Date: Sun, 15 Aug 2004 18:42:07 EDT From: daddy2maggie@aol.com Subject: St. Nicholas House for Teenaged Boys - III This story contains vivid depictions of sexual acts. If this sort of erotica offends you, then you need to go to the Disney Website. If you are under the age of 18, then you need to go to the Disney Website. If, for whatever reason, it is illegal for you to view such material, you need to go to the Disney Website. Amskray! St. Nicholas House for Teenaged Boys - III Noah's cousin, Bobby, was the one who introduced Noah to prostitution. Although Bobby didn't particularly like sucking old men's cocks, he made good money doing it, and so he encouraged his cousin to give it a try. Bobby warned Noah to be careful not to get trapped by a cop, but Noah wasn't very good at judging such things. He got caught three times, and with three arrests, he wound up in St. Nicholas House. After a week or so at St. Nicholas House, Noah was busting at the seams to tell someone about what goes on in the house, and he knew his mother was not the one to tell. He decided to write to his cousin, Bobby. Dear Bobby, I thought I would write to you to let you know what's going on here at St. Nicholas. It's not so bad, actually. I kinda like it. And I'm safe here. People actually seem to care about me. I know ma cares about me, but she can't take care of me and my brother. I guess it's best that I'm here, at least for now. I go to private tutoring every day, which is really cool. My tutor for English is Matthew, a really happy guy. I like him the best. He hugs me. In fact, almost everyone hugs me. It's a huggy place. The goal is to make sure the residents feels loved. They want us to have the love we might not have had before we got here. Even the brothers, the other guys who live here, hug each other. That is taking some getting used to. My first day here, I was introduced to everybody, and learned that all the residents (they call us a family) are here because they got caught having illegal sex, usually blow-jobs, and usually for money. Even the guys who run the place were residents here about 25 years ago. They may sound old, but they're really good looking, especially Daddy Zach. Can you believe that we are supposed to call these two guys "Daddy?" There's Daddy Zach, a really handsome hockey-type guy, and Daddy Johnny, a really, well, kinda sissy guy, but he's really nice and is a really good cook. Daddy Zach and Daddy Johnny are like a married couple. Honest. They kiss one another in front of us, and call each other honey and sweetie and baby. Yuck. But they really are like parents to us. Daddy Zach helped me with my math homework last night, and Daddy Johnny really mothers us. Chad is the oldest resident. He's a senior in college. I didn't know college kids could live here, but they say a resident can stay here as long as he wants, up until he graduates from college. Chad is my friend. He helped me my first day a lot. He helped me do laundry, and helped me take a bath. He taught me the rules, and he even let me sleep with him my first night. I had been given a room with no roommate, and it was really creepy that first night. He really made me feel better. I really like Chad. And you know what, Bobby? When I woke up that next morning, you know, the morning after the day I got here, I discovered I had a wet dream. My underwear was crusty in the front, and you know what that means. I hope Chad didn't notice. That would have been embarrassing. Speaking of underwear, here's a strange one. There's a rule here that when we're in the house, we can only wear underwear. Can you believe that? We have to take our pants off when we get home from tutoring, or wherever we go. Chad says that rule was thought up years ago because guys were sneaking out. Since there are no bars on the doors or windows, they had to come up with some way to discourage the guys from doing that. They figured making them go around without pants would probably solve that problem, and I guess it has, because it's still a rule. And get this: I can't wear my boxers. I have to wear white briefs. Everyone does. I don't get it, but what the heck, if everyone under 18 has to, I guess I can. My bedroom is nice. It has a bed (duh) and a dresser, a desk, and a nightstand. I can put whatever I want to on the walls, within good taste, whatever that is. I have to keep the room neat, with my clothes hung in the closet, or folded in the drawer. Daddy Zach may seem really rough, but he's really a teddy bear. He has lots of hair on his chest. On my second night here, he came to my room, wearing only a pair of boxers, to ask how I was doing. It was night again, so I wasn't doing very well. Anyway, I guess Chad had talked to Daddy Johnny about how upset I was the first night, and Daddy Johnny told Daddy Zach. When Daddy Zach saw I wasn't doing very well, he walked over to me, scooped my up in his arms, and carried me like I was a little kid, down to the couch in the living room. He sat down, and cradled me like I was a baby. Kinda weird, but kinda nice. He was so warm, and he held me really close. He was talking all about how