this place, because I just fell in love with everything about it, so I signed a purchase agreement a short time later. It certainly wasn't because I needed this much room, but I have held some parties here for my managers and their families, as well as for others involved with my business. It has worked out well and it's nice to have a home large enough to do things like that when I want. At other times I just kind of bang around in this big old place." Bryce hesitated a second before asking his next question, because it appeared as if he was trying to decide if he should be so bold. Finally, he must have decided I wouldn't mind, so he let fire. "Do you mind if I ask how old you are?" he wondered. I saw an opportunity here, so I took it. "Not if you're willing tell me some more things about yourself," I offered. He hesitated momentarily, while looking me squarely in the eyes, but eventually gave me an answer. "I will, but I can't tell you all of it yet," he explained. "Maybe when I get to know you a little better then I'll tell you more." "That sounds fair," I agreed. "Well, I'm 31. How old are you?" "I'm twelve, but I'll turn thirteen in a couple of months." "Twelve years old and you ran away from home," I observed. "Man, it must have been really bad for you." I wondered if I should have said that. as soon as he broke eye contact with me and looked down at the table. After a slight delay, he finally gave me an answer. "It was, but I don't want to talk about that now," he stated. "That's fine, but we'll need to come up with something so people won't start wondering about you," I acknowledged. "It's summer and you'd be out of school anyway, so why don't we just tell people that you're my nephew, just in case they ask. You'd be my sister's son, to explain the difference in our last names, and she sent you here to stay with me, because she and your dad are going through a very difficult divorce. Can you remember all of that?" "Sure. No problem," he confirmed. "Good! That way you won't have to get into any of the real reasons you're here and it will keep everyone else from getting curious," I explained. "Your parents' names will be Sherry and Bob. Ok?" "Yeah, and thanks," he agreed. "I appreciate that you're not making me tell you everything now." "Hey, I can understand why you wouldn't want to divulge those things, until you know me better," I confessed. "Actually, that's a pretty smart precaution. We'll just leave it that way for now and you can fill me in about the rest of it when you're ready." "Thanks. I already think I can trust you, but I just want to wait a little while longer," he replied. "That's fine and I'll try not to rush you," I agreed. After our conversation, I told him to help himself to seconds, if he wanted more. Again he was reluctant to do so, since it appeared that he didn't want to take advantage of my hospitality, so I split the final chicken breast with him, gave him another baked potato, and then divided the remaining carrots between our plates. Once we had both finished our meal, he announced that he would do the dishes. I understood that this was his attempt to pay me back for everything, but I advised him it wouldn't be necessary. I explained that we just had to carry the dishes out to the kitchen, rinse them off in the sink and then put them in the dishwasher. As soon as he understood, Bryce said he'd do it all, and seeing how important it was for him, I agreed. I just went out to the kitchen with him to make sure he did it correctly. When that task was completed, I went out to the dryer, pulled out his whites and told him that he had underwear there that he could put on. To my surprise, he seemed to be in no hurry and said he would do it in a while. Rather than trying to pressure him, I threw the other load into the dryer and started it, before going into the family room to join him. "Would you like some ice cream for desert?" I asked, before taking a seat. "Thank you, but not right now. Maybe later," he answered. After sitting down with him, we decided to watch television for a while. When the program ended, I made an announcement. "Look, your other clothes should be dry by now, so I want you to get dressed," I told him. "Then, I'm going to take you to the mall and buy you some new clothes. I'm not trying to make any judgments here, but your old things have seen better days and you'll need something nicer to wear, if you're going to go places with me." At first he appeared shocked by my announcement and then he began to look as if he was a bit embarrassed. Hoping it might put him at ease, I was going to tell him the rest of my plans, but he spoke first. "I know my clothes aren't in very good shape, but you don't have to buy me new ones and pay for them," he announced, looking guilty. "I can get a job and buy some new clothes later." "No, you'll need them sooner than that and I don't mind spending a little money on you," I confirmed, hoping to ease his discomfort. "Then I'll work for you, so I can pay you back," he offered, "or I can go look for another job and then give you some money every time I get paid." "Look, you don't have to worry about paying me back," I insisted, "and besides, there is very little that you'll need to do around here. I have a lady who comes in twice a week to clean the house and I've hired a company to come over once a week to take care of the yard. The pool guy comes by regularly as well, although the number of times he shows up depends upon the time of the year. Besides, what are you going to do to make money?" After I made my comment, I got a sudden feeling that I shouldn't have gone as far as I did, because Bryce turned red and looked away from me. I wasn't sure why he did this, but I knew that I had accidentally blundered upon a sensitive issue. Fortunately, the buzzer went off on the dryer about that same time, so I took him out, let him select something to wear and then told him to get dressed. He took his robe off, tossed it on the dryer and began to dress right there. While he did that, I checked some of the sizes in his other garments, so I would have an idea about what sizes we'd need to get him. When he finished getting dressed, we went outside, got in the car and set out for the mall.