Date: Fri, 11 Dec 2009 17:52:56 -0500
From: zackarydillon@hushmail.com
Subject: The Boys of Cockney Hills

The Boys of Cockney Hills
A Chronicles of New Atlantis Story
by Zackary Dillon

This story is intended for mature audiences. If you are a minor or not
legally allowed to read erotic material, then please stop reading now. This
story involves sexual relationships between men and boys. If that's not
your thing, then please stop reading now. This story may contain
sado-masochism and bondage, if that's not your thing, please stop reading
now. If you can't separate fantasy from reality, then stop reading now. I
don't endorse or condone any of the actions taking place in this story,
it's just a story. In other words, don't try this at home.

This story was inspired by William Rush's story 'A Christmas in New
Atlantis'. I really liked the story and I thought the world was well
thought out. I decided that I would like to write a story set in that
world. I noticed that William had written a lot about slavery, but not a
lot about pederasty and how sex worked with free boys, so I really wanted
to write something focused on that. With William's approval, I've based my
story on the idea that California separated from the United States in the
mid '90s (come on we all saw that coming). New California, as it's called
in the world of New Atlantis, is part of the Union of New Atlantis. They
allow pederasty and slaves, but you can't force slaves or free boys to have
sex. This particular story follows the trials and tribulations of a man
living in a small town in upstate New California. That's just a little
background for you. I really hope you enjoy this story. If you like this
story and want to read more stories based in the New Atlantis Earth, you
can go to http://www.asstr.org/~pza/ and visit the PZA Boy Archives. If you
want to contact me you can reach me at zackarydillon@Hushmail.com.

Chapter One

A year ago they legalized pederasty in New California, since then I've been
making up for lost time. It's not easy loving little boys and not being
able to do anything about it. After awhile you get to wondering whether
your ever going to find any happiness in life at all. I know that's how I
felt. When the law was passed I cried, really, I'm sure you did too. The
problem is that it's still not accepted, if someone finds out you're
screwing their kid, most of the time they don't take kindly to it, go
figure, so it's not like you can put an ad in the paper saying, 'single
white male looking for single boy to fuck', it doesn't work that way. Also
you have to be aware of the law, it's tricky, I think they did that
intentionally. The law states that you can only have sex with boys who
consent to it, so if you grab a boy off the street and bully them into
having sex, then you're probably going to be spending the next ten years in
prison with a roommate named Bubba.

I pay attention to those kinds of things, good for me. I've been watching
the boys in my neighborhood for awhile now. There are a few I think might
be interested. There are these two twelve year old boys that hang out
together all the time, Chris and Jordan. Chris is a beauty, short cut
blonde hair that's parted to the side, with just a few wisps hanging down
over his forehead, he has these beautiful blue eyes that seem to sparkle
and say, 'please fuck me'. That's not the best part though, he's got those
lips, the ruby red puffy lips that all boy-lovers want, the ones that you
know will just look so sexy wrapped around you dick. Chris isn't fat
either, not like a lot of the kids these days, nope, he's just got that
perfect little twelve year old body, not a lot of muscle, just slim,
smooth, and soft. He's a real looker alright, but the kids also outgoing
and funny or at least tries to be. He's really the boy I'd like to hook up
with, if I get the chance.

Jordan is the exact opposite of Chris. He's hispanic for one, so he has
this soft brown skin and dark black hair that's kept spiked. He has these
deep dark brown eyes and those soft cheekbones those latin boys have, the
ones that set them apart from other boys. He's smaller than Chris, but not
too small, just right. He's a little bit more fit than Chris and that's not
bad either. He's always running around with his shirt off, so I know he's
got a sexy little chest with these perfect little light brown nipples that
you just want to take in your mouth and suck. Mmm... I need to stop myself
there. Jordan's shy though, he doesn't talk a lot. The only friend he has
in the neighborhood is Chris, which is why they're always running around
together.

