RENEGADES & OUTLAWS

By Pink Panther

All the usual disclaimers apply.

Quite a happy chapter, this one, so read on and enjoy! As always, feedback will be more than welcome; please send your comments to archimedes294@hushmail.com and I’ll reply as soon as I can.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

Rachel opened the front door and headed through to the kitchen. Ryan had just finished getting everything ready for her to cook dinner.

“I’ve got some news,” she said excitedly. “I spoke to Jack the other day, asked him if he’d be willing to give it another try. He said he needed to think about it and he’d call me back. Well he called me today and said he’d like to meet me to talk about it. He’s coming over for dinner on Saturday.”

“That’s great, mum!” Ryan said, giving her a hug. “I knew you could do it.”

“Well, he’s not made his mind up yet,” Rachel cautioned. “We mustn’t go getting ahead of ourselves.”

“It’ll be fine, mum,” Ryan said, smiling.

Rachel was certainly more hopeful than she’d been a few weeks earlier; she just hoped that Ryan was right. It was strange, she reflected, the way that the problems they’d been through in the previous few weeks had brought her and Ryan together. He seemed so much more grown up, somehow; she felt that she could trust him in a way that she never had previously. And if Jack did decide to come back, maybe the troubles they’d experienced would have been worth it.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Their sex-session at an end, Tommy made his way to Steve’s bathroom to clean up. The task completed, he returned to the bedroom and began pulling on his clothes.

“I need to ask you something,” Steve said, passing him three twenty pound notes. “There’s this friend of mine, Martin. I’ve not mentioned him before because he’s been abroad on business, but he’s back now and he’d really like to meet you; he’s got a real thing about young footballers. He’s a nice guy, a real good laugh actually, and he’ll see you right, yeah? So what d’you think?”

Tommy was torn. He didn’t need the money, and he was wary about getting too involved. On the other hand, Steve had helped him out when he had no-one else; he didn’t want to let him down.

“Yeah, okay,” he said guardedly. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to fit it in though.”

“Early evenings not possible?” Steve queried.

Tommy screwed his face up. He was still seeing Mark on Tuesdays and he trained with his club football team on Wednesdays. Fridays were out too because they had school football matches on Saturday mornings. That left Mondays and Thursdays.

“Thursdays might be okay,” he suggested.

“Be outside the old swimming baths at eight o’clock, Thursday evening,” Steve instructed. “He’ll pick you up. He’ll be driving a black BMW M3, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay,” Tommy agreed. “He’ll have to take me back to our end afterwards though; I don’t wanna be goin’ home on the bus at that time.”

“That’s no problem,” Steve assured him. “I’ll tell him.”

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Jack arrived at Rachel’s house just after five o’clock. Rachel ushered him through into the back lounge room. They sat on the sofa, chatting uneasily, Rachel desperate not to say the wrong thing, Jack still unsure if he’d be able to trust her again.

“I’ll just have to go and finish getting dinner ready,” she said finally.

She hurried into the kitchen, feeling very apprehensive, aware that their initial conversation hadn’t gone well. Jack wandered into the front room where Ryan was doing his piano practice.

“Hello Ryan,” he said warmly as the boy finished playing. “Good to see you again!”

“You too!” Ryan said, standing up and smiling.

“So how’s grammar school going?” Jack asked, gripping Ryan’s hand.

“Pretty good,” Ryan said, “now we’ve sorted out that I don’t have to play for the rugby team.”

“Yeah, your mum told me about that,” Jack said quietly. “Arsey Thomas was at the school when I was there; he’s always been the same. I’m pleased to hear that the new Head’s clipping his wings; that’s long overdue.”

“So are you and mum getting together again?” Ryan asked pointedly.

“We’re thinking about it,” Jack responded. “My dad said I should give it another try; he really took to your mum, and you for that matter, but it’s a big step. Trust is like a crystal vase; it’s beautiful till you break it. I know you’re mum’s promised that she’ll never let me down again, but being sure I can believe it’s another matter.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” Ryan said, looking him straight in the eye. “Mum always keeps her promises.”

