Date: Tue, 03 Apr 2001 15:41:32 From: Ganymede Subject: Pandora's Box IX Pandora's Box IX, by Ganymede and Christopher. WARNING: This story contains a graphic description of sexual acts between a man and a MINOR boy. We do not condone child abuse, how- ever boy-love as described in this story is an entirely different matter. If the subject of man/boy sex offends you, if this material is illegal in your place of residence, or if you are under the legal age for such material, do not read further! You have been warned! Read at your own risk! The story is copyrighted under the pseudonym, Ganymede. A copy has been placed in the Nifty archives for your enjoyment. Feel free to post it to appropriate newsgroups or send it to your friends. The story cannot be used to derive monetary gain. It cannot be placed in archives that require payment for access, or printed and distributed in any form that requires payment. THE NIFTY ARCHIVE: The Nifty Archive needs your support. If you enjoy reading this story, please remember that it is available only because of the Nifty Archive. Instructions are provided on the Nifty home page for how to provide support. FINAL WARNING: If you are under the age of 18, if this material is illegal in your place of residence, or if man-boy relationships aren't your thing, then exit now and save yourself from a life of sin! Pandora's Box IX: Sunday Morning When I woke up on Sunday morning, I was glad my penis was not erect like it had been nearly every morning for the last few weeks, the previous morning being no exception. I rolled over from one side to the other as I opened my eyes. My arm moved, shoving down the sheet that covered me. Coolness settled over me, as far down as the sheet had been pushed, as far down as my crotch. "Look who's finally awake." I did not recognize the voice at first. I lay there, trying to assemble the pieces of my mind, which if put together in the right order, offered the hope of understanding whose voice it was. "Good morning Chrissie. I was beginning to think you'd never wake up." Mom's voice. I groaned, still keeping my eyes closed to keep out the light coming from the window. "Someone must have had a good night. I wonder if his cute lit- tle butt is sore. One can only imagine what happened last night." Whose voice was it? I should know. Then laughter. The laughter was familiar too. "Oh, don't be so vulgar. He's always like this when he wakes up." "Maybe we should look, Kate. It should be easy enough to tell if he's still a virgin." "For heaven's sake. Steven even told him to wear white from now on." "What's that got to do with it? Oh, of course. Virginity!" "I know we'll have to make a trip into Palm Springs to buy him some more clothes. I don't know what we're going to do about some- thing formal, especially if it has to be in white." The voice laughed, almost sneering. "Of course, you never know with Steven. He might just say that to keep it a secret. We might have to have the deflowering party sooner than we thought." "Sue, that's silly and you know it." She laughed again. "I'll look just to make sure. It should be a lot bigger if he lost his cherry last night." My Aunt Sue was in our bedroom. Was she coming closer? Why on earth was she talking about cherries? It sounded like she was at the foot of my bed. I considered whether I should continue to pretend I was still asleep. My mother might make her leave me alone if she thought I was still asleep. I felt one of her cold hands on my thigh, the other pressing on my exposed upper buttock, lifting up, parting my cheeks wide. I tried to pull away, but she held me, laugh- ing as I struggled ineffectually to get away and pull the sheet back over me. I kept tugging but to no avail. I was so mortified that I wanted to scream at her and tell her to leave me alone. "You couldn't get a pencil up Christopher's anus without him screaming his pretty little head off. Your son's as virgin as the day he came out of your womb, Kate. I shudder to think how he'll be able to take a man and still be able to poop afterwards." "Sue, that's enough!" "You really should have him talk to Bryce before he leaves with Steven. You never know what might happen. At the very least he needs to know what's expected of him and how to get himself ready." "Sue, please don't be gross about it. It's difficult enough for Chrissie to understand all this without you tormenting him to death." "He's got such a tiny little thing, hasn't he? I think it's so sweet. It's just big enough to show he's a boy. David's one is so much larger," Aunt Sue continued unabated. She released the sheets and stepped back, smirking at me. "Why is she here?" I demanded angrily when I finally managed to recover control of the sheets and restore my dignity by covering my nakedness from her eyes. "Now, Sweetie, if you must know, Sue's here because she's help- ing me. And you too, for that matter, so don't talk in that tone of voice." "What?" I challenged. "Oh Chrissie!" she exclaimed. "It's so exciting. I was at breakfast with your Aunt Sue and your cousins, and your Uncle Steven came out to join us. Of course, he asked where you were right away, so I told him that you were still asleep." "One can only imagine why he was still sleeping. Perhaps because he was up until after midnight," Aunt Sue accused. She was enjoying herself. I glared at her angrily. "He was outside with Steven all that time. For hours. It's a wonder he can still walk." "Sue, please! Let me finish! You know as well as I do that nothing happened. Anyway, Chrissie, Steven really wanted to tell you himself, but he thought it would be better if you slept as long as possible because of tonight." "What about tonight?" I asked fretfully. "Oh Chrissie! Sweetie, that's the best part. It's so exciting. Steven is taking you to the Academy Awards." "Tonight?" I ascertained warily. "Well of course, tonight. The Awards are given tonight, on Sun- day evening, Chrissie. You'll be at the Awards Ceremony, and at a big fancy dress party afterwards. You'll be up till the early hours of the morning. I won't see you until some time on Monday after- noon when you get back here." "You're