Date: Mon, 08 Aug 2011 16:34:37 +0000 From: Jon Kent Subject: OSCAR MY LOVE Part 9 Gay Male Youth Adult DISCLAIMER Everyone should accept the laws of his country, reserving the right to strive democratically to change those he disagrees with. Therefore, if the laws where you live say that you should NOT be reading stories like these, you are legally obliged to leave now and read no further. It does not matter if these stories are fiction, made-up, only written to entertain, instruct, engage, and inform. If for any reason, the law where you live says you are NOT allowed to read them, you have to go. So off you go. Live a healthy and happy life, and come back, if you want to, when your laws say. And remember: these are only stories. They are made-up. They did not happen. And the writer does not believe they should happen. The first responsibility of adults is to protect children and their innocence. It doesn't mean some adults won't enjoy reading stories like this, but it doesn't mean they should go out and do things like this. Who knows? Maybe reading stories like this will actually stop them going out and doing these things. Part 9 I'm not sure when Oscar discovered gay teen sites. I'm not sure when he set up MSN and Skype. And I have no idea when he began 'performing' for perverts around the world. I'm smiling at my use of the word 'pervert' because I know that I would happily sit in front of a screen watching a beautiful 10-year-old fuck himself with a home-made dildo as I tried to keep it going before my cum splashed its way messily over the keyboard. A beautiful, pre-pubescent boy pleasuring himself for your pleasure - would you sit and watch that? Like many modern computer-savvy kids, especially boys, Oscar knew more than I did about the magical mysteries of cyber space. I wasn't even aware he could set up a separate account on my computer of which I was completely unaware. Later, when I mentioned this to him, he protested: "But, Uncle Tom, everyone has their own account. And it's private. I wouldn't look into your area without your permission. That's invasion of privacy." At the time, Oscar's middle finger was trying to locate my prostate - with my full permission. I discovered what was going on by accident. When it comes to boys, parents find out most things by accident. It is not that boys try to keep secrets from their parents; it's just that they feel much of their lives has nothing to do with adults in general and their parents in particular. From around the age of 11 onwards, the real lives of boys take place in their heads, in their bedrooms, and in the company of their peers. Watch a group of boys as they come out of school at 3.30. Watch them as they change into their street gear. Watch them as they meet up with their friends in pre-designated meeting places. Within half an hour, they are different creatures entirely, and, if one did not know better, one would imagine they were feral pack animals, set on carrying out as much mayhem as they can. Not true. Their aim is not mischief, though recklessness, can lead them into it; they are pack puppies, playing follow-my-leader, out to find excitement or create it when they cannot find it ready-made. I've no idea how I broke Oscar's password. I was merely fiddling around trying to remember my own password which does begin with OSCAR... when an entirely new planet swam into my ken, and I sat silent, staring at the Pacific as Oscar's private world - OSCARSWORLD - opened up to me. Folders neatly organised: 001PICS - 002VIDS - 003STORIES - 004CHATS. CHAT 31 DAN69 Hi, Oscar. You're looking hot, Had a good day at school. OSCAR Hi, Dan. Yeh, not bad. U? DAN69 Pretty good. Some of the customers are dumb shits, but as long as they pay on time, I don't give a fuck. OSCAR Sorry 'bout yesterday. Uncle came home a bit early. Just got off in time. DAN69 No worries. I saved it for this session. OSCAR You didn't cum then? DAN69 Nope. No point cumming if I'm not looking at you. I like to see your sweet little mouth when I'm cumming Even better is when I'm staring your cute little hole. OSCAR Wanna see it again? DAN69 No hurry. When's your uncle getting home? OSCAR 'Bout 5'clock. What you want me to do first? DAN69 That's my boy. Stand up. Pull your school shirt out. Rub your fingers over the front of your trousers. I want to see that bulge. I want to see your stiffy outlined under those flannels. That's it. Take your time. OSCAR Like that? DAN69 Yeh, just like that. Get closer to the cam. I want to kiss you right there. And tell me what you do to your Uncle again. That sounds really hot. (I leave this out. Frankly I'm too embarrassed to relate Oscar's description of what we do in the privacy and intimacy of our love-making.) DAN69 Shit, your uncle's a lucky bastard, Oscbaby. Now work your trousers and underpants down your stomach. But don't let me see you dick, not yet. Yeh, that's it. Down a bit more. Right there. Get closer to the cam again. My God, your skin is so beautiful. Stop giggling. I really mean it. OSCAR What would you like to do? DAN69 I wanna lick