Disclaimer: This story has sexual content, if this offends you: Bye, bye. Even worse it has gay themes and gay sex between two minors, and an adult and a minor, if this offends you please find another story. Sex is not the major topic of this story. If you are looking for a pure adult erotic story try another one on this site, there are some good ones. If erotic stories are banned where you live, leave this site immediately before you are arrested (you were warned), or if you are deemed to be underage by your government and two young to read this then you should leave now (in either case go look up the names of these people and be sure to vote against them when you are old enough).
This story is fiction. That means I made it up. As the author I may make real life problems disappear with a sentence or two. If you want real life read the newspaper. I may actually have a point or two to make other than life can suck.
Anyway, if you think you recognize yourself or anyone you know it is pure chance, go by a lottery ticket this could be your lucky day.
Copyright 2006: str8mayb –– that means the story is copyrighted by me in 2006. Do not re-post without my written permission.
There is also sexual child abuse in this story. It is not described in detail. It is in no way meant as a turn on but as an explanation and motivation to the characters. The author is appalled by this and in absolutely no way condones pedophilia or abuse. Where possible the guilty do suffer, one of the perks of fiction, the bad guys lose. Although this is posted in Adult – Youth do not expect hot sex. There are some mild scenes and talk. There are however some fairly graphic explorations between the boys.
I hope you enjoy. E-mail to email@example.com E-mail lets us writers know if what we are doing is worth further posting.
Special thanks to my favorite authors for their encouragement; Fritz, Josh Aterovis, Cole Parker, Scribe1971, Miguel Sanchez, Darkstar, and Radio Rancher (order above is not by rank but by the order I discovered them, so don’t get angry guys). Radio Rancher has offered to be editor and I have very gratefully accepted.
My alarm went off at 4:30, and I had trouble moving to turn it off. I was suddenly wide-awake, and realized I was the acting mattress for two ten-year-olds. As I finally freed myself enough to shut off the alarm, the two imps began to wake up also. I put on my sternest voice, and ordered them up and out, in a pretty good drill sergeant imitation.
Soon the boys were dressed and on their way to meet their chores, and new friends. I took a nice long hot shower, and was surprised to find James waiting for me in my bedroom. “With your approval, sir, I’ve been promoted to valet.”
“Promoted? Well, just what does a valet do?” I asked.
“Well, sir, I am in charge of your personal things. Such as assisting in your clothing each day, being sure it is all properly cleaned and mended if necessary. Keep your calendar and schedule appointments and in general be your personal secretary.” The look on James face was showing a great deal of anxiety, he was afraid I would reject him.
“Good. I sure can use some help. Do you have an office or something?” I asked as I looked for my clothes that were no longer on the end of my bed.
“Not exactly.” He indicated a door next to the bathroom I thought was a closet. He led the way into what I found was called the dressing room. My clothes were laid out neatly, ready for me to put on. He picked up my briefs, and held them for me to step into.
“Uhh, James, This is, well, kind of strange for me.” I remarked.
“Yes, sir. We will get used to it,” was his reply.
I decided if I didn’t want to hold this towel all-day I’d better go along. I stepped into the underwear and he pulled them up for me. His gaze stayed on my feet. I grabbed the briefs just in time before the elastic band pulled my balls off. “James, I think I better dress myself for awhile. You can get the clothes out, but I’ll put them on. If I have trouble, I’ll let you know.”
“As you wish, sir.”
“Another thing, when we are alone, you would make me feel a lot better if you stopped with all the sirs. My name is Tom. If we are working together, it will be best. Now, James, I need to get in touch with Mr. Clemets and Mrs. Thompson, as soon as possible this morning. I also need to get a list of all employees here, their home addresses, and their dependents.”
“Yes, sir. Aahh sorry, Tom.”
“That’s better, Jim.” He smiled at my using his more casual name.
“I’ll get on the phone and see what I can arrange. It’s almost 7:30, your breakfast will be waiting.”
In the hall outside the dinning room, my boys were waiting for me. “Well how are my two stall muckers?”
Jimmy looked at me with an accusing glare, “We had to shovel horse shit!” Neal elbowed him. “Well, we did.”
“That’s why they call it ‘muck’,” I calmly replied. I walked past them, and into the dinning room. On the sideboard were platters with enough food to feed a Boy Scout Troop. I served myself a nice plate of bacon, eggs and toast. I sat down and watched the boys load their plates. I think they each had their own weight on each plate. When they sat down, I stopped them from digging in. “Boys, we need to give thanks before we eat.” Neal bowed his head, but Jimmy looked at me funny.