not coming with me?" "There's no reason for me to go, Sweetie. Steven will take very good care of you." "But Mom?" I said uncertainly. I did not know what to think. My mind reeled. Was I really going to the Oscars with all those famous people? It had to be impossible. "You're making this up, right? Just to get me out of bed or something?" My mother laughed and flapped her hands the way she did when she was excited. "Don't be silly, Chrissie. What do you think your Aunt Sue and I are trying to do right now?" "Huh? I have no idea. Other than trying to make my life misera- ble." My mother laughed again. "What would I give to be in your shoes tonight, young man? No, Sweetie, if you must know we're trying to decide what clothes you ought to wear. I really didn't plan on any- thing like this. I brought lots of casual clothes for you to wear, but nothing formal, of course. In fact, I have absolutely no idea what someone your age should wear to the Awards. Sue and I have been going through the magazines to try to find out. All the men wear tuxedos. We haven't found pictures of any boys your age yet. I expect they wear tuxedos as well. I really don't know. And then there's the fancy dress party after that," she added. I sat up and the sheet dropped away to my groin again. I ignored the fact that my penis was visible to anyone who cared to look. My clothes were spread all across the bottom of my bed, and my mother's bed too. There were some clothes that weren't even mine, but which were obviously a couple of sizes too large for me. "Mom,... It's true then?" "Of course it's true, Chrissie. I left Steven on the telephone. He's trying to get things lined up right now. He's taking care of the costumes for the party. I think he's trying to get a tuxedo for you as well. As you'd expect, it's impossible on a Sunday morning so Sue and I thought we'd look to see what we could find." "It's really true?" I asked in disbelief. "It's true!" "Yes Sweetie. That's what I've been trying to tell you, Chris- sie. You have to leave in an hour. You have to shower and get dressed and everything. And you haven't even eaten breakfast yet." "What time is it?" She glanced at her watch. "It's nearly a quarter to twelve." "It's midday?" "Sweetie, of course it's midday, almost. You'll have to leave with Steven at one o'clock. And your Aunt Sue is right. I think it would be a very good idea if you talked with Bryce before you left. It'll be later in the afternoon there. I only hope we can catch him at home." I jumped out of bed, running towards the bathroom as fast as I could. I caught a fleeting glimpse of Aunt Sue as she stared at my suntanned body. I was golden brown from head to toe, without tan lines. Almost as soon as I started moving, I was aware of the build- ing pressure in my bowels. I barely made it to the toilet. In fact, I think some even came out before I was sitting on the seat. I emp- tied within a matter of seconds, and then sat there for long minutes trying to excrete, but producing nothing except dribbling gurgling slime. What was in the toilet bowl stank and I flushed before I stood up. I was weak, but I still showered quickly, running the big bar of soap up and down and around as fast as I could go over a body that from the head down, was now totally devoid of any hair at all. All I could think of was that I was eleven years old and I was going to the Academy Awards! I shampooed my hair, rushing to apply conditioner before I remembered that my mother would probably apply mousse once I was dry and ready to get dressed. I brushed my teeth and bolted back in the bedroom. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that Aunt Sue had left. Still naked, I sat on the bed while my mother applied mousse and began the tedious task of styling my hair. She was excited as I was and she chattered gaily as she worked. "It's really important to Uncle Steven," she went on. "It's a big day for him too, Chrissie. He doesn't think he'll win an award, so he wasn't planning on going this year. It's so political. Anyway, now he's going and he wants to have you with him. But you never know, he might win. It's always a surprise up to the last minute. I am so proud that you're going with him. Head back, Chrissie. That's better. And the party afterwards is on a yacht. You'll meet so many famous people. I am so excited for you. Oh, how I wish we had more time to plan this for you. It's so unexpected. I would have bought you a tuxedo. It would be nice to keep even if you never wore it again. Now, I want you to be polite, but especially to your Uncle Steven's friends. Of course you will, I know that. And I want you to remember everything that happens so you can tell me afterwards. Oh, Chrissie, look in the mirror and tell me what you see." "Me?" "Sweetie, you are so wonderful. I never thought my funny little baby would grow up to be such a beautiful clever boy. You are so lucky." "Mom?" "Yes, Chrissie." "Why should I talk to Bryce before I leave?" I asked apprehen- sively. "Oh goodness, I forget about that. I'm so glad you reminded me. You need to talk about, well, about sex things, Sweetie. Just in case. You never know what might happen, and I wouldn't want you to be sur- prised." "Huh?" I asked nervously. "Honey, I'm sure that Bryce will tell you everything you need to know." She stood up and bustled around, bringing back the wireless phone and her notebook where she kept all of her phone numbers. "I wish I had a good memory like yours, Chrissie. I can't even remember the code for Boston," she said timidly. I told her and she punched in the numbers and waited for a connection. "Just look at me. I'm a bundle of nerves and I'm not the one going. Bryce? Bryce, is that you? Of course, this is Kate Faran." I listened to one side of a supposed two way conversation that was mostly one way. My mother spent a few minutes talking about the trip, the fabulous house, and the reunion. And then she dropped the bombshell! I heard Bryce's squeal of delight from where I sat. I grinned at my mother as she held the phone out from her ear and waited for him to calm down. "Yes, absolutely. I've already told