and kiss your tummy. Suck your belly button. Push down those undies with my tongue. Lick the head of your sweet little dick. For fuck's sake, Oscar, push them down to your knees. OSCAR Look the way it jumps up! DAN69 Work your foreskin back. Yeh, like that. Shit, I want my lips round you. Get those fucking things off. OSCAR Give me a min. Got get my shoes off first. Hold on. I'm gonna sit on the couch and get this school shit off. DAN69 Fuck it. Every time I see you I can't believe you're for real. You're so f-u-c-k-i-n-g gorgeous. OSCAR Dan... can you put your cam on, please? You can keep your clothes on. I just wanna see you. DAN69 Sorry, kid. No can do. I'm on my work laptop. No cam. OSCAR You're always on your work laptop. How old are you really? I don't care. Just want to know. DAN69 Turn round. Bend over. Lift your shirt. Pull your cheeks open. Finger that sweet little hole of yours. And when I tell you, go get that dildo. The big one. (If I don't go any further, it's pure embarrassment. And also because the scripts in the end became repetitive. There's only so many things a boy can do with his body when limited to a camshow.) I learned later that the term for Oscar is 'cam whore. Oscar loved performing on cam. There were few things he wouldn't do if asked politely or persistently enough. To his credit, he refused to take a shit on cam. I was surprised by the number of men - I'm assuming they were all men - desperate to a close-up of a ten-year-old boy's anus as shit made its exit. Lots more wanted to see Oscar pee - he duly obliged - though only a minority expressed a desire for the boy to piss directly in their gulping mouths. I must admit reading the scripts opened up a whole new world of sexual possibilities, but many of them I wouldn't touch with a barge pole; these were mainly of the sado-masochistic variety, which had limited appeal for me. (Oh yeh? And you with little Jack up to his elbow inside of you last Tuesday.) What did intrigue me was the offers of reciprocal sex-shows 'starring' men and little boys - a variation of 'you show me yours, and I'll show you mine' I hadn't tho0ught of. When I tackled Oscar about this, he was his usual forthright self. "Would you do it, Uncle Tom? Would you? I would... but only with you?" There's a note of excitement in the boy's voice that takes me by surprise. Only fifteen minutes ago, I'd been giving him hell about the whole cam/chat business, and here he was trying to persuade me into taking part with him. First things first. "Now many men have you been on cam with?" I ask. "Mmmm... do you mean one at a time or when there's a crowd of them?" "A crowd of them?!" I'm horrified. "Do you mean more than one man can watch you at a time?" "Yeh, lots." Oscar sighs. "You don't know much, do you?" "Never mind how much I know. How many?" "Well, one afternoon on Tiny Chat I had 22 viewers." "Tiny Chat? Viewers." "Yeh." He sounds a little exasperated. "Tiny Chat is one of them sites where anyone, everyone can just visit and open up their cam. We all do it. But I set up my room - chat room - and then invite viewers. Nobody can watch if they're not invited." The learning curve is steep but I'm getting there. "On Blog TV you can get hundreds of viewers." "Hundreds!" "Yeh, but they're very strict there. You get booted off if you try any rude stuff. The girls get most viewers 'cos they show half their tits, and roll round on the carpet, and do handstands and stuff. Just think of all them boys - and pervs - sitting wanking, watching them." He giggles, then goes on. "But things like Skype is much better for one-to-one. The picture quality is a lot better and it's really private." "And you know some guys - with boys, I mean - who would...?" I don't know how to finish the sentence. I don't try. "Oh, yeh, it's easy." He thinks. "What kinda boy you want? I mean, what age? Want a black boy?" I'm flustered. "Mmmm... I'll leave all that to you." "What day is it?" The question is addressed to himself. "Friday. Good. I'm staying here this weekend. That makes it easier. What's time now. Five. Mum won't be here for an hour. Let me show you some of the vids I collected. Some of them you won't believe. Some of them are really... dirty." Saturday evening, couch pulled up close to the computer and web cam, both of us in our bathrobes, mine silk, Oscar's a fetching blue, both naked beneath, Oscar perched on my lap, adjusting himself to make room for my hard cock between his buttocks. He is absorbed in rapping the keys. Suddenly they are there on the screen, a man and a boy, gazing back at us. "Hi, there," comes a voice. The accent is antipodean, Australia or New Zealand, I'm not certain. "I'm Ray, and this is Timmy." A small boy raises his hand and waves tentatively back. They are both naked. Ray seated on a what looks like a high-seated green armchair, the boy Timmy seated on the man's knees. "Hi, there," smiles Oscar, waving back. "I'm Mikey, and this is my dad Adam." "You new to this?" asks Ray. Oscar nods. "Well, we'd better show you. Here's a little tour to get started. Ray lifts