Date: Mon, 18 Sep 2006 00:12:35 +0100 From: Joey Tailor Subject: Finding-Dad 2 Since I met Dad, I Stayed with him the two last weekends before school let out for summer vacations. The third week seemed to drag on forever until Friday evening came around and I sat waiting for him on the front door step. His engine is the first sound I can truly say I put to memory. That day I realized my Mom also knew the sound of my Dad coming up the driveway. Jumping off my butt I ran to my side of the truck and leaped up taking my place. I know I always rattled off about how much I missed him and the fun things I did all week. This time, I saw my Mom walking up to Dads window. 'Oh shit.' I thought to myself. With a half burned out smoke in her face, she started giving Dad a hard time. "Look, I have him every fucking week day of the year." "Don't you think its about fucking time you took care of the brat?" Her cigarette never left her cracked lips as she swore like a trooper. "At least for the fucking summer, or send him away to a fucked up camp." "Your right Penny." Dad surprised Mom and me both. "Your right, I have been a bad Father to our son." His eyes were telling a sad story. "You deserve a break." "About fucking time you saw it too." Mom bought into Dads fake confession. "Chris, go get your stuff." Dad turned to look directly at me. "Its time I took a bigger role in your life. You are going to move in with me for the summer, just like your Mom said." I was in that house gathering my stuff faster that a teenage-mutant-ninja-turtle. Don't know what my rents talked about, but by crap I was happier than a weenie on a stick. Dad did not send me to camp, but he offered to let me go if I wanted. No sir, I spent all six weeks with my Dad. We had a great time. Even his Boss was nice to me. They got me a real expensive suit and I got to go to work with my Dad. He drove a big silver limo and I got to open the door and act like a grown up for the summer. I earned a few tips and Dad paid me a small wage. It was never about the money, but I was sure happy to have my own stash. Dad also explained the importance of what I learned from working and having people trust in me. We all returned to our normal routines after summer. Dad promised things would get better. I just had to trust him and be patient. The 'end of day' school bell rang out in the hallways sending 300+ elementary school kids wild. Chair legs screeched on the tiled floors as their occupants butts stood. Back-packs and were stuffed with books and thrown over shoulders. Students were already running out of the school doors heading home, off to play, or to meet proud parents on pick-up duty. Today was Chris' day on the class roster to tidy the chalk boards. Once a month each child had the task, amongst a few other chores in the class or school to complete. He dropped his school bag on top of the wooden school desk closest to the front board and smiled at his 4th grade teacher. Mr. Car smiled back to Chris before telling him to clean the smaller chalk board on the side wall first. The 28 year old man always spoke with a calm reassuring tone. Not once did Chris hear his teacher raise his voice or speak with a condescending expression. Chris sauntered over to the board as requested and began the task of cleaning the scribbles and days' notes away. Red chalk was always the hardest color to remove. His little arms scrubbed as hard as he could to remove the last of the defiant pigment from the black back-ground. The upper quarter has always proven hard to reach for the smaller students. Mr. Car knew to leave the children to work it out for themselves. Their minds had developed enough to figure a way to reach. This was Chris' second turn at staying behind for class duty. So long as it did not interfere with his Dad picking him up on Friday he would not mind at all. For Chris, there was not much reason to rush home. Instinctively Chris took a chair from a close by desk to achieve the required height. Following the same routine he used last time to clean the top section to a proud matte black finish. Reaching to the top still required Chris to extend one arm to an extreme while finding grip with his other hand. This motion did not go unnoticed from the perving eyes of his state funded educator. The 10 year olds T-shirt rode high up the boys thin frame showing off much of his side and back. Mr. Car took note of the boy's thin cloth pull-up blue shorts and the thread worn elastic waistband. A firm erection jolted to life in the pants of the artificially tanned teacher. Happy with his work, Chris replaced the chair behind the desk whence it came. His mind still dreaming of spending another weekend with his new Father continually clouded his thoughts. Brush, chalk and cleaning cloth in hand, the vacant boy walked over to the front board and commenced cleaning. Directly in front of the board, Mr. Car sat in his chair mimicking the act of marking class papers. Although they call it a chalk board, it is really a larger piece of treated fabric