Hypocrites with Power

By Rob Loveboy

Edits by James FitzHugh

&

Len Homber

(all copyrights reserved)

Chapter Six

 

The Wrath of Power & Evil!

 

Sam Melrose found his brother-in-law doing laps in the sunken swimming pool. When Randall noticed Sam coming in the backyard gate, he climbed out of the water. Randall was naked when he greeted his sister’s husband mildly surprised to see him.

“Is something wrong, Sammy?” he asked as he dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist.

Sam gawked at the well built attorney’s body. It was the first time he’d ever seen Randall completely naked. He had noticed the promising basket in the man’s shorts when he and his family were over for BBQ’s. His sister scored well. Sam knew the man was screwing around with women every chance he got … some men liked to boast about their conquests among their peers and Randall was certainly one of those as was Mike Wilson.

“I need my phone back. Cathy, and I are taking Nicky up to Water-World Park in Kentsville overnight and I don’t want to drive all that way without my phone in case of an emergency.” he lied.

“Sure … no problem.” replied Randall. “I’ve uploaded all the dirt on the governor's mansion already, Sammy. Those guys are really sick fuckers, I’ll tell ya!” he said with a disgusted look on his face. We are going to put those pedos in the slammer for a long time, Sammy.

Sam was rattled that Randall had already uploaded the evidence. Williams wouldn’t be pleased. “I’ve been thinking,” he said. “I don’t really want to get involved and would prefer that we just drop the whole issue. Matter of fact, I want to get as far away from that place as I can and I’m ready to take on that PI work you say is mine if and when I open my own agency.”

Randall tried to reason, “Sammy, you are a key witness --you shot the video and took the pictures. I need you to help me help those boys from St. Vladimir's Orphanage who are being sexually molested! I guarantee we’ll …”

Guarantee what, Randall? he snapped. “Guarantee that we’ll be able to convict some of the most powerful men in the country?”

Over the years. Randall had come to know his brother-in-law well. His gut-feeling was that someone had visited Sammy and scared him. “Has anybody approached you, Sammy? Ya know, maybe told you to keep your mouth shut?”

“No.” he lied. “I just don’t want to take the chance … ya know. I have to consider what’s best for Cathy and Nicky’s sake and well being.”

“Randall was persistent. “Sam, if someone has threatened you and your family … I need to know about it so as I can protect you!”

“Just get me my phone, Randall.” Sam asked in a somewhat subdued voice. “I’m out of this mess and that’s all there is too it!”

“I’ll fucking well subpoena you into court if I have too! You know that don’t you? Even as a hostile witness I’ll be able to tear you apart for the truth.” Randall was as angry as he'd ever been. Once more he asked, “WHO’S pressuring you, Sammy? YOU have to tell me!” Randall screamed taking Sam by the collar and pushing him violently against the house. “Think about your son Nicky … he might not ever end up at St. Vladimir, but the other one who is suspected of pimping to the governor might just recruit the likes of Nicky off the street for men to FUCK and abuse!”

Sammy began to cry. He knew that Randall made sense … the other guy that delivered and picked up boys … Danny …. Pauly … Jamie! He was having a hard time remembering but then it came to him. Jamie Smith, he claimed his name to be at the security gate was  the man given full security clearance 24/7. The guy always had boys with him for the governor’s monthly retreat weekends … and sometimes randomly on other weekends. It wasn’t his problem.

Randall’s towel had slipped off his hips and fell to the floor as he held Sam against the wall berating him. Even with his head bowed in shame Sam admired the man’s cock. Staring down at it he was wishing he could just slide down the wall to his knees and be subservient rather than fearful as he was of the unknown. He knew that it was into the unknown that he should go to expose these men who liked boys but it was what scared him most. Maybe, he tried reasoning, those boys liked what they were doing. He knew he would have at that age living in frustration.