“Thank you.” He said after thinking about it. Neal giggled. And I kicked him under the table.
“Not me, Jimmy. We need to thank God.” I said.
“Their ain’t no God,” he replied.
“I know you may not think so right now, but something pretty powerful guided me to find you and Neal.” I bowed my head and prayed, “Thank you Lord, for all you have provided for us. Help us do your will, Amen.” I raised my head. Neal said, “Amen” Jimmy just shook his head and dug into his food.
Before they went back to the barn, I reminded the boys that they had a busy afternoon. Then they were out for their first riding lesson.
When I returned to my office, and Jim got Mr. Clemets on the phone, I gave him the details Jimmy gave me last night. He said now his private investigator had what he needed. I spent the rest of the morning organizing my office, and familiarizing myself with the accounts of the estate. At noon I returned to the dining room.
I had just reached my chair, when the sound of running, laughing boys filled the hallway. They came, racing through the door, and didn’t stop until they ran into me. I had to laugh as they both were trying to tell me about their first horse encounter. Once they ran out of steam and had my assurance that they could ride again the next day, we settled down to lunch. When we were finished, I informed the boys that they smelled like a horse, and needed a bath before Mrs. Thompson arrived.
I chased the boys upstairs, with threats of scrub-brushes and water hoses. After much splashing and giggling, my two wet rats emerged, toweling themselves off. Jim entered at this point to tell me Mrs. Thompson had arrived. I told the boys to get dressed, and come to the library. I had Jim stay and be sure they didn’t play too much, and I went down to meet Mrs. Thompson.
Mrs. Thompson was pacing nervously when I entered. “Hi,” I said.
“Oh, ah, hi. Where are the boys?” she asked.
“They’ll be along soon. I made them take a shower. They had mucked horse stalls and had their first riding lesson, and the horses smelled better then they did.” I replied.
“Oh, my, you are such a terrible man. However my nose thanks you. Dr. Turnman’s report has come in. The abuse history is documented as being before your custody. Also he wanted me to be sure and let you know, that by the grace of God, both boys are negative on the STDs and can stop the antibiotics. He does recommend an AIDS test every six months, for a couple of years, just to be safe.” She paused and took a deep breath, “I know it’s not fair of me, but I have a problem that I thought you might help me with. I have a twelve-year-old that has been from one foster home to another. He is gay, and when the foster parents find out, they reject him. He is becoming very depressed, and I’m afraid he will either become suicidal or a real behavior problem.”
“I’d like to meet him before making a decision. He is older than the other two, so I’m not sure that will be a problem.” I thoughtfully replied.
“Great! He is out in my car.”
I filled Mrs. Thompson in on Jimmy, and just then Neal and Jimmy appeared. I left her to do her interview with them.
I went outside, and didn’t see him at first. As I approached the car, I saw the top of his head. He was bent over and his shoulders were shaking. He was crying. I walked up to his side of the car. “Really sucks, huh?”
“People can be so stupid sometimes.”
“I got an empty room you could stay in. I won’t kick you out because you’re gay. I just have a few rules. Help with chores, do your best in school, and don’t lie to me. As far as the gay thing goes, I have two other boys, and you have to let them decide if they want to do things. No one can force anyone to do something they don’t want to do.”
“You gay?” he asked in a shaky voice.
“No, but probably bi. I’ve done stuff with boys, when I was your age, and really liked it, but then when I was about twenty I had a girlfriend, and we did stuff I really liked too. I haven’t had any relationships in the last couple of years.”
He turned then and looked at me. He had short brown hair and brown eyes. “I only did sex stuff with one boy. We got caught by his dad, and then he called me a fag, and called Mrs. Thompson to come and get me. Each family they have put me with eventually finds out somehow, and I’m thrown out again. I guess I’m not very lovable anymore.” He started to cry again silently.
I opened the door and picked him up. He seemed awfully small for a twelve-year-old. He wrapped his arms around my neck, and held on like his life depended on it. Maybe it did. I know my heart was stolen by this poor lad. I carried him inside and upstairs to the suite. I pointed out Neal’s room, and Jimmy’s room, and asked him which room he wanted. He asked where mine was. I set him down, and pointed to the door into my rooms. He nodded and walked down the hall looking into each room. He stopped at the last room on the right.
“This one. I don’t want to crowd your sons, and I don’t want you or them to think I’m going to corrupt them by being too close. Is that okay?” There was hope in his plea.