that moves on large rollers. This certainly makes it easier to clean than the chalk board on the side wall. The draw back for the kids, there is three times as much surface to wipe. As Chris came to an end of his cleaning duty, Mr. Car took pleasure seeing it had not take the handsome boy even half the time it normally took his students. The 10 minutes he needed to make his move on the little boy presented itself as a gift from the boy himself. Philip Car had many desires toward Chris. Thoughts of perversion are regular place in his over worked pedo mind. In 8 years of teaching 4th grade kids, Car managed to seduce hoards of the boys in his and other classes. His mind considers any boy from 7 to 11 years old hot for the taking. One other boy in class had already succumb to the woe and charm of Car. A very pretty 8 year old that came from the 3rd grade needing much help and tuition. On the second day of school, Steven Bryce fell to the advances of Car with no hesitation. Steven's parents were not the type to spend much time trying to help their son with his school work or behavior problems. The answer for them was with their family Doctor. A quick diagnosis and treatment, young Steven is added to the list of millions of children being drugged in order to help parents get on with their lives. Normally active and perhaps learning to cope with an attention problem the once outgoing boy became zombiefied. Given a boy lover's dream drug, the tyke did not have a chance fighting off the two main effects of the little blue pill. Moments after taking his first dose, Steven felt all his resistance fade away. He felt free and at peace. Soon after he zoned out, the second process kicked in leaving the boy completely unaware and unable to resist anything. His brain function slowed by 30%. Most of his motor functions remained intact, just a lot slower. Mr. And Mrs. Bryce meet with the school councilor to discuss the boy. They came to agree on allowing Steven more time to finish his work and one-on-one tutoring once a week with Mr. Car, his new teacher. Car was very please to see the drugs affect on Steven and welcomed him to class. The boy truly radiated 'pretty' sat at his desk listening intently. >From day one Car strut around the class searching for a moment to test his ground. Every step he took drove the nail of lust deeper, he wanted in the boys pants. His loins ached to get in the boys pants. During lessons he walked up and down the isles between the 28 students in his class. Steven's desk cornered the back row closet to the chalk board. Far left corner from of the teacher's desk, secluded from the view of the other kids provided they were working or looking forward. A couple of times that first day, Car managed his way beside Steven. Getting small thrills patting the boys back, feeling his soft hair and noticing a zero response from the well-doped child. Day 2 of the new school year, a bright sun shone from the sky. As per the school curriculum, the days final lesson consisted of two hours of grueling math. Most of the students groaned when the lesson started and continued complaining until Mr. Car cut the class 15 minutes before the end of day. They discussed the school's cleaning roster and the children learned of their days to help the janitorial staff as well as what day they should expect to clean the class chalk boards. "Starting tomorrow." Car added in a smooth tone that brought the class back attention just as the school bell clanged its releasing message. Car strolled up the left most isle towards Steven. Placing his hand on the boy's head, he motioned him to stay in his seat as the rest of the class emptied. "We have a one-on-one today my pretty little thing." The words perved into Steven's ear. The boy did not flinch or react in any way. He was obedient to anything and completely controllable. Car ushered the last of his students out of class. Calling out to Steven, he beckoned the boy to him. They entered study room 5, reserved by the school secretary at the request of the councilor. A small space approximately 3 meters square with two chairs and a small table. The heavy wooden door closed with a heavy metallic click. Steven stood in his place with a glazed mist coating his otherwise sweet eyes. In front of the boy sat his teacher with lust filled eyes. An aching erection prominent in his pants called for attention. "Steven, do you remember your parents telling you about our one-on-one sessions?" Mr. Car chose his words well and spoke in tone so sweet and alluring. "Yes." Steven spoke his first words of the school year. "I'm supposed to do be here with you." Steven enjoyed being with his teacher. This is the only person to show any interest in the boy. Although medicated, he was not dead. The child longed for any type of attention or affection. There was little intention in Philip's mind to do any real tutoring today. In reality, Car already planned how the next 20 minutes would transpire. First he reaches forward placing both hands on Steven's hips. Guiding