Timmy and balances him on his knees. The boy stands there precariously, his belly, hips, and genital region filling our screen. "As you can see," says Ray, "Timmy is a well-built boy for his age. Look at that little pot belly. Look at his sweet little button. And look there, not a single pub, and not likely to be for some time." Ray laughs while he speaks; already he sounds like some demented commentator at a dog show. "Watch how he gets hard, really quick." Nicotined fingers that seem huge in comparison with Timmy's small-boy penis begin to play with the child's cock and balls. "Not much there yet," says Ray, "but watch," and we do as the blood pumps into the boys penis, and we watch it swell from all of two inches soft to three inches erect. "Not much in the way of balls yet," (Timmy's balls are little acorns in a slightly wrinkled sac.) "so don't expect much in the way of cum. In fact, don't expect any, but I'll make up for that when I rub mine all over him." That laugh again. "Really sweet on this side, too," Ray continues as he turns the boy round to give us a full-screen view of his buttocks. The nicotined- fingers part the cheeks, and the boy is pushed forward so that the immediate area his anus fills the screen. "Sweet ain't it? And well broken in to." The bruising round the boy's hole is obvious, and the reason becomes clear as the tip of Ray's middle finger brings to stroke the opening. "Look, guys, no lube needed. I'm beginning to think Timmy likes it this way - doncha, kiddo?" The finger tip corkscrews it way into the boys hole that opens up like a tiny flower. From the loudspeakers comes the unmistakable sound of whimpering. "Aw, for Chrissake, you've had a lot more than that up inside you, you little faggot." That's to Timmy. To us it's, "Ain't amazing how easy the stretch when you keep at it?" Suddenly there's a flurry of flesh on the screens and... Timmy is being held upside down. Naked, he is facing a naked Ray. The boy's face and mouth dangle above a belly thick with black hair, a huge pubic bush, and gnarled, veined shaft of flesh topped with a head that looks like a small peach. Hips are raised along with Ray's voice, "Open wide for daddy," and as Timmy makes a big oval with his lips, the huge head is pushed into his mouth, and the hips begin to rise and fall in piston-like movements. In the background we hear Justin Bieber - "one of Timmy's favourites," Ray tells us between breathy gasps. The cam pans upwards to find the man's face jammed tightly between the child's buttocks. "Fucking hell," comes Ray again, "this beats a big Mac anytime". The cam pans backdown and focuses on the boy's face - his eyes are teary, his mouth stretched to the limit by a cock that must be bouncing off the roof his throat. Something flashes on the screen for a moment, and Oscar whispers, "They're filming it. They pay if you let them film it." "Ooops a-daisy," sings Ray. Timmy is upended and planted back on his lap facing the cam. "Let's try this end now," he croons. The cam gets in so close you can see the bulbous head of Ray's penis pressing against Timmy's hole. There isn't much resistance, at least for the first two inches but it's hardly credible that tiny bottom can take 8 or is it 9 inches of swollen, hardened flesh. Ray's hips rise and fall as if he is screwing his flesh into the boy, which in truth he is. The silence from the boy is unsettling. The cam pans back to his face. The boy's eyes are glassy, his big-eyed gaze unfocussed. The cam pans back down. Seven inches at least are bedded inside the boy. "Sometimes they need a little help," laughs Ray, "but when they snap out of it... that's when the real fun begins." He pauses, then, "What's your specialty, Adam?" I reach out and close our end of the cam share. The last thing I see is Ray's leering grin. "Get your clothes on," I tell Oscar. I must be using by teacher-voice because Oscar clambers from me with no protest and disappears into his bedroom. I follow, but enter mine, where I change into comfortable, casual clothes. By the time Oscar emerges, I've returned the couch and placed the computer chair where it should be. Oscar, without being asked, takes the seat. "Delete all of your folders," I instruct. "All of them?" he enquires. When there is no response, he carefully highlights each folder - 001PICS - 002VIDS - 003STORIES - 004CHATS - and deletes each one of them with a stroke of the key. Then he goes to the Recycle Bin and deletes all of them. He looks at me. I nod. He selects the programme ERASER and sets it to write over the unused space on the C:drive seven times. By morning, it will be gone, all of it, forever. I sit on the couch, call him over and pat the space beside me. He looks full into my eyes. "Oscar," I say, "do you want to stay here and do the things we've just seen? Or do you want to go and have fish and chips, and then go and see 'The Karate Kid'? "'The Karate Kid!'" he says, adding, "Who needs that perv shit?" As he skips off to get his jacket, I think, "You don't. And here's hoping I don't." (to be concluded in Part 10)