Jack looked at him and blinked. “You sound very certain about it,” he said.

“It’s been just me and mum since I was five,” Ryan said. “So I know. If mum says she’s going to do something, she always does it.”

“It’s great to hear you say that,” Jack said, smiling.

“Yeah, well after dad left,” Ryan went on, “well after mum threw him out actually, she used to go out drinking with her friends from work. She always had too much, like once she’d started she couldn’t stop until she was, you know . . .”

“Legless,” Jack offered.

“Pretty much,” Ryan agreed. “I hated it cause she was always in a bad mood the next day”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” Jack said.

“And she did really stupid things when she was drunk,” Ryan added. “Like, well, you know. So she’s completely stopped it; she goes out from work and sticks to orange juice and stuff, and that’s how it’s going to be. I know she talked to Uncle Mark about it. He can’t drink either.”

“Really?” Jack queried.

“Yeah, when he plays a gig, all the other guys have a couple of pints before they go on. He has a half of shandy. He says if he drank as much as they did, he wouldn’t be able to play.”

“Oh, I see,” Jack said. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Dinner’s ready!” Rachel called.

They made their way through. Rachel sensed the change immediately. Jack seemed more relaxed, more comfortable; maybe it was going to be alright after all. The meal concluded.

“Are you going to help with the washing up?” she asked Ryan.

“Leave it to me,” Ryan said firmly. “I’ll do it.”

He carried everything into the kitchen and closed the door behind him. When he returned, Jack and Rachel seemed to be getting on famously.

“Is it okay if I go round to Ashley’s for a bit?” he asked.

“Yes, okay,” Rachel said. “Don’t be late!”

He returned home just as Jack was about to leave. Jack gave Rachel an affectionate goodnight kiss and was gone. Rachel hurried into the back lounge room.

“What did you say to Jack while I was getting dinner ready?” she asked. “When he first arrived, he seemed very uncertain about us getting back together. Afterwards he was completely different; like he didn’t have a doubt in his mind. You must have said something.”

“I just told him you always keep your promises,” Ryan said casually.

“Thanks,” Rachel said warmly, giving him a hug. “You don’t know how important that is.”

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Tommy arrived at the swimming baths and checked his watch. It was three minutes to eight. He hoped that the guy would turn up on time. Waiting there on a Saturday afternoon was one thing, being there in the evening when it was dark was a different matter entirely. If he waited too long, some nosey copper might ask him what he was doing there. He could say he was waiting for one of his mates, but he knew it wouldn’t sound convincing.

The seconds passed slowly. He looked along the street. A black BMW drew up to the kerb, stopping right opposite him. He swallowed hard, walked towards it and opened the door.

“Are you Tommy?” the driver asked.

Tommy nodded and got in. The car moved away. Tommy looked across. The driver looked younger than Steve, a slim, good-looking guy with curly fair hair and a ready smile.

“Hi,” the man said. “I’m Martin. I guess Steve’s told you about me.”

“Yeah, a bit,” Tommy responded. “He said you like footballers.”

“Yeah, totally,” Martin said, grinning. “Which team do you play for?”

“Newton Valley Colts,” Tommy said. “I play for the school too.”

“Excellent!” Martin enthused. “What position do you play?”

“Central defender,” Tommy told him.

“Yeah,” Martin replied. “I’d have guessed that from your height. So you’re good in the air then?”

“Not bad,” Tommy said modestly. “My cousin’s better. He’s the same height as me but really springy. He can out-jump almost anybody.”

“Sounds great!” Martin bubbled. “So do the two of you play together?”

“Yeah,” Tommy confirmed.

The BMW swung onto Broad Street, heading west towards the suburbs. Pretty soon, Tommy hadn’t a clue where he was. A few minutes later, the car turned onto the drive of a neat detached house and came to a halt.

