Date: Tue, 14 Feb 2017 21:19:26 +0000
From: honey_im_back@hushmail.com
Subject: Sascha part 4

Sascha 4

This is a work of fiction; any similarity with places, people and events in
the real world is coincidence. If you are not old enough to read this then
why the hell are you still here?

Remember, this is fiction, not real, I do not condone the sexual abuse of
minors, do not go out and try anything you read here in the real world.

All actors in this tale were over 18 at the time of printing!

I hope this entertains you, and I would love to hear from you with
comments, positive or otherwise.

Thanks for all the emails that you have sent, it is only a good response
that spurs a writer on to complete his work!

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link to donate at the top of the Nifty Homepage.

Once more I wish to apologise to all my readers for the delay in posting
this, the real world gets in the way sometimes, and without input from
Sascha I am unable to recount the story fairly. I hope that we will be able
to continue the story, and that it is to your liking. If you don't email me
then I'll never know how our work is being received!


From part 3;

I helped Sascha sort his things and put them away, before admiring the art
work he had brought with him. Then he showed me the picture he had been
doing of Sam, on the computer. I was stunned, not only had he captured Sam
perfectly, but the nude was near to perfect, even though he had never seen
Sam undressed!

"Sash, how the hell did you manage to draw that, it's as if he had posed
naked for you?" I asked in amazement.

"When Sam went for a pee I got a quick look through the half open bathroom
door!" my little angel told me.

So there I was, looking after a sexy little boy who was gifted, both as an
artist and a singer, along with what appeared to be a photographic memory!

Part 4
The past rears its ugly head!
By Peter Pumpkin Eater

Alone at last we decided to turn in as it had been a very tiring day for us
both, we slept in each others arms, but that was all we did, sleep! We
spent the next of the day getting to know each other better, and I told
Sascha my story, once I had heard his. We both cried a lot, but it drew us
closer together. The boy still tried at every opportunity to get me to have
sex with him, in some form or another, but I remained firm.. well I
remained HARD, but apart from a lot of hugging, kissing and cuddling,
nothing happened between us. He also taught me a few words of Slovenian,
including 'I love you' (Ljubim te) and 'Please may I have some chips?'
(Prosimo, da se imam nekaj ˛etonov) as well as the typical young lad
thing of teaching me some swear words, 'do you fuck little boys?' (ti jebi
de?ki?)

Dickie surprised me when he knocked on my door at 7pm, with a bundle of
papers, as well as several books.

"Right Sascha," my brother said gently, "I hope you don't mind but we
changed your name to Carling, you are now Sascha Carling, you have a
mixture of papers here, some are quite genuine, and some are the forgeries
we needed to get the genuine ones! I didn't know your date of birth, but I
chose the birthday of your mother for you, I thought it better not to use
too much real information, so your birthday is not April 29th, and since
you are 14, you were born in 2001"

"That IS my real date of birth!" he laughed, I do not need to remember a
new date! I was born on my mothers 15th birthday!" he said brightly, before
the realisation hit him that his mother was no longer there.

"We used some of the real documents we found at your old house and with the
ones we "made" we managed to get some real papers made too. You will be
able to register at any school now, you could even go back to your old
school, if you wanted?"

"No there I go never back!" Sascha spat, "The only real friend I had there
was Uncle Brumbrum, so I will miss no one!"

"These adoption papers are also genuine Peter, I called in a massive favour
or two, and Judge Rander agreed to rubber stamp the papers for us. It is
amazing how far Dad's influence still reaches, the Judge was not one of our
brothers, but Dad rescued him off the streets and found him a wonderful
home. Now he has returned the favour! Dad also found homes for 2 girls,
twin sisters, now they both work as Child protection Social Workers, and
slipped the paperwork through the system! They will be in touch, all new
adoptions have social workers involved and they have taken on Sascha. Don't
worry about your Sexuality Peter, they also bat for our team, so you have
100% support from them!"

Initially both Sascha and I were overwhelmed by all of this, in an
impossibly short time the boy had gone from being a Slovenian illegal
immigrant, a street kid with no future, an orphan destined for an early
grave to being a bona fide adopted child, who would soon also have a
British Passport!

"I think this calls for a celebration" I said, "how does Pizza sound?" I
asked my new son.



"Yesss!" he shouted, "fresh pizza from a plate, instead of out of the
dumpster!"