Sam shoved Randall away with all his might stunning the man. “Leave me alone, Randall, and get my fucking phone.” he yelled. Do whatever you wish with the evidence, just leave me out of it. This fuckin mess is so much bigger than you are my friend … watch your back closely!

*  *  *

If the governor had learned anything at all from his confrontation with Mike Wilson, it was to move the sex orgies from the parlor to the games room in the basement where no windows existed. The governor had his maintenance man replace the door handle so that the door to the only passage way down could be locked. Jacob always found the large expanse of the nicely decorated room chilly and musty. The constant hum of the mansion’s mechanical machinery running behind the wall in the next unfinished cement space was annoying.

The only reason he ever went down there was to lock up boys in the spare room with gym mats scattered about after they’d overdosed on drugs and alcohol and need a timeout to come down. While it didn’t happen often, it did happen. The larger the party, the more casualties and it was mostly the new boys experimenting with drugs for the first time. It likely to be cocaine, however, there was also ecstasy, cannabis, and heavier intravenous chemical drugs for the street trash addicts Jamie usually brought over. A member of the governor’s boys’ club was a doctor who assessed and monitored each case. A few times Jamie would be called to come get a teenager who needed medical attention at a hospital. Thank god the boys of St. Vladimir's weren’t the street junkies and stuck to cocaine, ecstasy and pot.

However, accidents still happened. No adult knew exactly how much coke a boy had ingested, but everyone knew that a boy high on it would fuck like a banshee so they would smear more powder in their rectums which was quickly absorbed into the system. Even some of the younger men used the get-high, get horny quick method. Added to this, of course, was ample Viagra to ensure one and all remained in an excited state ... even if they were long fucked out. Only one rule applied, boys never refused men in an orgy environment, and any man’s favorite boy-toy was fair game for others to use at will.

That particular Saturday night he’d hosted well over 20 men and twenty-five boys in the age range of 11 to sixteen. Jacob never told the men involved about the extortion attempt made the night before. He felt there was no reason to cause them anxiety if the unpleasant situation could be averted by Peter Wilson, his loyal pit bull.

There must have been a full moon that night. The men were raunchier than usual. The rookie boys were gang banged from both ends and had cocaine-basted rectums; they felt no pain after a short while. Other men gave and received blowjobs, licked assholes and fisted boys who screamed out in pain; however their screams were only drowned out by other boys’ screams. The room would grow silent before too long after the drugs took effect, only sobs could be heard over the chorus of skin to skin slaps, oral slurping, and groans of pleasure. The room smelled like shit, cum and body odor, with a hint of vomit.

The orgies would go on as long as 3 or four in the morning, although men could take a boy to his room at will after midnight. The wee hours often saw the younger men still partying with the older teens because the youngsters had been claimed and bedded first. Rocky and Vincent, the television series teen idols, as well as, an intern doctor, a movie star who had a close resemblance to Leonardo DiCaprio and a couple of richy-rich sons of powerful men all enjoyed what was left over. They made the boys dance and have sex with each other until they themselves were recharged for more sexual action. Even the kids in the drug-tank room were brought out for some fun comatose or not.

*  *  *

Without delay, Sam called Peter and relayed the bad news that his brother-in-law had uploaded the evidence from his cell phone and was set on a witch hunt. No, he didn’t know if the attorney had conferred with any other authority.

Peter hated his job sometimes. His salary was six-digit, he drove a new leased car of his choice every three years, however there were times when he really had to earn his keep. Now was one of those times. He felt a visit to Attorney Randall Cleaver wouldn’t do any good to convince the man to back off with any amount of bribe money.

Peter called a long time associate, Jeremy Moore, aka, “Houdini,” for his ability of getting into secured places and stealing whatever his client desired. In Peter’s case, it was Cleaver’s computer hard drive. The short notice cost him an additional five-grand on top of the twenty to pull off the job. Houdini would have to do some homework on the layout of the home and its alarm system.