“This is my gaff,” Martin said smiling. “Welcome to it.”

They got out of the car. Tommy was surprised to find that Martin was of barely average height; somehow, he’d expected him to be bigger than that. They made their way indoors. Tommy looked around. It was very nice, though it lacked the wow factor that Mark’s place had.

“I’d have liked to meet you before,” Martin said, “but I’ve been out of the country so much these past few months I haven’t been able to fit it in. Still, I’m back now, so I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”

Tommy didn’t reply. It sounded as though the man might want to meet him regularly; he wasn’t at all sure about that. After a glass of coke, they headed up to Martin’s bedroom. With shoes and socks discarded, Martin set about undressing the boy. Tommy was happy to let him get on with it, the man’s touch firm but gentle.

“You’ve got a superb body for a thirteen year old,” Martin commented. “Absolute perfection!”

“You should see my mate Gary,” Tommy responded. “He’s got a great body.”

“Sounds like you fancy him,” Martin said, grinning.

“Yeah, I do,” Tommy admitted, “but he’s straight; he’s got a girlfriend.”

“That’s a shame,” Martin said. “So is he a footballer too?”

“Yeah, plays up front,” Tommy told him.

“I see you’re hard already!” Martin breathed, feeling Tommy up in his boxers.

He sat on the bed, quickly skinning Tommy’s underwear down his legs.

“Beautiful!” Martin purred. “Steve said you had a nice one!”

“Yeah, my boyfriend likes it!” Tommy said, grinning.

“You’ve got a boyfriend?” Martin queried. “How old?”

“Twelve,” Tommy said, regretting having mentioned it. “We’re in class together.”

“Not a footballer then?”

“Nah! He’s into music; plays the piano.”

“Cute?”

“Very!”

I’d love to meet him,” Martin cooed.

“You’ve got no chance,” Tommy said dismissively. “His mum and dad have got loads of money. He’d go apeshit if he knew I was doing this.”

“Oh, I see!” Martin said quietly. “We’d better keep it quiet then!”

He quickly undressed, revealing his thick seven inch cock, the head completely exposed. Not as big as Frank’s but not far off, Tommy noted; it looked most impressive on a guy of Martin’s size. They snuggled up on the bed.

“So you’re Kevin’s step-brother?” he questioned.

“Yeah,” Tommy said.

“Sounds like you don’t get on too well,” Martin observed.

“We get by,” Tommy responded.

“I had him a few times,” Martin said. “Nice fuck, or at least he used to be. Nowhere like as nice as you though; you’re gorgeous!”

He drew the boy into a kiss, their tongues intertwined, their penises grinding together. Martin’s hands massaged Tommy’s back and slid down onto the boy’s bum. Tommy found it very enjoyable, the man’s touch not rough, but definitely firmer than he was used to.

“Beautiful!” Martin purred as their mouths parted. “Steve told me how affectionate you were.”

He twisted around, taking Tommy’s cock fully into his mouth. He sucked it steadily, working his tongue all over it.

“That’s a beauty!” he said, finally letting it go.

“Want me to suck yours?” Tommy asked.

“Oh yeah!” Martin confirmed.

Tommy got into position, sucking it expertly. Martin gently stroked Tommy’s hair, basking in the wonderful sensations the boy was giving him. His breathing began to shorten. Sensing that the man might be getting close to orgasm, Tommy carefully released him.

“Wonderful!” Martin cooed. “I was nearly cumming!”

He picked up a carrier bag from his side of the bed.

“Put these on for me,” he requested, handing the bag over.

Tommy examined the contents, white Adidas football shorts and a contrasting black top. He slipped them on.

“Oh yes!” Martin said approvingly. “You look so sexy in those!”

Tommy grinned, not knowing what to say.

“I want you to call me ‘coach’, okay?” Martin suggested.

“Okay coach,” Tommy responded, still grinning.

“Bend over that chair for me!” Martin whispered, a note of urgency in his voice.