him... Yes, I'll give him the camera.... Yes, that too... Lots of film.... He knows how to use it.... I'm sure he can change the film by himself... Bryce, the other reason why I'm calling,... Yes that too. I'll make sure I tell him. Bryce I want you to talk to Chrissie.... You know what about. He needs to know. Sooner rather that later, too. I don't want him to go through it by himself. He's too young... He needs to know everything, Bryce. Yes, that too. Especially that... I don't know. It might hap- pen. Tomorrow could be too late... I don't know. Yes, I expect so. Bryce, he's right beside me. I should leave? Okay. Bryce, thank you for doing this...." She stopped and held the phone to her breast, cradling it to her so that her voice would be muffled. She breathed out slowly. She smiled at me ruefully. "Chrissie, I wish it didn't have to be this way. I'd much rather you could talk face to face. But there isn't the time. Bryce is going to tell you some things. Chrissie, I want you to lis- ten to him very carefully. If you don't understand what he's talking about, ask him to explain. If you have any questions, I'm sure that Bryce will do his best to answer them." I nodded uncertainly. I had no idea what she was talking about, even then. She handed me the phone. I lifted it up. She nodded eagerly and started to back towards the door. "Chrissie I'll be back in twenty minutes, okay? I'm going to check with Uncle Steven about your clothes for the Awards ceremony." I nodded again. She left, closing the door with a firm pull to make certain that it was locked. It was an old habit that was hard to change. "Bryce?" I said tentatively. Equally tentatively, my fingers sought solace by caressing my penis. "Hi Christopher. How are you going?" "Great. I'm having the best time ever." "And your Uncle Steven? Do you like him?" "Uh huh." "A little or a lot?" I didn't have to think before I answered. "A lot." "That's great. Do you think he likes you a little or a lot?" I thought for a moment. "A lot." My penis flexed slightly and started to stiffen. I stroked the tip, shivering as my nerves sent tingles down my spine. I drew a finger down the rippling line on the under side. I followed it over my scrotum, further down. It led towards my anus. Where did that little line come from? Maybe I had an operation when I was younger? "Wonderful. Now Christopher, your mother asked me to talk with you before you leave. You're so lucky to have that chance to go to the Oscars with him. Do you know why we have to talk?" "Kind of." "Why?" "I think she wants us to talk about sex stuff," I ventured ner- vously. Bryce laughed. "Yes, she does. Don't be scared, Christopher. You're a very lucky boy. You have a mother who understands and sup- ports you, and you have a friend who can tell you what you need to know. I had none of that. I had to find out the hard way bending over in front of glory holes when I was fifteen. I suppose there are worse ways to find out about sex. How much do you know?" "About sex?" I ascertained. Mostly, I had no idea what Bryce was talking about. "Yes." "I know how babies are made. The man puts his penis in the woman's vagina," I announced boldly. "Well, that's true, but it's not much help to you, now is it Christopher? In case you haven't realized, you don't have a vagina. What do you know about homosexuals?" he asked bluntly. "Last night Mom said,... " I paused, trying to remember what she said. "She said that they do stuff, you know,... in their butts." My penis jumped as soon as I said it, waking up even more. By then it had become hard enough to stand clear of my belly, and even though I was lying on my side it did not droop down more than a frac- tion of an inch. I picked at the puckered skin on the end, poking my finger inside the small opening. I grinned. It was nice. "Oh! Well that's also true. Do you have any questions about that?" I thought for a second. It was straightforward when you stopped to think about it. Yet, it wasn't. For one thing, how could a penis the size of Steven's possibly fit through that tiny little hole back there? "I guess," I said sheepishly. "Such as?" Bryce prompted. "Like how does it get inside, and like what happens when it does? How far in does it go?" Bryce laughed again. "Christopher, my boy, I think we need to begin at the very beginning." There was a brief silence. "You are alone right?" "Yeah. Mom's gone to talk to Steven about my clothes for tonight. I think I have to wear a tuxedo or something." I started to rub up and down my penis very slowly. Going down was more fun than the return trip. It was better when the skin at the end pulled against the little knob inside. I resisted trying to pull the skin back over the head. I would save that for later. "Wow! Okay, Christopher. I want you to be honest with me. I want to know how much sex stuff you've done." I wasn't about to make the same mistake twice. "I promised I wouldn't tell, Bryce." "I don't want to know who, just what. It could be anyone for all I know. Have you done anything, any sex stuff with your uncle?" Did skinny dipping and getting your testicles squeezed qualify as `sex stuff'? Probably not. However, what I did with Joel defi- nitely did. I wasn't that naïve. "No! Um,... I played with another boy's thing yesterday," I admitted self-consciously. I hoped that Bryce would not tell my mother. "That's all?" "I,... um,... I,... I sucked his thing too," I added awkwardly. "Okay, you're normal as far as I'm concerned," Bryce chuckled. "Did you enjoy it? "Yeah! It was okay." I giggled. It was certainly okay. "It was fun," I added. "As it should be. By the way, have you ever seen a man's penis?" "Uh huh. Last night. I saw Steven's." I started to rub faster. The skin was amazingly flexible. I could move my fingers from the top almost to the bottom of my penis and the skin moved with them. I imagined Steven, dark, hairy, naked. I wanted to reach out and touch his huge penis. "Yesterday was a big day for you, wasn't it? I hope your young friend realized how lucky he was. Did you really enjoy doing those things?" "Yeah, I guess." "You don't sound very convinced, Christopher," Bryce