Anyways you might think, this guy is just some perv looking to score with
some little boys, but that doesn't mean I don't want them to enjoy it
too. I just know about little boy's, my uncle taught me everything about
that sort of thing. When I was nine he took me on a camping trip and
seduced me. Within a week he took my cherry and convinced me that I was his
little 'bitch boy', that's what he called me anyways. He spanked me and
tied me up, did lots of fucked up things that I liked and didn't know
why. Anyways when I grew up I wanted to have a bitch boy of my own so bad,
but up until last year it was illegal so I didn't dare. Now that's all
changed and I'm working on finding the perfect little boy to turn into my
own 'bitch boy'.

You see I learned a few things from my uncle, the first thing is that there
are boys that just like to be bossed around, they're submissive and want
you to discipline them. The second thing I found out was that those boys
really don't know that they're submissive or that they want to be bossed
around, it takes time to teach them that, but once they've learned their
lesson they'll be back time and time again.

I can see Chris right now playing in the abandoned lot across from my
house. He's hitting a sign with a stick, not the most creative thing to do,
but who am I to judge? He's sweating, the little vixen, and I'd really like
to call him over to my house and invite him inside, but I know every parent
in New California has warned their sons about pederasts, he'd figure it out
and probably not go for it. So I just watch and stroke my cock, imagining
the little guy naked and bent over the side of my bed, taking it up his
tight ass. I can hear his clear little boy voice crying out as I stroke my
six inches of circumcised man meat inside of him. Ahh... fantasies. I can't
take it anymore and I cum, these thick spurts of juice that I wish were
landing on the little guy's back, are actually landing on my window sill. I
clean up my juices and watch him as he turns to leave.

God it sucks waiting. I head outside and decide to go for a walk. I feel
better now that I've cum and I don't have that desire to fuck in my
head. Most people will say, what a fucking perv, wanting to fuck little
boys, but I've never seen myself like that. Yes I want to fuck little boys,
but I think God made me want to fuck little boys, just like he made gay
guys want to fuck men and straight guys want to fuck women. I didn't have a
choice in the matter. Maybe my Uncle had something to do with it, maybe if
he hadn't screwed me when I was a kid, I'd be running after women or men
right now, but I'm not entirely sure that's the truth. If you listen to the
New Atlantian Teachers, they'll tell you that there's no such thing as
heterosexual or homosexual, there's just Eros and Agape, lust and love. You
don't decide who you want to fuck or for that matter who you want to love,
it just happens.

I'm not really looking for love, I know about love. My parents were in
'love' for twenty years before they finally figured out it wasn't love, but
a financial arrangement. I'm looking for sex, plain and simple. After
thirty-two years of having my sperm land on my keyboard, my penis is ready
for the real thing.

Speak of the devil, what do I see in front of me, but little shirtless
Jordan. I can see him sitting in the grass looking at the ducks swimming
around in the pond. It's actually a pretty little scene, a momma duck is
leading her flock of baby ducks in search of food. Most little twelve year
old boys would have no interest in watching a bunch of baby ducks, but
Jordan's not most little boys.

"Hey there," I say to the cute little guy.

"Hey Mr. Rogers," Jordan replies.

"Cute aren't they," I say pointing to the ducks.

"Yeah," Jordan says, "I wish I could take one home."

"I don't think they'd do to well without their mom," I told him.

"You're probably right," Jordan says looking up at me.

There's this awkward moment of silence, you know, when you really don't
know what else to talk about, that kind of moment. I shift a bit from foot
to foot, my hands in my pocket, and Jordan he looks at me like he's
nervous, wondering why I stopped to talk to him.

"You're a good kid," I tell him, before I can tell my mouth to shut up,
"most kids your age wouldn't care about a little duckling."

"Thanks," he said.

"No problem," I say trying to smile so I don't look like a lecherous old
man. "Well I got to go."

"Bye," Jordan says.

I nod to him and walk off. I want to hit myself in the head, but I know
that would look crazy, so I just keep telling myself, 'you idiot, why did
you say that?', why didn't you just say, 'ducks, cool, why don't you come
over to my house and we can fuck sometime?'

Maybe I was being to hard on myself, but I really don't want to screw this
up. I want the kid so bad and I'm starting to realize that the key to
getting Chris is getting Jordan first. Even though Jordan is the shy one,
Chris is the needy one and he always follows Jordan's lead. Most people
think it's the opposite, but I've seen them, Jordan walks away, Chris
follows, they don't even realize that's what's happening, but I do.