Tommy readily complied. Martin got off the bed and moved in behind him. He slipped his hand up the leg of Tommy’s shorts, pulling them aside, inserting two well-lubed fingers into the boy’s anus.

“You’re a naughty boy, aren’t you Tommy?” Martin breathed, giving the boy a solid finger fucking.

“Yes coach,” Tommy agreed.

“And you know what happens to naughty boys,” Martin growled. “They get coach’s cock up their cute little bums!”

The fingers slid out. A moment later, Martin’s erect cock was up inside Tommy’s shorts, the head homing in on his anus. With one determined thrust, Martin penetrated him, his cock advancing steadily into Tommy’s rectum until the boy was completely impaled. He began to fuck, drawing well back before slamming in again.

Tommy tried to stay relaxed, but the stimulation from Martin’s cock thrusting over his prostate while his own penis rubbed against the shorts was making him hornier by the second. In barely a minute, his breathing became harsh and ragged.

“Oh fuck,” he gasped. “I’m gonna cum!”

“Ohhh! He moaned, his anus clamping tight around Martin’s cock.

“Oooh! Oooh” Aaaahhhh!!” he groaned, spunk surging through his penis and soaking the front of his shorts.

“Oh, you naughty boy!” Martin crowed triumphantly. “Now you’re going to get your bum filled!”

However, he was far from finished. He ploughed on, fucking the boy relentlessly. A couple more minutes passed.

“Not long now!” he growled, his breathing short and uneven.

“Yeah, do it coach!” Tommy moaned. “Fill my bum!”

“Now take it!” Martin barked, burying his penis deep in Tommy’s bum. “Oh yes! Jesus!”

His cock reared up, several volleys of his thick cream coating Tommy’s bowels. After a few seconds, he withdrew.

“Push it out!” he ordered.

Tommy farted, a wet patch spreading across the back of his shorts.

“Wonderful!” Martin breathed. “You can take them off now.”

Tommy quickly pulled off his kit, handing Martin the soiled shorts. He hurried to the bathroom, finding it hard to believe how much this new experience had turned him on.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

With Josh’s parents out for the day, Josh, Ryan and Mark took the opportunity to hold their Saturday afternoon jam at Josh’s house. The session at an end, they began to pack away.

“I just need a quick word with Josh,” Mark said quietly.

Ryan shrugged. Mark ushered Josh out of the music room, following him up the stairs. They went into Josh’s bedroom, closing the door behind them. Mark produced a newspaper cutting from his jacket, handing it to Josh.

“Somebody you know?” he asked.

Josh looked at it. The photograph wasn’t great, but he recognised it instantly. He began to read, the colour draining from his face.

‘A City currency trader pleaded guilty today at Southwark Crown Court to the sexual grooming and rape of a twelve year old boy. Simon Warner, 33, who met the boy on the internet, persuaded him to pose naked in front of his webcam. Subsequently, Warner, who used the screen name Fantastic Mr. Fox, arranged to meet the boy, taking him to his luxury apartment in Limehouse where the rape took place. When the boy returned home, his parents became suspicious. After questioning him and examining his computer, they called the police.

Detective Inspector Alan Fletcher of the Metropolitan Police anti-paedophile unit said, “We’re pleased that a highly predatory paedophile has been brought to justice. This case perfectly illustrates the dangers that children face online, and we urge all parents to be vigilant in monitoring their children’s online activity. We also believe that there may be other victims; this man may have groomed other boys in the same way, and we would urge anyone else who has been in contact with him to come forward.”

Warner, who will be sentenced next month, was remanded in custody.’

“Mark,” Josh whispered, “that’s terrible.”

“Yeah,” Mark agreed. “He was a currency trader; he takes risks for a living, or at least he did. It looks like in this case he took one risk too many.”

“I don’t get it,” Josh said. “He never raped me, not really. The first time we met, when he said I didn’t want him to fuck me, he stopped.”

“So what does that tell you?” Mark asked.