him forward, he spoke in a hypnotic voice. "Steven I want you to concentrate on my voice and the questions I ask you." "Nothing else, you wont feel or remember anything other than the questions I ask you." "Is that understood?" Car reached to Steven's neck tilting the boys head back just slightly enough for him to stare at the joint where the wall met the ceiling. "Yes." A meek response wavered from the small child's red lips. "What is 8+8 Steven?" Car started his questioning as his hands slid down the boys back stopping on his butt. His little mind plays the question over slowly. He knows the answer but will take time to make the calculation and the more time to relay that to his mouth. Car can see the thought process working as he softly squeezes the firm boy ass. His grip tenses up to a kneading motion. His man cock sealed away behind boxers leaking precum onto his pubes. "Sixteen" Young Steven finally announces to his teacher. "Very good Steven." Car halts his finger work. "And did anything else happen?" Steven can not recall anything happening and so responds with a light shake of his head. "OK, lets carry on then." The pleased pedo sees how easily the seduction seems to progress. "10+9" Poses the next question. Car's fingers take grip on the boys zipper as it's lowered slowly. Still no answer to the question or sign of resistance. Car speeds up his assault on the 8 year old virgin. His jeans are unsnapped and the two halves of the material pulled away to reveal the hem of the boys shirt resting on a pair of superman underwear. Pedo teacher Car looks at Steven's face seeing a trance of thought gazed exactly where directed. A gentle lift of the shirt front reveals a smooth skinned stomach. Philip pulls at the elastic waistband of Steven's Super Hero underpants, stretching them downward. "Nineteen" Blurts the child. His summing took so long a startled Car's startled touch released the outstretched underoos. Even the slap of elastic is not enough to phase the child stood in the clutches of his assailant. "Nineteen, Correct." Car sighs aloud. "20-5" A third problem asked as the man lifts the little guy's shirt, having the boy hold it in place under his arms. Pedo teach tugs at the kids open jeans until they rest on knee caps. The sight of Steve stood there with the tiniest of bulges in his little undies almost has the perv blowing a load of hot man cum in his pants. Car hooks his fingers under the band of the boy's underwear dragging them down to settle on top of his fallen jeans. Steven stands still, calculating. In his mind seemingly unaware his 4th grade teacher is staring in awe of his 1 inch limp penis as it rests happily over his tiny scrotum. A smell of sweet 8 year old boy emanates from the heavenly package just inches from Car's face. His hands freely molest the tiny dick and balls hanging free for the taking. His foreskin slides back to expose a small head and his cocklet gets jerked lovingly. The powerful drugs prevent the prepubescent boy from hardening. Taking the boys little meat into the warmth of his mouth, Car sucks and nibbles on the little dickie enjoying the taste and trill of the conquest while releasing his man sized throbbing cock. Scooping a wad of precum from his enlarged mushroomed head, the pedo teacher fingers the goo into Steven's ass hole. While sucking the boys limp dick, Car finger fucks his back passage with realization there is almost no muscular resistance to his probing. An easy kiddy fuck this one is going to be. "Fifteen" Steven took longer to do the subtraction. His feeble stance remains unbroken. "Yes." Car eagerly encourages the youth. "Are you doing OK Steven?" Car searches for any sign of being busted. "I'm thirsty." Little Bryce asks tentatively. Redressing the boy as time comes to an end, Car sits Steven down in the chair. "I have a drink for you Steven." "A special drink for a special boy." Car's voice soothes the boy back into relaxation. "You have to use a straw, its one of those extra thick shakes." Car closes Steven's eye lids, stands beside the boy and turns the small child's head to face his dripping cock. A light pressure applied from his thumb on the boy's chin and the hard 7 inch cock slides along the boys velvet soft tongue into the warm suckling mouth. Steven sucks at the straw placed in his mouth and instantly tastes the juice. Pleased with the flavor he sucks harder enticing his teacher to lose control and pump 8 shots of hot sticky cum into the boy's mouth. Car sent young Steven Bryce on his way home that afternoon feeling safe in the knowledge Steven was not able to recall anything that just happened. As reality would have it, Steven did comprehend most of what transpired. Real time storage of the rape suppressed itself for many hours. As the weeks passed and the assaults continued, Steven's mind and body managed to compensate for the medication. Although his actions and responses were far slower than the average 8 year old boys, he became more aware of the people around him. He also started to look forward