I was shocked, and didn't know how to react until the little monkey burst
out laughing, "Ha got you!"

It's funny how things can come back to bite you isn't it?

We got to the pizza restaurant and Sascha was a little hesitant to go
in. "What if someone recognises me in there?" he whispered.

"Sascha, you are my son, no one will say anything!" I assured him. If only
I had known.....

The meal went well and we were all 3 stuffed when Sash needed the boys
room. I pointed him in the right direction and sat chatting to
Dickie. Suddenly there was a shout, "Daaaaad he's hurting me!" Dickie and I
leapt to our feet and rushed to see what the problem was.

Outside the men's room a huge security guard had a tight hold on my boy and
was talking into his radio. "Yes I got the little bastard this time, he was
inside, no doubt looking for the staff cloakroom to steal wallets! We can
either call the cops or take him into the office for some more fun!"

"You, let go of my son!" I shouted.

"Ha, your SON? That's what you pedo's call your rent boys now is it? Or are
you his pimp? Either way he is coming with me, he has been stealing from
the shops here in the Shopping Centre, and I have him bang to rights!"

"Listen you thick shit, he is my son, Sascha Carling, this is my lawyer,
now let him go before you get yourself in a whole heap of shit!"

The wannabe cop took a swing at me, but because he had the boy in his right
hand the punch he tried with his left was telegraphed and he failed to
connect. Dickie had his phone out and was calling the police as the rent a
cop was calling for backup. Both arrived at the same time, meanwhile the
diners at the restaurant were getting a free floor show.

"Right what's going on here?" the Police Sargent asked.

The security guard started to shout that he had caught Sascha stealing and
that I was a paedophile who 'claimed' to be the boys parent. The officer
spoke into his radio and then asked "Who is Mr Richard Long QC?"

"That is me!" Dickie replied taking out his court ID papers.

"Well what exactly is this all about?" the Sargent asked.

On hearing Dickie's title (QC) and also seeing the court ID card the
security guard went a deathly shade of pale, I was almost ready to tell the
cops to call an ambulance.

"I came here with my client and his son to celebrate the final papers
granting Sascha's adoption. The lad needed the bathroom and the next thing
we hear is him screaming. When we arrived the rent a cop here was crushing
his arm, while he spoke on his radio. He was planning on taking the boy to
his office for sexual favours!"

"What the FUCK?" the guard said,"I told the office to call the police as we
have been chasing this boy for a few weeks now. He keeps stealing food from
the bins outside, and other things as well!"

Dickie pulled a small dictation machine from his pocket and played back the
guards radio call, "Yes I got the little bastard this time, he was inside,
no doubt looking for the staff cloakroom to steal wallets! We can either
call the cops or take him into the office for some more fun!" The tape went
on to play the comments about us being Sascha's clients, or his Pimps.

I turned to Sascha, praying that he would catch on and said "ti jebi
de?ki?" indicating with a nod the security guard.

„Da Papa" he replied and winked. I quickly whispered to Dickie that the
boy had indicated that the rent a cops use street boys.

„It might be worth checking the security office, there will be
recordings of the radio conversation there. I want this man charged with
assault, attempted indecent assault on a minor and slander towards us. I
will give you this as evidence" he said offering the cop the dictation
machine. Just then the guard grabbed his radio and called „Cops coming
get the kids out of there!"

He was, however too late, officers had gone to the control room to ask to
view the CCTV of Sascha's alleged thefts, even before we had made our
identities known to them. Finding the doors locked, the officers had
knocked, but a radio message to them telling them to enter with force, as
there may be children in danger, changed things. I knew that this was
exactly the kind of interest we didn't need, but there was nothing to be
done!

„I guess we are going to find out just how good your forger is?" I
whispered to Dickie, but he simply smiled, and placed a soothing hand on my
arm.

Since it was of no further importance to Sascha, or I, we asked if we might
go home.

„I just need to take a few details Sir!" the police officer in charge
told me, „and I believe the General manager of the shopping centre would
like a word too"

We gave the cop the relevant details, and Dickie even showed him the court
papers, confirming the adoption, all of which was noted.

Then a vaguely familiar man approached us;"Peter,Dickie" he smiled, shaking
our hands,"So nice to see you again, though I wish it had been under
different circumstances!"

„I'm sorry, you seem to be at an advantage, you look familiar, but I
can't place you!"