“The kid said he could do it,” Josh suggested.

“That’s what it sounds like,” Mark said with a note of resignation. “That’s the problem with having a monster cock.”

“Yeah,” Josh said. “It hurt bad enough when he did it to me, and I’d been fucked loads of times. I bet the kid couldn’t walk afterwards. But is it rape if the kid said he could do it?”

“Legally it is,” Mark explained, “because of the boy’s age. I’m pleased to see you’re not crowing.”

“No, I feel sorry for him in a way,” Josh said sadly. “What’s going to happen to him?”

“He’ll be spending quite a few years in one of Her Majesty’s bed & breakfast establishments,” Mark said, “which will not be a pleasant experience. But it’s the boy I feel sorry for. He’s going to have the police and children’s services crawling all over him. The treatment he’ll get from them will be far more traumatic and potentially damaging than anything that this guy Simon might have done. I take it you won’t be coming forward.”

“No way!” Josh said vehemently.

“I thought not,” Mark said, smiling. “Fortunately, as long as the guy got rid of that webcam you sent him, there’s no way they can find you. Even if he didn’t, they’d have their work cut out.”

“Fuck!” Josh hissed. “There’s no way I’d want that happening!

“Yeah, that’s why I showed this to you,” Mark said. “It can be a dangerous world out there, which is why I’m as careful as I am.”

“Thanks,” Josh responded. “I’m going to have to learn, aren’t I?”

They made their way back downstairs. Mark and Ryan collected their things from the music room, and said their goodbyes, leaving Josh with much to think about.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Mark and Shaun stood together at the back of the Newton Valley theatre hall. After the opening set from a girl singer accompanied by a tidy but plodding band, Fireblade were about to take to the stage. Mark and Shaun had deliberately separated themselves from the other adults; as experienced musicians, they wanted to be able to make their comments out of earshot of less objective supporters.

“So you’ve never heard them before?” Mark queried.

“No, couldn’t make the gig they did in the summer,” Shaun confirmed.

“I was impressed when I saw them in rehearsal,” Mark commented. “They’re much better than I expected.”

“After putting four hundred quid towards Damian’s new guitar, I’m certainly hoping they’ll be pretty decent,” Shaun said a little acidly. “Anyway we’ll soon know.”

Barely a minute later, the five boys strode onto the stage. Zac, Ryan and Damian picked up their guitars. After a minimal final check, they kicked into ‘Love Hurts’. It was all there, the drive, the edge, the swagger; everything that rock and roll should be, Zac’s tortured vocals a classic expression of teenage angst. The song concluded to rapturous applause.

“Very sound!” Shaun commented “He’s a talented lad, being able to write songs like that.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Mark responded.

After a quick “Thank you!” from Zac, they launched into ‘Rain Keeps Falling’, received with equally enthusiastic applause.

“So do they do all their own stuff?” Shaun asked.

“I had to talk them into doing a few other songs to fill out the set,” Mark said. “Not straight covers though; they do their own arrangements just like we do.”

“So who sorts their stuff out?” Shaun asked.

“Josh mainly,” Mark said. “He’s an amazing musician.”

Several more songs followed.

“Okay!” Zac announced. “We’re going to do something a bit different. We think you might know this one.”

Ryan switched to his steel-strung acoustic to accompany Zac on ‘Eleanor Rigby’. It was a total triumph, Zac’s impassioned delivery holding the audience spellbound.

“That kid’s the real deal,” Shaun remarked. “Even I would be wary of taking that on.”

After a few more songs, the set moved towards its climax with Zac snarling his way through ‘Can’t Get Enough’, the band totally rocking. The crowd went wild.

“We’ve got one more song for you tonight,” Zac called. “So before we go, please give it up for Ryan Clark on guitar, Josh Banham on keyboards, Damian Reeves on bass and Greg Thornton on drums!”

There was more enthusiastic applause.

“Okay!” Zac announced, working the crowd beautifully. “This one’s called ‘In These Flames’.”