observed. "I guess because I'm not," I admitted reluctantly. "What does that mean?" "Um,... well it was fun and kind of cool, until I thought about it afterwards. Then I wished I hadn't done it." "Because of your Uncle Steven?" Bryce prompted. "How did you know?" I asked curiously. I began to pull the skin back from the head. It stuck about a quarter of the way down, revealing the shiny purple crown that lived inside. It was swollen so much that I wondered if I would ever be able to get the skin pulled back far enough to see all of it. "I could tell as soon as you said that you liked him a lot. Do you know what love is, Christopher?" "Yeah. It's when you like someone a lot." "That works for me. Do you love Steven?" "I,... I don't know. I don't love him like I love Mom. It's dif- ferent. He makes me feel funny whenever he's close. I can't stop thinking about him. I dream about him all the time. It's like I can't get him out of my mind." "Take it from me, Christopher, you have a bad case of puppy love," Bryce laughed. After a moment he asked, "Do you think about having sex with him?" "Huh?" I swallowed. How did Bryce know to ask that question? "Okay, let me put it this way. If he sucked your cock or if you sucked his cock, would you feel bad about it?" "No!" I replied instantly. "That's why I feel bad about what I did with Joel." I had not intended to use his name. It just slipped out. "Oh! You like him that much, huh? Better make that a very bad case of puppy love. Do you think about doing that with him?" "Sucking his cock?" I asked. Even saying the words made me excited. I pretended I was showing Steven when I yanked at my penis, shuddering with a momentary sharp pain as the skin came all the way back. The little helmet head was fully exposed. I touched it with my little finger and I shivered. It felt incredibly good. It was even better than in the airplane. Here, I had more room to spread out and I did not have to worry about anyone wanting to use the toilet. "Yes, Christopher. Or having him suck your cock?" I did not want to answer. I wasn't sure I even knew the answer. What did I want? Did I really know? I had been angry when Joel had not done to me what I had done to him, but now? All I wanted was to be able to put my mouth over Steven's penis and push down onto it until my mouth was full. Bryce was asking me to tell him my deepest secret. I breathed out heavily. "I'll take that sigh as a yes," Bryce chuckled. "He hasn't kissed you yet, has he?" "Steven?" I smiled. What an interesting idea. For a brief moment it almost seemed as if it was going to happen while I was with Steven by the pool. Something told me that it was only a matter of time until he did. "No," I said softly. "Not yet." "He will, and soon too," Bryce said matter-of-factly. "You need to start thinking about it so you won't be scared when it happens. He'll want to do a lot more things too, if I'm not mistaken. Christo- pher, if you don't understand the next question, then say so. If he wanted to have sex with you, would you?" I trembled. The excitement was so great that I stopped strok- ing. I took my hand away from my penis. I closed my eyes. I had woken up and remembered, and all I could think about what my mother and I had been talking about before I fell asleep. Having sex was differ- ent to putting a penis in a vagina to make babies. Homosexuals had sex when one man put his penis in the other's bottom. The idea, which should have been foreign to me, was wildly exciting. It was not that different that I could not imagine doing it with Steven. What I needed to know was how it was achieved. And it wasn't dis- gusting to me, not like it was for most boys when they were con- fronted by it. The boys at school made fun about it all the time. I could see nothing funny about it. To me it was both interesting and serious. I fingered my penis. I did not know why but I was not particularly interested in putting it inside another person's bot- tom. What did that mean about me? "Yes!" I finally said. I grinned. Had I really said that? "What if it hurt when his cock went in your butt?" "I'd still want to do it," I replied adamantly. "If it meant that other people, like your friends at school, would know you were gay and make fun of you? You know what being `gay' means, don't you?" I sighed again. The older boys at school tormented anyone who could possibly be considered as `gay', and more than a few who couldn't. I was not looking forward to it, but I did not have a choice. I touched the swollen head of my penis with my fingernail where it bulged because of the skin that had gathered behind it. It made me tremble. "Yeah, I know. It's still yes," I answered, less assured but still convinced I would want have sex with Steven no matter what the consequences might be. "Good for you. I like a boy who knows what he wants and who isn't afraid of doing it. Christopher, although gays tend to get stereotyped a lot, you need to know that there are different kinds of gays. For example, I'm what is called a boy." "But you're old, Bryce." That didn't sound very nice. "Well not that old, but you're not a boy either," I elaborated. "I'm nearly thirty, Christopher. I might not seem old enough to be your father,..." Bryce paused. I waited for him to speak again. It was a few seconds before he did. "Okay,... A boy, Christopher, in our lingo is a gay who likes his man to be dominant. He's naturally sub- missive. We're almost always bottoms." "What's a bottom?" "Um,... Well, there's a guy on top and he provides the cock, and there's a guy on the bottom and,... " "He provides the bottom," I giggled. "Okay, I get the picture. Are you always a bottom?" I asked curiously. "Yes. I've never wanted it any other way. It's right for me. That's what being a boy means. I know a few boys who swap sometimes just to see what it's like on top, but most don't enjoy it." "Do you think I'm going to be a boy when I grow up?" I laughed as soon as the words were out of my mouth. Bryce laughed as well. "It's okay, I know what you mean. You've never been assertive, Christopher. I had hopes when you started with Taekwondo, but your mom told me you