Peter knew what Jeremy would ask for first and the little sign mounted to the house read, ‘Homes by Premium Builders,’ and a snapshot of the home’s exterior uploaded to Jeremy gave the thief a great deal of valuable information. Within the hour he had the floor plans of the Tudor style home off the company’s website. To his good fortune, the home was sold with a ‘Protech’ alarm system wired in. There was always the possibility that the owners had changed the service provider, which he doubted. To the average Joe, alarm systems were all the same. Little did they know Protech was a bottom of the barrel security system easily tampered with.

At two AM, Peter had the hard drive hooked to his own monitor in his home office and another thousand dollars had convicted felon hacker Helen Reed in the wings waiting to remotely try and override passwords. Voila! Peter had access, found what he was looking for … along with a file containing hundreds of kiddie porn flicks and videos of girls as young as six with men and boys. Everyone had their dirty little secrets if you looked deep enough. Attorney at Law Randall Cleaver specializing in juvenile law was no different than your average man seeking out under-age porn.

As many internet users do, Cleaver never logged-off his email accounts. Two accounts appeared, one being his personal that Peter was happy to see the man had not forwarded any files to anywhere in the last few days. The second account, titled Randy-Randall was interesting viewing indeed. As well as the chat room site for pedos talking about little girls and boys and sharing their experiences. One user kept posting his website address and for $29.99 at exactly 4am viewers could watch him live having sex with his ten year-old granddaughter and twelve year-old grandson.

The pay dirt was a file share cloud site where the good lawyer housed hundreds of vids and pics to share for more of the illegal material. Peter had seen enough, he had enough evidence against the man to suffice a successful deal.

Peter stayed up later to watch teen boys being sucked and fucking little girls. His favorite, the one that made him cum violently, was an orgy scene of teen-boys of all ages doing each other as well as little girls. He made a copy for himself onto a memory stick and locked it away in a safe. Yes, we all have our secrets.

* * *

Jamie’s boy business was booming. He couldn’t meet supply and demand. He had printed up a basic business card with only his name and email address. He’d given them to the girls on the stroll to pass on should any man ask where to find a boy. They simply wrote their name on the back of the card before giving it to the John and Jamie would gather those cards and give each girl $30 as a finder’s fee. He was true to his word and was soon trusted, sometimes he tossed in a flap of cocaine as a bonus. It was amazing how many men were seeking boys and willing to pay anything for them. It wasn’t word of mouth among the men in his clientele, far from it. They were closeted boy-lovers. It was the hooker stroll referrals that brought in the business.

However, Jamie got greedy. He wasn’t supplying quality like he used to. It became quantity which was  made up of young crack heads and junkie street trash. Sadly, his business began to suffer. Too many men ran into problems with their whore-boys stealing or being unresponsive sexually. Jamie had to figure out a way of partnering with Father Murphy.

*  *  *

Meanwhile, Father Murphy was enjoying a lucrative business. Not only was he supplying the governor’s mansion, but also the spin-off from that. Men contacted him directly, certainly not in droves, but he received steady requests for boys while they were in town, as well as, from  locals seeking a night of sinful bliss in a motel.

Father Murphy had a problem. He was a cokehead that grew into an addiction far beyond all common sense for a priest. And, to make matters worse, his desire for young boys grown right along with his chemical dependency. Murphy spearheaded the orphanages successful ‘Home for a Weekend’ program where good Samaritans took children into their homes for weekends and at Christmas, Easter and other occasions.

Murphy encouraged homosexuality within the dorms. It was a nighttime sextravaganza as the older, randy boys teaching younger ones a new way of life during their stay at St Vladimir. He had his choice of a boy or two in his bed every night, as did the other priests who turned a blind eye to Murphy’s sideline business or who were naive enough not to see through the ‘Home for a Weekend’ program. Fortunately, many were actually legitimate families taking in a boy out of compassion.

 

 to be continued . . .

 

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