Even Mark could hardly believe how good it was, the arrangement superb and the performance simply stunning. They came to the final verse.

In these flames I’ve bought and sold,

I thought our love could not be saved.

In my pleasure was your pain,

I cannot stop these plans we made.

CHORUS

Now you say we should be so free,

Now you say we should try.

Now you say we should live in peace,

Do not ask me why . . .

I still love you!

They broke into the coda that Josh had added, the band playing a rocking two-bar riff, Zac plaintively wailing ‘I still love you’ at the beginning of each four bar loop, Ryan’s guitar screaming powerful, bluesy phrases in response, the boy playing with the swagger of a young Pete Townshend. Three big chords in rallentando brought them to a halt.

“I . . . STILL . . . LOVE . . .” Zac howled.

A tom-tom and bass drum fill brought the band back in on the word ‘YOU’, everyone jamming on the closing chord. A final cymbal crash and it was done. The crowd went completely wild.

“Thank you and goodnight!” Zac shouted.

The band hurried from the stage, leaving their instruments behind.

“That was fuckin’ amazing!” Shaun said quietly, applauding with everyone else. “Zac and Ryan have got a real presence on stage. Fantastic!”

“And they can all play,” Mark added.

“Yeah,” Shaun agreed. “I thought they’d be okay; I never expected them to be that good. And think what you had up there, three fifteen year olds and the other two only twelve! Un-fuckin-believable!”

“So we’re going to do it then?” Mark asked.

“Definitely!” Shaun confirmed.

The kids were still applauding, stamping their feet and calling for more. The band re-appeared.

“Let’s rock and roll!” Zac called.

They launched into a stomping, foot-tapping rendition of ‘Me & Julio’, with Josh using the Hammond organ sound. After three verses, there were brief solos from Ryan, Josh and Damian, followed by an accompanied drum solo from Greg. A reprise of the final verse brought the performance to an end.

“Goodnight!” Zac called. “Have a safe journey home!” the band leaving the stage for the last time.

“Well done boys!” Mike Russell greeted, grinning from ear to ear. “That has to be the best performance by any band since I’ve been here. I don’t think we’ll hear anything that good at the Upper School gig.”

Slowly the crowd began to disperse.

“Let’s go and see ‘em!” Shaun urged.

He and Mark made their way to the band room. The boys were sitting around looking totally drained.

“What are you guys doing on New Year’s Eve?” Shaun demanded. “Zac?”

“Dunno yet,” Zac responded.

“Greg?” Shaun continued.

“Nothing much, as far as I know.”

“As the other guys may have told you,” Shaun went on, “Our band does a New Year’s gig at the Crown & Anchor, not far from the University. In previous years, we’ve played a short opening set, around forty minutes. This year, we’d like you guys to do that for us.”

The boys looked at each other in disbelief; it was the best Christmas present they could have had.

“Oh yeah! That’s wicked!” Zac bubbled. “Guys, we’ve gotta do it!”

“Do you think we’re old enough to play there?” Damian questioned.

“If you’re good enough, you’re old enough,” Shaun said firmly, “and you were fantastic tonight. You’ll use our gear, of course, except for the guitars, cause there won’t be time to change everything over.”

“What’s the drum kit like?” Greg asked.

“Beautiful!” Damian gushed. “DW kit with Sabian cymbals, has it set up similar to yours. And don’t worry; you’ll be able to adjust it if you need to.”

“Yeah, great,” Greg acknowledged. “DW are the dog’s bollocks. I’ll just need to ask my dad if I can do it.”

“I’ve spoken to your mum,” Mark said quietly to Josh. “She’s fine with it.”

“Wicked!” Josh breathed. “I can’t wait to play Craig’s keyboard set-up.”

Within a few minutes the arrangements were made. The boys were all as high as kites. Their performance had been a total blast; being invited to open for Renegade was the icing on the cake. This would be a New Year’s Eve that none of them would forget.