things were going to improve, when Daddy Johnny came in and handed Daddy Zach something. He told me, "Now, son, when one of the boys is having a bad day, or a sad day, and needs comforting, and we all do on occasion, we like to bring him down here and give them some old-fashioned loving." I just looked into Daddy Zach's beautiful eyes. Be bent down and kissed my lips softly, then he took that thing that Daddy Johnny had handed to him and tried to put it in my mouth. It was a baby's bottle, and it had milk in it. He was holding me like a baby, and now he was going to feed me like a baby. My face brushing against Daddy Zach's chest, I sucked on the nipple, and drank. It felt strange, but wonderful at the same time. I actually cried. I finished the bottle, and Daddy Zach rocked me to sleep. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in my bed the next morning. Chad told me later that day that quite often one of the boys would get bottle-fed by Daddy Zach, and if we saw that was going on, we needed to be really quiet. Punishments. Yes, there are punishments. For the guys over 18, they get privileges taken away. For the guys under 18, we get privileges taken away, too, but we also get spankings. I saw Billy, one of the boys, get a spanking the other day, and let's just say I hope it never happens to me. I guess Billy sassed one of his tutors, and that's against the rules. So Daddy Zach pulled Billy's underpants down, put him over his knee, and gave him five wallops. Ouch. Five times. Billy's 15. He's blond, like me, but taller. About 4 inches taller, I'd say. He's skinny, but has a pretty big peter. It started swinging when Daddy Zach pulled his underwear down. His butt got really pink, and Billy cried. I felt really bad. So did Daddy Zach, I think, because he told Daddy Johnny to get some sort of lotion, that he rubbed on Billy's bum, I guess to cool it off. After that, Daddy Zach hugged Billy and told him that he hated spanking us guys, but it was the rules. Billy pulled up his underwear, apologized, and then came upstairs. All the rest of us were standing along the railing at the top of the stairs in silence. Everyone felt bad for Billy. There's this one guy, Eddie, who got kicked out a week ago. I never met him, but I guess he did something really bad. Chad wouldn't tell me what, but I'll keep snooping around. There's a family portrait that was taken last Christmas hanging in the hallway right outside my bedroom. When I asked who he was, Chad just told me his name, and that he had been booted a couple days before. I guess that's a good thing, because he would have been my roommate. Then there's Officer Tommy. He's the one who brought me here. It turns out that he's Daddy Johnny's older brother. You'd never guess it. He's so muscular and manly, and speaks with a deep voice, like that guy who sings at church, unlike Daddy Johnny, who is, well, just the opposite. Ha ha. Daddy Johnny is skinny and swishy, and speaks in a pretty high voice. But, I have to say, Daddy Johnny has a really handsome face. I like looking at it. I like when he looks at me. He looks at me like he loves me. I can't imagine that he does, not quite this soon, but still, it's nice. We do stuff together. Like a family. We eat together, breakfast and supper. Lunch is on a rotating schedule, depending on our tutoring. When we go out, Daddy Johnny and/or Daddy Zach has to be with us. I can't even go out with Chad, and he's 23. On my second day, Daddy Johnny and Chad took me clothes shopping, and I got to pick out pretty much what I wanted, except for underwear. I had to get white jockeys. A bunch of us went grocery shopping. On Sunday morning, we all went to church. We had a choice. Daddy Johnny is Catholic, so some of us went to Mass with him. Daddy Zach took everyone else to a Protestant church. They tell me that sometimes everyone goes together to one or the other. It's interesting that there are no Jewish guys here, or guys of other religions. They tell me that sometimes we'll go to the movies, or to ballgames, or other special places. We're supposed to go to a Red Sox game in a few weeks. Remember that time we went to Fenway Park with the Boy Scouts, Bobby? We have to be upstairs by 9, and in our rooms by 9:30. 10:00 is lights out. 10:00 I reserve for jerking off. Ha ha. I keep thinking about how nice it would be to suck on Billy's peter, after seeing it the other night. I shoot my cum on my belly and chest, and usually let it dry there and shower it off in the morning. Oh yeah, that's another rule: I have to shower every day. Or take a bath. And we take turns doing the laundry. Chad showed me how the other day. I hope I can remember, because tomorrow it's my turn. Wow, I've written a lot here. Tell Aunt Kathy that I'm doing okay, but don't let her read this. She'll freak out. And don't tell ma. I'll write her a separate letter tomorrow. Write back soon. I miss you. Love, Noah If you enjoyed reading Noah's letter, and the previous parts of this serial, please let me know. Tell me your first name, and from where you come. Send an e-mail to daddy2maggie@aol.com Thanks for reading.