had a problem." "I can't spar, not like the other kids. I try to, but I get scared," I admitted. "Yes, I've heard. And you're very sensitive about things, the same as I was at your age. You're also very concerned with your appearance. I'm the same way too. There are lots of other signs." "Like what?" I asked anxiously. Bryce laughed. "We don't have the time to go through all of them, Christopher. But trust me, you have them all and not because you're a boy. A boy as in eleven years old. Honestly, I've never seen anyone who was so obviously headed down the passive path. You're a natural if ever there was one." "Natural what?" "Christopher if there was one word to describe you, what would it be?" Bryce asked. I thought for a second. "I don't know. That's not a fair ques- tion. I can't say in just a single word." "Yes it is. When I was a boy my father called me effeminate. Do you know what that means?" "No." "It means,... it means I was like a girl." "Your father called you a girl?" I asked awkwardly. I was thinking of the boys at school and what they said about me some- times. "Not quite. He wasn't saying that I was girl, because obviously I wasn't. He was saying I acted like a girl sometimes. I spent too much time taking care of my appearance. I used to cry a lot. I wasn't like other boys." "Oh. I'm like what your father said about you then?" "Effeminate," Bryce answered. "What do you think, Christopher?" "I don't know. I guess I am. I get teased a lot about acting like a girl sometimes, and because of how I look," I added. As I spoke, I examined my sex organs with the intense interest of an eleven-year-old boy with other problems that he did not want to deal with. Joel was definitely right about the shape of my scro- tum. It did look like it was attached to the underside of my penis. However, the skin actually came up around the top of it so my penis looked like it was poking through my scrotum. It was strange how a person got used to things that had been there all his life. Even like that, it was similar to Joel's. The penis was an oddly shaped thing when you took the time to think about it. Maybe it was from how the woman's vagina was shaped. My Health teacher told us the penis was intended to deliver the little sperms to the right location, but other than that there really was no logical reason it was shaped the way it was. The knob on the end made absolutely no sense, and the skin which usually covered the end made even less sense. "Weird," I thought aloud. "What's weird? "Sorry. I was thinking of something else. Bryce?" "Yes?" "Is that why Steven likes me?" I asked nervously. It was the only reason that I could think of. "Because of how I am?" "It's very likely, Christopher. Men like your Uncle Steven,... and I've known quite a few of them over the years, they're usually attracted to boys. I don't mean young boys, well in a way I guess I do. Actually, I'm certain that all the men I've been with would have preferred me a lot more if I was twelve and hairless. I've even had a few who insisted that I shave off my pubic hair so I was smooth down there. Most men like their boys to be smooth." "Then why don't they get boys as friends instead? Real boys I mean," I clarified with a giggle. "Because at this particular point in time it's socially unac- ceptable for a man to have a boy as a friend," Bryce said. "Our pol- iticians have decided that it's child abuse if a boy falls in love with a man and they have sex. The end result is it's illegal." "Oh! So they like make do with older guys," I asked. It sounded funny, men pretending to be boys so that other men would like them more. "They pretend to be boys?" "Yes. Except your Uncle Steven doesn't have to pretend because he has a real boy. That's you, Christopher. I might be mistaken about him, but I think he's the dominating kind. That's one of the reasons why he's attracted to you. Remember, he could have any boy he wanted, but he appears to have chosen you. My bet is it's because he wants to dominate you. He'll love you as much as any other man, but you'll always have to be the passive one. You'll have to be very obedient and do what he wants." "I don't understand," I said nervously. "Has he hurt you?" "Hurt me?" I repeated. I hesitated in telling him, but so far I had kept nothing back. "Bryce,... He squeezed my balls really hard last night when we were in the pool." "Badly?" I could detect concern in Bryce's voice. "Kind of, I guess. It hurt when he did it. They were sore for a while. They're okay now," I added. "I'm not surprised. He probably didn't intend to hurt you as much as he did. Partly it's about control for him. Peter was like that as well. He used to pull on my cock when he was doing it. I used to worry he'd tear the skin because he yanked on it so hard." "Yuk!" "In a way, I suppose it was, Christopher. You don't want to believe that one of the ways that someone can show you how much he loves you is by hurting you. But you see, I also liked it. I was with Peter for four years until he got transferred to Germany. I loved him a lot." "Why did he go to Germany?" "He was in the army. He was a captain or something when I knew him. The last I heard he was a Colonel. Sometimes T think I'm still in love with him." "Bryce,..." I began. "I hated it when he did it. But afterwards, I wanted to go back to him. I, I , I ,... " "I know, Christopher. You don't have to say it. I understand perfectly." "I can't help it, Bry," I murmured. I went back to stroking my penis, wondering how stiff I could make it, wondering whether I would experience the same powerful tremors that I had discovered the previous morning. I knew how to do it now. All I had to do was rub up and down. Just keep rubbing. When the pressure inside me increased to the point of being painful, then I had to make myself keep going. After that it was only a matter of a few seconds. Part of me realized that they were the only seconds worth living for. "Neither can I, Christopher. After a while you realize it's just the way you are and you can't change it. You learn to live with it, eventually. You're different to other guys. In a way, it's an advantage." "How