I walked down to the room. “May I come into your room?”
“It’s your room.” I said. “Nobody can go in without your approval. It’s a thing called ‘privacy’. If you are in here with the door closed, anybody who wants you knocks and waits for you to respond.”
“Oh, yeah. Like that works.”
“It does here. Now I’m Tom Richards. Who are you?” I asked.
“erbt frmn bt thd” he mumbled.
I considered this for a moment, he hadn’t mumbled before. “Ah, I see. I had a friend in school who hated the first day, because the teacher always called his first name, Oglethorpe. He would ask to be called Ollie, and in a week or so we would forget that awful name. The bullies would use it like a weapon on him. I got in some pretty good fights over that name. Am I in for more black-eyes?
“I guess. My name is worse all three of them, Hubert Freemont Butt, III.”
“Oh, God! The third?”
“Okay, what would you like to be called?” I asked.
“Nobody ever asked before.”
“How about Bert?” I suggested.
“Bert Butt, are you kidding?” he replied
“I see your point. Monty?”
“That might work. Let’s try that.”
“Okay, Monty. Let’s go back downstairs and tell Mrs. Thompson that you are mine now, and you can meet the other two. Welcome home Monty.” He grabbed me around the waist and gave me a huge hug.
When we got to the Library, the boys were bragging about their expertise on horseback. Mrs. Thompson was grinning at them. “One lesson and they think they were born in the saddle.”
Protests, as expected, then they noticed Monty. They broke off and stared at him. I felt him tense next to me. “Boys, this is Monty. He is joining us. Monty, this is Neal and Jimmy. If Mrs. Thompson is through, why don’t you show Monty around and be back for dinner.”
“I’m done with them. Go on boys and have some fun.” Mrs. Thompson put some papers in her briefcase.
The boys disappeared, and the sound of their chatter faded quickly. “Monty? Is that what Hubert told you?”
“No, we came up with that. The poor kid cringes at his real names. What do we do now?” I asked.
“The first thing is to get you filed as his foster parent, which is done except for your signature, since we have you registered for Jimmy. Then we get his benefits reassigned and…” She began.
I cut her off, “How long for adoption?”
“But, you just met him.” She said.
“Yes, and he will never feel safe and secure in a ‘temporary’ foster home. He has been kicked around too much. Go ahead and start on the adoption. I think we’ll all get along great.”
Mrs. Thompson smiled at me. “I don’t know where you hide your wings, but you sure are an angel.”
I laughed, “Only when I’m not being a devil.”
“That poor boy has really been through a tough time. He’s been in the system about six years. He had several near adoptions, when he was little, but after they turn eight, the adoption rate drops to almost zero. Then that incident, and he has changed foster homes every couple of months.”
“How long?” I asked.
“About three years ago. And to tell you the truth, I think it was all the other boy’s idea. He got into trouble at school with some younger boys. His father however, has always found Hubert’s new foster home, and scared them into removing him. That was the other thing I wanted to warn you about. He will probably be calling on you in a couple of weeks.”
“Thanks for the warning. I’ll be looking forward to it.” I was already planning how to deal with the creep.
It is amazing; I had thought another boy would enter the story about two chapters from now. Sometimes it just doesn’t happen as we 'all knowing authors' have planned. I’m going to have a talk to Neal; I think he is behind this. He comes into my head when I’m asleep, and plants these ideas. I may have to stay up one night and catch him.
Sorry this chapter is kind of short but it really didn't go where I planned. Remember I live for mail! firstname.lastname@example.org Also the story is posted on www.paddedroom.us
Well, get used to it, this type of thing happens all the time, and the better your characters are the more often it happens. They eventually take over completely, and all you do is just write it down for them, as they tell you the story. I love my guys, and I always listen to them. The reason is that if I write something different, they just do what they want anyway. I tried to write a chapter or two without listening to them and it just plain fell apart and wouldn't work, so I finally gave up and let them write it for me, and it started working again.
What ever you do, don't think for a minute that you are the one in charge. You will find that you are not.
Ouch. Dell, stop that, I'm just explaining things to Tom. I figure, the sooner he figures it out the better off he will be. I learned it, and I think it will be easier for him to hear it from me, than to have to find out for himself.
Guys, stop throwing the paper wads at me. You know I love you. Come on let me finish this and I will go get some burgers for supper. God they can eat enough for an army. Ouch. It's true. Ok I give up. See you next time.