I sit in my living room and I keep playing the conversation over and over
in my head, wondering if I ruined my chance. I can't take it anymore, it's
driving me crazy. I decide to go out and mow my lawn. I open the garage
door and there he is, Jordan, he's in the lot across the street, watching
my house. I act like I don't notice him, or at least I try to. He's doing
the same thing. I wonder if that's all it takes, just giving the kid a
little attention. He's lonely, maybe he thinks I'll be his friend, but then
again what twelve year old boy is looking for a thirty-two year old man to
be his friend, no, something else is going on.

I start up my mower and start to mow my lawn. I take my shirt off after a
few passes, it's hot and I'm not entirely out of shape, I want to make sure
the kid knows I'm not fat or ugly underneath everything. He's still there,
sitting on a rusted out barrel. I look at him and he looks back at me and
waves, I wave back.

I push the mower to the end of the yard and on my way back I see him
standing on the sidewalk now, watching me. I stop in front of him and say,
"hi."

"Hi," he says back, his hands in his pockets. He's wearing these brown
baggy jean shorts, they're adorable on him. He still doesn't have a shirt
on and I try really hard not to look at his slim little tummy.

"What's up," I ask him, trying to sound cool and nonchalant.

"Nothing," he says, then he looks at the mower. "I can mow your lawn for
you if you want."

"How much," I ask thinking that he wants to earn some money.

"You don't have to pay me," he says. I feel like shit all of sudden, the
kid's so lonely he's willing to work just to make a friend.

"No," I say to him. "I'll pay you for it, how about twenty dollars?"

"That'd be cool," he says with this big cheeky smile.

"Alright," I say motioning for him to grab the mower, "get to it then."

He moves in front of me to take over and his arm brushes against mine, I
feel this shock of tingles throughout my body, his skin is so soft. I walk
over and sit on my porch, watching him mow my lawn. He's doing a crappy
job, but I don't say anything, when he's done, I'll fix the bad patches.

It takes him awhile and he's trying really hard to do it right, but I'm
guessing this is the first time he's ever mowed anyone's yard. When he
finishes he turns off the mower and walks over to where I'm sitting. His
body's glistening with sweat now. I try to think of puppies and grandma,
anything to keep myself from getting a boner.

"Good job," I say to him, pulling out my wallet. I hand him a twenty and he
grabs it from my hand. I can tell he doesn't get a lot of money.

"Thanks," he says, "do you want me to mow it again next week."

"Yeah," I say, "that would be great."

"Cool," he says smiling.

"Do you want a drink," I say, "you look hot."

"Okay," he says.

"Come on inside," I say, opening the door to my house. He pauses, not sure
if he should go inside. He looks up and down the street to make sure no one
is watching, then he steps inside my house. He walks into the living room
and stands by the couch. I go into the kitchen and grab some cokes from the
fridge, on the way back I grab a towel from the linen closet and hand it to
him.

"Here," I say, "you can dry yourself off."

He grabs the towel and coke and says, "thanks."

I watch him as he rubs the towel over his body. I wish it was me drying him
off, but I try not to let him know that. I sit down on the couch and motion
for him to sit down in the chair across the way. He does and my heart skips
a beat.

"Thanks for mowing the yard," I say, watching him as he takes a sip of
soda. He's looking around my living room. I can tell he's impressed, he
keeps staring at my plasma TV and my Atlantis 3600 video game system. "You
like video games," I ask him.

"Yeah," he says, "I don't got one yet."

"Well you save your money up and you can buy yourself one," I say.

"Yeah," he says, staring at me now, starting to get nervous.

There's a moment where neither of us says a word, we're just looking at
each other, wondering what the hell is going on, or at least that's what
I'm wondering.

"You got anything else for me to do," he asks suddenly, looking at me. I
can't be sure, but I think he looked at my crotch.

"I don't know," I say, suddenly getting very nervous myself, wondering what
he wants to do.

"I can do lots of things," he says.

"Cool," I say, "what did you want to do?"