The man laughed, „Yeah I was blond last time we met... Dave, Dave
Goodjar. Uncle Dennis found me a home, and I was only with you guys for
like 3 days! And who is this smart young man?" he asked turning to Sascha.

„Well nice to meet you again Dave, I have to confess I still don't
remember much about you, but if you were one of us, even for a couple of
days, then you're family!" I told him, „This young man is my son Sascha
Carling, Sascha this is Dave Goodjar!" I introduced.

„Nice to meet you Sir!" Sascha said, taking the offered hand.

I was surprised at this as Sascha had up to now been wary of strangers, I
looked at him and he saw the question in my eyes.

„Dad, I have learnt that if you like someone then he is OK, and if
someone knew Grandpa Dennis then he MUST be OK!"

I hugged my son, realising once more just how intelligent he is.

Dave however looked very confused and whispered to me "I though you were
Gay? And where did he get that cute accent from?"

Sascha beat me to it, "Papa is Gay, not that it is anyone's business, and I
am adopted, that is what we were celebrating here today. I come from
Slovenia, but lost my Mama, and Peter took me in. He is the first man to do
something for me without expecting payment!" the boy said rather
scathingly.

"SASCHA!" I reprimanded rather too loudly but Dave raised his hand to stop
me.

"Young man you are so right, it IS none of my business, and I apologise
unreservedly to you and your Dad for anything I said out of turn!"

I tried again to speak to Sascha about the way he spoke to Dave, but was
cut off again, "Peter you have a very mature and intelligent son, who
sounds as if he won't take shit from anyone, be proud of him for sticking
up for you! Now young man, you have been wronged by my staff, and I know
your Uncle Dickie will see to it that they have to answer for that in the
courts. Irrespective of that, and without prejudice I would like to try to
make it up to you. Is there anything that we sell in any of the shops here
which would make you even more happy than you are already today?"

Sascha was going to say something and lifted his hand to point, but then
lowered it and said "Thank you Sir, but I need nothing!"

We all looked in the direction he had started to point and the only shop
there, apart from a women's clothing store was a bike shop. "A bike? What a
great idea! Every teenager should have a decent bike!" Dave enthused and
started off towards the shop.

Sascha stood, blushed and the started to sob quietly "papa, what will I
have to do for him? Will he be gentle to me?"

"Dave!" I called, "hold up I need to settle the bill here"

"Mario!" Dave called, "put their bill on my tab, and please give each of
your guests here a drink, on me, for the disruption to their meals!"

Many of the restaurant guests rose and applauded but Sascha cried all the
more at this "I've cost Dave a lot of money, he'll surely want payment from
me now!"

I pulled my confused son tightly to me and hugged him; "Sascha, Sascha, my
little Sash, how can I make you see, most people are not looking for any
'payment' from you. Dave wants to repay YOU for the harm and hurt that his
staff have caused you. He wants to see you smile, to see you happy. Just as
I do!"

The boy thought for a moment and then nodded, "I think I
understand. Perhaps I should say sorry for being so rude to him, and I am
sorry to you, for being rude to your friend, who was just being nice to
me!"



I hugged the boy again, afraid for a moment to answer, as I would surely
have broken down in tears, because of his hurt, and because he is so damned
cute, and clever with it! We hurried to catch Dave up, and before he could
enter the shop I stopped him. "Dave, hang on please, just a moment!"

Sascha walked up to him and offered him his hand; "Sir, er Dave, I would
like to say sorry for my outburst earlier, I was not thinking, and I am
truly sorry!"

"Why, thank you Sascha!" he said as the boy interrupted him.

"Dave, if I am to call you Dave, then I would like for you to call me Sash,
as all my true friends do. With your permission though, I would like to
call you Uncle Dave, since Grandpa Dennis rescued you, and that makes you
one of his 'Boys' making you my dads brother, and therefore my Uncle! In a
strange way Uncle Denis rescued me too! Dad please would you explain it to
Uncle Dave?" the boy rattled off.

Daves face was a picture, his jaw was pretty much dragging on the floor at
Sascha's comments; "Firstly Sascha , er Sash, thank you so much for saying
that, though it was not necessary. You had just been attacked and were
clearly upset. Peter, did you put him up to this?"

"No 'Uncle Dave', I had no idea he was going to say that, he is wise beyond
his years!"

"Well thank you again Sash, I would like very much to be your 'Uncle Dave'
now let us go and find you a bike shall we?" Dave said, regaining his
composure.