to the regular sexy afternoons he had with his teacher. The attention he always craved was right in front of him five days a week and he started to love every second of school. I just finished cleaning the front board when my teacher, Mr. Car, he's got a cool name. He swung around in his chair and clipped my side real hard with the arm of his chair. Man, a bolt of fire shot down my leg and I fell. Mr. Car caught me as I hit the floor. So much for him having any kind of quick reflexes in the event of an emergency. He did help me back up to my feet. Crap that hurt something fierce, I remember. The pain was throbbing in my leg and just under my right hip. Mr. Car said he was sorry and fussed over me. My hands were busy rubbing like mad to get the pain to go away, but no luck there. My teacher pulled away my hands saying he wanted to have a look at the damage. First he tried to pull up the leg of my shorts. Duh, he hit me way higher than that. Oh shit, I realized to see where I got hit I had to drop my shorts. Slowly I pulled the side of my shorts down to expose my right hip where I hurt the most. Mr. Car was gentle and I felt safe with him. He steadied me by locking my legs between his and slid my shorts down farther. Thankfully, my pecker was not on show. "That looks a little nastier than I though it would be." He looked shocked and that worried me. He took out some cream from his desk and started to rub it into my red swelling skin. Ooh, that felt good. I had to control myself or I was going to pop wood. One of his hands rubbed the cream and his other I felt touching up my butt. 'What the hell is going on here.' I thought to myself. The words were right on the tip of my tongue too. Mr. Car spoke first and I lost track of what I was going to say. "Well Chris, you not wearing underwear today?" His words asked my, but his voice was saying it's OK. I explained that I only wear underwear Friday, Saturday Sunday and Monday. Those are the days I stay with my Dad. Mom isn't too big on doing laundry so I don't always have a lot to choose from. I gave him a small version of life at home with Mom. While talking to my teacher I didn't even notice his hand that was patting my butt had slipped under the top of my shorts. Now here was me leg locked by my teacher and he was rubbing my ouch and my ass crack. All the time he rubbed the cream in, I listened as he reminded me that I was a year behind in school. Needed to keep up the grades and blab, blab, blab. OK, I stopped listening to what he was talking about. My head just nodded the routine kid agreement. Some time into the rough and painful foundling of my ass, I sprung a bone. Mr. C was looking straight at my tenting shorts. My boner was likely the only thing keeping my shorts up by this time. "Is the pain any better, my little soldier?" He never even looked away from my mid section. "Well my butt hurts a lot now." My intention was for him to stop squeezing my ass cheeks so hard. I like when Dad feels my ass, damn he is nice and gentle. Thank goodness, Mr. C. took his hand off my butt. I could feel the blood returning with heat. Then, woo, I was shocked. He took more cream from the tube to apply to my bruise. But oh no, it didn't go there. He stuck his finger straight up my hole frigging my ass. Well, if my stiffy was about to go down, it sure found new life. I was like a nail. So fast did my dick shoot back up it popped right out the top of my shorts. Mr. C. helped my shorts down a little more and he started to play with my 2 inch rocket. You know I have had a lot of sex with my Dad, and a few other guys. I think I started most of it. This time was way different. This time a man started the come-on. My teacher, and it was hot enough top make me want more. His pants bulged big time. I knew he had an erection too. While I was looking at his crotch and enjoying the finger fuck, he managed to take out a cell phone and started to snap pictures of my woody. Even my ass got a picture with his finger in my hole. The part that turned me off was the picture taking. I pulled his hand away from my butt and pulled up my shorts. I took off after thanking him for looking after my bruise. He sat in his chair with a tent in his pants when I pushed my way through the class room door. Our caretaker stood outside the door mopping the hall, but I was sure he was to short to have seen anything from the little window in the door. That night, about 7pm I called Dad. We look forward to chatting once or twice a week on the phone. It helps keep me sane until Friday. Dad must have picked up on something in my voice. He was asking what is wrong did someone pick on me, did I get in a fight. All the usual Parent type questions. He even told me he would come over if I needed him to take care of anyone for me. I told him, 'no, I can handle it.' Then he told me, I do not have to handle it, he is the Dad and he will take the responsibility of fixing what ever is wrong. "Dad, I can deal with it." "And Dad, It sure makes me happy to know your there when I cant."