"I don't know," he says, "what do you want me to do?"

Fuck, I'm going to scream if this keeps going like this. I wish he'd just
say, 'hey you want me to suck your dick for another twenty?' I don't say
anything, I just look at him, trying to get an idea of what he wants.

"Well what are you good at," I ask.

"Lots of stuff," he says. I can tell this isn't going to get me anywhere,
he's not going to come out and ask, he doesn't want to get in trouble for
saying the wrong thing.

"Well there's lots of stuff I can think of," I say, "but you might be too
young to do some of it."

"I'm not too young," he says. "What kind of stuff do you want me to do?"

"Do you really want to know," I ask him, my voice sounds huskier than I'd
have liked it to.

"Yeah," he says, fidgeting in his seat.

"Well I'd like to see what you look like without those shorts on," I
finally say, waiting for him to run screaming out of the room. He waits,
the lines been crossed and I'm not sure if he's okay with that now.

"How much will you give me," he asks finally, standing up in front of the
chair.

"How much do you want," I ask.

He think for a minute, looks at me, I'm sure he's trying to figure out what
a fair price would be, then he blurts out, "twenty dollars."

I look at him. If he wants twenty just to get naked, I know he's going to
rob me if I try to get him to suck me off, I shake my head and say, "ten
dollars."

"Ten," he asks, sounding disappointed.

"Yeah," I say to him, trying hard not to lick my lips. "Ten seems fair."

"Okay," he says hooking his fingers into his shorts, then pausing, "but you
can only look for ten."

My prick surges with blood as I realize he's willing to do more. I nod my
head and take a twenty out and lay it down in front of me on the coffee
table.

I watch as he pulls his shorts down slowly, he's obviously a bit shy about
exposing himself to me. I soak in the moment, waiting to see that beautiful
little prick make it's appearance, when it does, I'm not disappointed.

He's uncircumcised and his penis is the same color as the rest of his body,
that cute little light tan color, it's about as long as my middle finger,
so about three inches long, and it's stiff as a board. He seems embarrassed
that he has a hard on and his hands move to cover it. I smile, looking at
his hairless little pubis. His tummy forms this nice little rounded V that
seems to move your eyes straight to his crotch.

"Come on," I say to him, shifting my dick in my pants, "I'm not paying ten
dollars to see you cover your dick up."

He looks at me and I can tell he's wondering if he wants to do this
anymore. I wait, not saying anything, letting him make up his mind and
then, very slowly, he pulls his hand away and I can see it again, that slim
little pricklet curving up towards his tummy, hard as a nail.

"It's beautiful," I say, without even thinking. He blushes and turns his
head away, not wanting to look at me. "Come closer," I tell him.

He looks at me, deciding whether or not he wants to do that, then he
finally takes a few awkward steps towards me, his shorts wrapped around his
ankles, until he's just out of my reach. He's holding the base of his rod
with his thumb and index finger, looking down at it, like he's trying to
decide for himself if it's beautiful or not.

"You don't need to be ashamed," I say, "you've got a sexy little body."

"I'm not sexy," he says, not realizing just how beautiful he is. I want to
touch him, to stroke that little rod and watch the kid cum, but I know he's
not ready for that.

"Yes you are," I say, pursing my lips, then deciding to take it a bit
further say, "show me the tip."

He pulls his foreskin back over the end and I see the tip, almost shiny,
it's an angry purplish brown color. I know he masturbates because a second
later he starts pulling the foreskin back and forth over the end, jerking
himself off in front of me.

"That's cool," I say looking at him, I shift in my seat and lean forward
trying to get a better look, he misreads my signals and steps closer,
taking his hand away from his little cock looking at me expectantly. I
reach out, barely able to touch him, and run my finger over the end, he
shivers and tenses up. "Does that hurt," I ask him.

"No," he says, "I like it."

"Good," I say to him running my fingers down along his stiff little rod,
then pulling the foreskin over the tip. Even hard the foreskin covers it
completely, leaving a little skin for me to tug on and pull away from his
body. He hisses, but stays still. I look at him, this hungry look in my
eyes. I want to suck him, so I use his foreskin to pull him closer to
me. He doesn't resist he takes a few more steps towards me and he's
standing right in front of me.