"Uncle Dave" the boy said hesitantly, "You don't need to buy me a bike you
know. I have done nothing to deserve one!"

"Well Sash, that is where you are wrong! By saying that you didn't deserve
one, just shows that, unlike many teens, you are not out to get anything
and everything you can. I would like to buy you a nice bike, to say sorry
for what my staff did, and wanted to do to you, and because it is an
Uncle's duty to spoil any Nephew that he suddenly finds. So I'll hear no
more of it, you're getting a bike, and that's that!"

Sascha looked confused for a moment as Dave's words sunk in, and then he
leapt at the man, jumping to grab him around the neck and giving him a huge
kiss, on the lips, while soaking his shirt with the gushing torrent of
tears! The feeling of warmth and happiness it gave me to see my boy so
happy was indescribable.

Once Dave managed to untangle himself from the bundle of energy and love
that is my boy we went into the bike shop.

"Hello Roger!"

"Hi Dave, what can I do for you today?"

"Roger I would like you to meet my adopted nephew and his dad, one of my
foster brothers; Roger this is Sascha and Peter Carling!"

"I'm honoured to meet you Sascha, Peter!" Roger said, "Family and friends
of Dave are friends of mine too!"

"Thank you Sir!" Sascha said shaking the man's offered hand, and I followed
suit.

"Roger, Sash has not got a bike, and we are here to remedy that!"

"OK, what sort of bike?" he asked looking at Sascha.

"Oh, one with 2 wheels please Sir!"

We laughed, coming from any other teen that would have been sarcastic to
the point of rudeness, from Sascha it was an innocent answer!

"What I meant Sascha, was would you like a road bike, a BMX or a mountain
bike?" he explained.

"Well Sir" the boy started and was interrupted;

"Sascha, my name is Roger, or if you feel uncomfortable with that then Mr
Hudson, but not Sir please!"

"Sorry Mr Hudson, I didn't mean to insult you! As we have no mountains
around here, a mountain bike would be pointless, and I have no idea what a
BMX is, I think a bike to ride on the roads would be best for me. No?"

We all 3 had to stifle a laugh at that and Roger went on to explain exactly
what each of the bikes was, showing the boy examples of each type. "You use
a 'Mountain Bike' on the roads too, though not so much a BMX" I explained
to the boy "A BMX might not have the safety features needed for road use!"

Mr Hudson looked a little hurt at my last comment, "Of course we can fit
lights and mudguards to a BMX, if that;s the type of bike you wanted,why
don't you look around and see what we have?" he offered the boy. As Sascha
started to look at the bikes Roger turned to me and asked, "What's the
budget Peter?"

Before I could answer, Dave replied, "No I'm treating the boy, the budget
is, whatever it costs to get the right bike for him. My staff were very
unkind to Sascha and I want to make it up to him, so there is no price
limit!"

Mr Hudson smiled and went across to a beautiful black road racing machine;
"Careful Dave, this is carbon Fibre, it is a ViAS pro racer from
Specialised, it is a specialist racer, with a 6k price tag!"

Full marks to Dave, he didn't bat an eyelid, "So? I said he can have any
bike he wants and I mean it!"

Just then Sascha called out, "Uncle Dave, Mr Hudson, I like this one, if it
is not too expensive?"

We crossed to where Roger had a number of second hand bikes for sale. Sash
was looking at a well maintained Carlton Racer from the 1970's, with Campag
12 speed and a beautiful leather Brooks saddle.

Sascha looked hopefully at his 'Uncle' but misread the look on the man's
face. "I'm sorry Uncle Dave, if it is too much then I'm happy with that
one", he said pointing to one that was standing by the door, waiting for
the Scrap man to collect it!

Roger crouched down by Sascha and said, "Why did you choose this beauty?"
as he patted the saddle on the Carlton.

"Well Sir, it is very much like one we found in the house I used to live in
with my muu..." Sascha started, fighting off the tears, "I rode it to
school a couple of times and cleaned it all up, but the bullies at school
wrecked it! It was the first bike I ever had!"

I think we all had to fight hard to keep our composure as the boy told his
tale.

"Sascha, you can have any bike you want in here, even that carbon racer
over there! I don't mind, I want you to have the very best!"

"Uncle Dave, that is very kind of you, but what if those bullies see me
with a brand new bike, they will try to wreck it, or steal it, for sure!"