so?" "You'll find out before long. It makes you special, Christo- pher." "Should I tell him to stop him next time?" I asked shamefully. "I guess I kind of knew that things were getting out of hand. I think he would have stopped if I asked him." "That's up to you. You have to make your own choices. I don't think he'd do anything to permanently injure you. I've seen some men who would. Believe me, you don't want to know them. Most of them are happy if you're on the bottom and you're enjoying it. For others it's more about control. Like Peter. He even made me get a tattoo." "You have a tattoo?" I asked in disbelief. "I've never seen it." "Yes I do, Christopher. It's on my right butt cheek. It's a big `P' with flowers around it. Pansies actually. `P' and pansies, get it?" "Yeah, I get it. It's not very funny. I guess it means `Peter', too?" "Yes, and something else. He'd just done a tour of duty in England when I met him, and one of the names for gays over there is `pansy'. Multiple meanings, I guess. The thing is, Christopher, he wanted to leave his mark on me. I was Peter's boy and he wanted everyone to know it." I thought about that. I wanted to be Steven's boy more than anything, however I knew my mother would not allow me to have a tat- too. When the time came I would want his mark on me so that people would see it and know. I wondered if wearing his mother's diamond studs in my ears was the same. Could those show everyone who I belonged to? I started pulling the loose skin higher, dragging it against the bloated head. I whimpered, turning quickly to muffle my cry in the pillow. Then, thinking I was awfully inventive, I tried some- thing else. I pushed the pillow down and folded the end around my penis. It was not at all like holding it in my hand. It felt dry and soft. I began to push into the pillow, pushing into the stiff linen pillow case. I groaned uncontrollably. Was this how it would feel for Steven when he pushed his penis into my bottom? "What's wrong, Christopher?" "Uh? Nothing. I'm just tired," I lied. "Okay, Christopher, let's get right to the point. Most of what you'll need to know in order to be a good bottom, Steven's going to teach you. That's his job. If he's only half the man I think he is, you're in good hands. I'd much rather you learned about sex from him than using spit in front of a glory hole. He'll take care of you." "What's a glory hole?" It was the second time that he had mentioned it. Bryce chuckled. "I'll tell you the next time I see you, but take my word for it, a boy like you doesn't need to be using one. What I will tell you are two tricks that I've picked to make for a better relationship." "Should I write them down, Bryce?" I asked innocently. Bryce laughed. "You won't need to, Christopher. Just commit them to memory. The first trick is being able to get his dick inside you. Take your hand and slide it down the back of your pants until you feel your butt hole." "I don't have any clothes on," I giggled. "So I am sitting here in my sleazy apartment in Cambridge talk- ing to a naked boy in Palm Springs?" "Uh huh. You want to know something else?" I teased. I giggled again, wondering why I was talking like one of the girls in the playground. I wanted Bryce to know what I was doing, had been doing since my mother left, but why? I wriggled my hips, backing away slightly to watch my penis bumping against the pillow. It would be easy to pretend that the pillow was Steven. There was only one problem. It did not have a penis. "What?" "My thing is hard. I've been playing with it while we've been talking." "Lucky Steven. I hope he knows what he's in for with you," Bryce laughed. "Okay, Sexy-boy, I want you to reach down behind you and feel your butt hole." "I am already. Why?" Bryce laughed. "Why am I not surprised? Do you feel how small it is?" "Uh huh." Touching that private place behind me actually felt nicer that touching the private place in front of me. I rubbed my finger over it, exploring the essential part of my anatomy for the very first time in my life. It felt so astonishingly good that I had to wonder why hadn't I discovered it before. "And when you saw your uncle's penis, was it hard or soft?" "Huh?" "Was it big?" "Oh, you mean was it big? Not really. I mean it was big, but it wasn't big," I laughed again. I could see it swaying from side to side as he walked. It did not stick out in front like mine or Joel's did. It hung straight down and bounced off his legs as he walked. "Bryce, I mean it was big, but it was soft," I tried to explain. Bryce laughed too. It was good to laugh with him. During the last fifteen minutes I was closer to him than I had been in nine years I had been going to the salon with my mother. "When it's hard, it'll be a lot bigger, you know," Bryce said informatively. "I know that, Bryce. When mine gets stiff it gets bigger too. Mom said it's supposed to do that," I added knowledgeably. "Okay, now I want you to imagine his hard cock inside your butt hole." "It'd never fit!" I chortled. "There's no way. My butt hole is way too tiny." "You might not think it's possible, but actually, it will fit. Your hole has to get larger for when you poop, doesn't it? "I guess," I admitted without giving it much thought. "It closes up as soon as you finish pooping. It does the same thing when you have sex. It might hurt a bit though, Christopher." "Oh!" I said. While I disputed the possibility, at the same time I had to acknowledge that I could sometimes do some pretty thick loads at times. Still, I did not believe him. I would have to be a lot older before it was even remotely feasible. I stopped playing with my anus I was so disappointed. "The trick is making your hole larger, Christopher. Your friend will do most of it for you, but you have to help him by loosening the muscle inside you. It's called a sphincter muscle by the way. You help by exerting control over it. You have to make it relax before anything can happen, and only you can do that. You can start right now by using your fingers. Spit on the end of one of your fingers and try pushing it in." I tried. It didn't feel half bad. I giggled. Within seconds