I lean down, pull the foreskin back over the end and stick out my tongue,
flicking it across his sensitive head. His hands grab hold of my hair, like
he's grabbing the handlebars on a bicycle. He stands there letting me
lavish attention to his cute little penis, breathing a bit heavier,
relishing the sensations I'm giving him.

"Do you like that," I ask him, looking up to see the confusion on his
face. He doesn't say anything, he just nods, never letting go of my hair. I
return to licking the tiny head, listening to him make little cooing sounds
as I run my tongue in circles, finally pressing against his piss slit.

"That's really nice," he says, a serious look on his face.

"I'm glad," I say, looking up at him, "but I think you'll like this
better."

I lean forward and take his dick in my mouth. I can fit the whole thing
inside without any difficulty. He gasps and lurches forward, gripping my
hair even tighter, his eyes widen and he's got this surprised look on his
face, like he's not sure he's supposed to feel what he's feeling.

I take my time, sucking his cock in and out my mouth, relishing the salty
taste that comes from underneath his unwashed foreskin. He keeps watching,
wondering what will happen, whether I'm going to take him all the way. I
wonder if he's old enough to shoot yet. He doesn't have a hair on his body
except for his head, but his little almond sized nuts tell me
different. They hang down under his penis like little pendulums, jiggling
as I move my mouth along his tiny cock. I start to roll them around in my
fingers.

"Do I get more than ten dollars now," he asks out of the blue. I almost
laugh, but I don't, instead I just nod, never taking his little rod out of
my mouth. "Cool," he says.

I can feel him tense up, his body is rigid and I know he's close. I speed
up making sure to press my tongue to the bottom of his dick, running it up
and down the length, he lets out this whimper, almost like he's in pain and
then grunts, I feel the first tiny spurt of boy juice hit the top of my
mouth, then another. It's not too salty, he's not shooting sperm yet, just
that clear stuff from his prostrate. He tightens his grip on my hair,
almost to the point that it hurts, but I don't stop, I keep going, milking
as much of his sweet fluid as I can. When I'm done, he hasn't shot much,
but it's enough to give me a good taste of him. Finally I let his dick go
and he looks down at me, weak kneed, he holds onto my shoulders so he
doesn't fall over. His little dick isn't so stiff anymore, it hangs in
front of me curving downwards, the blood drifting back to his body.

"Did you like it," I ask him, still rolling his balls in my hand, he
nods. "Good," I say. "Do you think you can cum again?" He nods
again. "Alright, go sit in the chair and jerk off," I say to him.

He stares at me a second, a bit disappointed, then waddles over to the
chair and sits down. I watch him as he starts to roll the foreskin over the
end of his dick and then back off, he's just using his thumb and two
fingers. It looks adorable. I fish my cock out of my pants and his eyes get
big as he sees the full stiff six inches of circumcised man meat.

I stroke my cock up and down watching him, trying to time myself to his
second orgasm. I'm not sure if I'll be able to last, the kids got me so
horny, I feel like I'm going to come any second. I have to stop now and
again to keep myself from coming. Jordan groans and jerks his hips up in
the air, his mouth forming the perfect little 'o' as he gets close. I speed
up and just has he cries out, I cum, thick spurts of my seed go shooting up
in the air and land on my belly. He's watching me, not able to take his
eyes away from the sight.

When I'm done I grab the towel the boy used to clean the sweat off his body
and wipe the cum off my stomach and hand. I look at him wondering how he
feels now, if he might have that post orgasmic remorse that I felt when I
was his age. It didn't look like he did, because he was smiling.

"That was so cool," he says, "how much money do I get."

I laugh and hand him the full twenty. He pulls his shorts up and walks over
and grabs it. He doesn't leave right away, instead he sticks around and
looks at my game system and TV. He sorts through the games I have, telling
me which ones were cool and which ones weren't.

When he leaves he asks when he can come back and I tell him whenever he
feels like it. I watch his little butt as he runs down the street,
wondering what my dick will feel like when it's wrapped around it.

To be continued