Roger looked across at us, smiling, "Well the problem is this bike is not
for sale! It already belongs to the most charming, well mannered and
unpretentious young man I ever met! Maybe your Uncle Dave would like to get
you the safety items you need to have with it?"

Sascha looked confused, "but WHY?" he asked.

"Sascha, you could have had any bike in the shop, you were even offered the
most expensive bike I have to offer, but you would rather have a bike which
is less likely to get stolen, and I respect that. Most kids today would
have milked it for all they could, but you just asked for what you felt was
best for you!"

Sascha burst into tears again and ran to the shop keeper; "Thank you Uncle
Roger, thank you thank you! And I am sorry if I have offended you Uncle
Dave, I know you wanted to buy me a bike, but this one is perfect for me!"

Dave hugged the lad too and started to gather padlock, lights and tool kit,
along with saddle bags and panniers. "Roger, will he need a rack for the
bags here? Oh and please show him the very best helmets and gloves that you
have too!"

Roger went back to the racing section and brought over several top of the
range helmets. "This is for one of the best there is" he said holding a
brightly coloured helmet, "Unlike most other helmets, which are tested for
a 12 mph crash onto the kerb, this is designed to withstand a 45 mph crash"

"Surely he won't be going THAT fast?" I asked,

"No but if he is doing 12 MPH and is hit by a car doing 30, then that's an
impact speed of 42!"

Sascha heard all of this, but then saw the price tag on the box, £140!
"Uncle roger, don't you have any seconded hands helmets?" he asked in his
own charming way.

"No Sascha, NEVER EVER use a second hand helmet, you don't know if it has
hidden damage which would make it unsafe. Your Uncle Dave, quite rightly,
asked for the best, and this is it!"

"Sascha!" Dave said sternly, "You will not talk me out of this, you are
getting one of these, no further arguments!"

Mr Hudson totalled up the bill and showed Dave. "Are you sure Roger, the
helmet alone cost more than that!"

"That's trade, I could not, with a clear conscience charge you full price
for things for this wonderful lad.! Sascha, if you would like to help me,
we can fit the lights and things for you before you go, if you have time?"
he added looking at me.

I suddenly realised that I was not going to fit the bike in the car, and
said so.

"Look if you don't mind waiting I'll fit it all, and adjust the saddle for
Sascha, and I'll follow you home in my van! That way Sascha can see how to
do basic maintenance on his bike at the same time!"

Sascha and Mr Hudson went to the workshop area and started to work on
fitting the new items, and checking the bike for Sascha to use it. As I
waited I spied a Coventry Eagle, a vintage racing bike from the '60's which
was exactly like one I used to own when I lived with Dennis. I looked at
the paper tag on it, £25! I quickly gathered up the same lights, tools
and so on that Dave had bought for Sascha, as well as finding an identical
helmet that fitted me too.

"Roger, please could you also fit everything to this one for me. It is
identical to one I owned as a boy. I left it at Dennis's when I went to
Uni, and never even thought of it again."

Roger came and looked at the bike, before breaking into a huge smile. "I
knew I recognised the name, Peter Carling!" he opened a drawer and took out
a small tool kit along with a number lock. He handed me the lock and
smiled.

I looked at it for a second and then twisted the numbers on the lock to
6971, and lo, the lock opened! Roger opened the tool kit and pulled out a
piece of paper, written in a very familiar childish scrawl;

This is the property of Peter Carling. If found please return! Beneath was
an address and phone number.

"Oh My God!" I cried, "Where did you get this?"

"It was part of a job lot of bikes I bought from a Police Auction, it had
been seized along with a number of other stolen bikes, and the owner never
claimed it, so they sold it to me!"

I pulled out my credit card, and thanked Roger for looking after the bike
for me. He would not hear of my paying for the bike, and also only charged
me "trade" for the other items.

I joined Sash and Roger in the workshop area, after thanking Dave, and
inviting him to us for dinner sometime."Try keeping me away!" was all he
said.

Once the 2 bikes were fully kitted out, we loaded them into the van and
Roger followed us home. Sascha helped unload them and then, after looking
through my garage for the things he needed set too and washed and polished
both bikes! I almost had to drag my boy away, when it was time for bed, but
a very happy, tired little boy curled up on my lap in the lounge, falling
asleep before he could even answer my question, "What would you like to do
tomorrow?" I knew, of course the answer before I asked, he would want to go
for a bike ride, and to be honest I wanted to too!