I had discovered that much better than poking at my hole was moving my finger in small circles around the outside and working towards the center until it was softer. Then, my forefinger just slipped past the rim. I gasped and made my muscle stop trying to push it out again. Before I realized it, my finger was embedded somewhere between the first and second joint. I wanted to see behind me but no matter how much I craned my neck over my shoulder all I could see was my butt cheek. "Christopher, are you okay?" "Sorry. I was just doing what you said." "Well?" "It's nicer now." "How far in is it?" Bryce asked. His voice sounded anxious. "A bit. About half of my finger I think. It got dry so fast. It doesn't feel as nice now." "Steven will take care of the dryness problem. There are some special lubricants that will keep you very slippery for a long while. You had to relax to get it inside, didn't you?" "I guess." "Okay. Here's what you need to know. If you squeeze on it or try to push it out it won't go in at all. So whatever you do, don't fight it and don't try to force it in or out. As a bottom, you have one job only and that's to relax. You have to make your sphincter go as soft and loose as possible. You can practice doing it any where you want and no one will know." "What's the second trick?" I asked speedily. I was keeping an eye on the clock next to the bed. My mother would be back in a few minutes. "Ha, you thought I wasn't going to tell you?" Bryce laughed. "Okay, I'm going to talk dirty for a while and I don't want you telling your mom. Deal?" "Deal," I agreed. I pulled my finger out, licked it thoroughly without even thinking about where it had been and quickly reinserted it before it had a chance to dry. It slipped in easily, past where it had been, going further and further into my body until I began to think Steven's penis really might fit inside me. I could feel the muscle that Bryce had described. It was like a band that kept trying to squash my finger. If I lost concentration for only a second or two, my finger would be pushed out. "Now, after using his fingers to loosen you up, it's called finger-fucking by the way, he'll put his cock inside you." "Okay." I hoped it was possible, but it still did not seem possible. "It'll probably hurt a bit, Christopher. I'm not going to lie to you. You have to be ready for it. That's just the way it is. It hurts at first. Do the same thing as before. Don't fight his cock when he starts to put it in. Whatever you do, don't push back and try to force it through. Just make yourself relax. It will go in, Christo- pher, trust me. It will just need a little time. The thing is to be patient and for him to be gentle with you. Once he gets the head past your anus, the rest is relatively simple. His cock should just slide in unless it's one of those that's thicker in the middle." "How far in does it go, Bryce?" I asked nervously. "Your first time? It depends, Christopher. Personally, I love being deep-dicked. That's what it's called when he puts his cock all the way in. Sometimes when you start out, all you can take is a cou- ple of inches, but that's enough. Later on you can take more. You'll want it harder and faster too. However, if it starts hurting badly, let him know quickly." "Why?" I asked. "Because, Christopher, you're still a very young boy. That's why. It is quite possible that his cock could rupture you. That means your anus or rectum splits open." "Oh! That's bad?" "That's very bad. It means a trip to a hospital, or at the very least to a doctor. It won't take a doctor or a nurse more than a minute to figure out what you've been doing. And for Steven that's a big problem because you're an under-aged boy. They'll put him in jail." I was still rubbing my anus, but from the inside. Unless I was mistaken there was a lot of room inside. Strange, considering how small it was on the outside, I mused. Then, in the middle of wrig- gling my finger around inside my rectum to find where it felt the best, I had the thought that all boys have. Somewhere in there was the dreaded poop. And there were other problems. I could be hurt and I could endanger Steven as well. "Remember that relaxing is the key, Christopher. I know some people say to push back like you're pooping. Sometimes it works, but more likely you'll push something out that you didn't intend to." I giggled. It did not take a lot of imagination. "Gross!" "You can say that again. It does get messy sometimes, and you have to expect that will happen. Accidents happen. Whatever you do, don't do it on something like that's worth a lot of money like a rug. It's always a good idea to put a towel underneath where your butt will be. Anyway, where was I?" "You were talking about the second thing," I giggled. "Okay!" Bryce hesitated. "Now, let's assume his cock is in you. Maybe it's in a few inches, maybe more. He'll give you a minute or two to get used to it. Again, the whole time, keep trying to relax. Sometimes it helps if you close up a bit by squeezing slightly, then relax it again and make it as loose as you can." "Okay." I was becoming impatient. "Then he'll start thrusting. Most men will start gently. His cock doesn't have to move very far for him to feel good. If it's in the right place, you'll know it," Bryce laughed. I did not understand why that was funny. "How? What's the right place?" "He'll know, Christopher. Trust me! So will you," he said seri- ously. "It'll be like nothing you can imagine. There is really no way of explaining what it's like." "Okay." "Now, the second trick. The one thing that most bottoms do wrong is not giving him enough access. Keep your legs as wide apart as possible, and keep doing it during the entire time he's inside you, but especially once he starts fucking. If you need to drape your leg over his leg, or put your legs around his waist, or on his shoulders. Just get them as far apart as possible." "Why?" "Think about it, Christopher. He's fucking your butt. The best feelings are inside you, not pumping back and forth through your butt-cheeks. That's why his cock is inside your butt in the first place. If he just wanted to get off between your butt-cheeks he wouldn't go to all the effort of putting it inside, would he?" "I guess not," I said. It made sense when I thought about it. "By opening your legs you get your cheeks as wide apart as pos- sible. He'll enjoy it more and so will you." "Why will I?" I asked doubtfully. It felt very nice just with my finger moving in and out. The dryness had vanished and my finger slid through with increasing ease. I had the bizarre thought that I could probably put two fin- gers inside my anus. "Because he'll last longer and fuck you harder. It's actually a good idea to keep your legs apart whenever you're with him so he knows you want him, even if you're just kissing. If he's playing with it or sucking you off, keep your legs apart so he knows you like it. It's a good habit to get into." I heard the door opening. My mother was back from talking with Steven. It took a few seconds to sink in. It took that long for me to pull my finger out and wipe if off against the sheet behind me. "I have to go now. Mom's back," I muttered. "Bryce?" "Yes, Christopher?" "Thanks. I feel better about stuff now." "It's okay. Remember to relax. That's all you've got to do. Do that and you'll probably enjoy losing your virginity. The first one is the one you'll never forget. Say good bye to your mom for me." My mother was standing next to my bed pointing at her watch impatiently. If she noticed my what I had been doing when she entered the room , she did not show any sign. "Okay. I will. I'll take lots of photos, Bryce. Thanks again." I switched off the telephone and handed it to my mother as I scrambled to get dressed. If Steven was anything like Bryce had said, it would not do to keep him waiting. The clothes she had laid out for me included a pair of white micro-briefs edged with red, a pair of off-white colored slacks and a soft white sweater made out of the same sort of material as a towel, but much softer. I got dressed as quickly as I could while my mother brought me up to date with the most recent change of plans. The only shoes that I could wear given the `white-rule' were a pair of brand new, never-before-worn white sneakers. "Steven has been absolutely wonderful. He's been so busy this morning, Chrissie. They've opened up a store in Palm Springs just for you. He's actually managed to get you a tuxedo, although heaven's only knows how. I never thought they would make tuxedos in your size." "Cool," I said. I had a vague idea what a tuxedo was. She was talking serious penguin material. "You're going to be driven in a limousine all the way to Los Angeles in time for the Awards. It's so wonderful. I'm terribly excited for you. I know you'll have an incredible time with him." "Do you think I need a belt, Mom?" I asked as I examined my slacks. "They're sort of loose on my hips." "Only because you're so skinny. My, but don't you look good in them, Chrissie. Just like a little movie star. No belt. They won't fall down very far. I wish we had time to take them in, though. I think you've actually lost weight the last two days. Hurry up and put the shirt on, Sweetie. We need to be outside. We simply can't be late this time." I yanked the soft white top over my head. It had a low cut neck, which I liked because it showed off my chain and the brown skin of my neck. If anything, I would have preferred a shirt that I could leave the buttons undone to show even more. "Oh My! Chrissie you look like an angel," she breathed out. "My beautiful little boy has turned into an angel." I tried to ignore her as I put my toiletries and two changes of underwear in a small overnight bag that she had packed for me, again without my knowledge. It looked like a ladies handbag, but it wasn't. I had used my pocket money to buy it at the flea markets near the North End. Bryce had one very much like it except that his was black and mine was brown. I put it over my shoulder and studied my reflection in the mir- ror. I swung my arm and pirouetted around. It was like I was prac- ticing in the bathroom in our apartment in Cambridge. I did not realize that she was watching me. "Chrissie, I didn't know you could be so girly," she teased. "Mom!" I retorted. "Don't be silly, Sweetie. I wasn't making fun of you." "Yes you were!" I said angrily. "You can't help it, Honey. Mommy does mind if her little boy likes girly things," she mocked. "I, I, I hate you," I stammered defensively. I almost stamped my foot. "I love you, Chrissie. One day you'll realize how much I love you." "I know you love me, Mom," I said miserably. "I can't help what I do. It's like something inside me is telling me to do it and I can't stop myself." "I know. Don't be defensive about who you are, Sweetie. You can't change that and neither can I. I can make it easier for you and help you to get through the difficult parts," she said calmly. I nodded nervously. I wanted to cry. I did not want to leave her. She understood me better than I understood myself. Mrs. Meier had said the same thing about mothers and their sons. I could feel her sympathy. "I love you, Mom," I said honestly. "I love you more than any- one in the whole world." She smiled reassuringly. "That'll change eventually Chrissie. I won't mind being the second most important person in your life." "You'll never be second," I said adamantly. "Yes, I will, Sweetie, but I don't mind. It's supposed to be that way. You have to find someone to be with. I only want you to be happy." Mom?" I asked abruptly. "Yes, Chrissie? What is it? We really have to hurry?" "Mom, what Bryce and I talked about," I began awkwardly. "Yes?" "You wanted us to talk about stuff, you know gay stuff," I said timidly. "Yes, Chrissie. I hope you did. You did, didn't you?" "yeah. It's because you think I'm,... I'm gay?" "Yes, Chrissie." "You're not angry?" I asked nervously. "Angry? Why on earth would I be angry? Two of my best friends are gay." "Bryce?" I suggested boldly. "Of course Bryce is gay, Sweetie. And Jeffrey too. They're quite a pair." "Oh! I didn't know Bryce and Jeffrey,..." "Not like that!" My mother laughed. "Don't be silly, Chrissie. They're both bottoms. They wouldn't be able to do anything."