Date: Sun, 16 Nov 2003 09:45:03 -0500 From: Tom Cup Subject: Stephen Miller's Journal by Tom Cup - Chapter 7- A/Y, Incest Copyright 2000-2003 by the Paratwa Partnership: A Colorado Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive, Florissant, CO 80816 This is a fictional story involving alternative sexual relationships. If this type of material offends you, please do not read any further. This material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names, characters, locations and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ************************************************************************ What's New at TomCup.com? The Innocents: Paulo and Beto Chapter 15: Added 11/14 Age Before Beauty Chapter 6: Added 11/13 Lion of Bolognia Chapter 7: Added 11/12* Lion of Bolognia Chapter 6: Added 11/10* The Innocents: Paulo and Beto Chapter 14: Added 11/05 Airport Voyeur by Adam Bricker: Chapter 5: Added 11/04* Lion of Bolognia Chapter 5: Added 11/03* Lion of Bolognia Chapter 4: Added 11/02* Short Story: Tricked and Treated: Added 10/31 Labor of Love by Peter Wiggins Chapter 2: Added 10/20 The Nasty Boys Club Chapter 2: Added 10/12* Airport Voyeur by Adam Bricker: Chapter 4: Added 10/07* The Innocents: Paulo and Beto Chapter 13: Added 10/07 Calvin: Indentity Crisis Part 2 Chapter 1 Added 10/3 Raptors by Richard Dean Chapter 10 Added 9/28* Lesbian Files: Changing Seasons Chapter 3 Added 9/23 The Nasty Boys Club Chapter 1: Added 9/22* KOA Boy Chapter 9: Added 9/16 Article: A stick in the Queer Eye: Added 9/14 *TomCup.com now offers an Executive Club membership! Check it out at http://www.tomcup.com! ************************************************************************ Stephen Miller's Journal By Tom Cup Chapter 7 Allegiance December 8, 1992 The last week has been an alternating of performed favors between the doctor and Jon. Robby refuses to have sex while the cameras are running and as much as I can tell they are always on. Dr. Ritten's temper has begun to show more and more as Robby has no fear of baiting him. Jon has intervened twice when the yelling between the two seemed on the verge of exploding. I think if I can get to the tapes, that if it came down to it, that Robby would deny I ever did anything to him. I don't know about Jon. He seems aloof, dispassionate, calculated about the whole affair. It's as if he couldn't care one way or the other how ultimately the situation is resolved. Although he has said that he likes me, I don't sense that his liking me commits him to any action on my behalf. He likes me like he likes French toast, if it's there in the morning he will eat it, if not he'll find something else to eat. The only emotion I sense from him beside sexual rapture is, only in rare moments, sadness (or is it regret. I can't be sure). There is still a wall of cautious familiarity that stands between Jon and I. We have once again learned to enjoy each other's bodies, and on cue, but that is Jon's ability, to make my body respond to what it knows feels wonderful. So I have become Jon's willing partner again. Dr. Ritten is another matter. I think he delights in making our sex play rougher than it needs to be. I've asked Robby not to antagonize him because he is roughest with me when Robby is kind to me, or is defensive of me. Anyway, he hurts. December 10, 1992 Met the first of Dr. Ritten friends today, or should I say patients. Dr. Ritten sees only high profiled people with `sexual dysfunctions'. Of course their insurance policies pay the good doctor well for these therapeutic visits but the doctor can fetch much more from the tapes of the encounter. It isn't blackmail. Most are repeat customers that like to watch themselves sink into Robby or Jon. If they don't want to purchase the session, Dr. Ritten deletes it. He knows they will be back again and again. Where else can they have a prescription to have sex with teenaged boys filled? Robby told me most of this as we comforted each other one night. "Going to the cops is stupid," Robby said after turning up the music in my room so that we could talk naturally while lying in each other's arms, "I've fucked the police commissioner and the mayor. I think Jon has had both at least twice and I know Dad would have never destroyed those tapes, no matter what he says. That won't work. If we want to get out..." "We? Wait a minute..." "Yes, we. And don't wait a minute me. I told you before that I love you. I'll help you but we have to make sure I can go too." "Robby.... How the hell can I even think about that? I don't want to think about my trying to get away. Your Dad scares me. I don't know what he's capable of." "I do. And believe me that you want to get out. Look Stephen, it's not just the police commissioner and the mayor but we've done judges, lawyers, social workers, you name it, so do you think you would stand a chance when Dad decides that it's over for you? He'll produce the tapes and have one of his colleagues sign you off as a `sexual predator,' mentally reprobate, and incurable. Do you think anyone will ever make a fuss? No, because the case will be heard in closed chambers to protect the victims of your crimes, namely Jon and me, from public spectacle. And not only that Stephen, but the prosecutor and the defense lawyer, your lawyer, will be working for Dad. Hell, the judge you will be standing before will be in Dad's pocket, he'll make sure of that. You'll be tucked far away in some basement padded cell, given your meds on time, and kept quite. Long enough in those conditions and you will believe that this is all your fault. Hell, Stephen you believe that now." I nodded. It was a sobering thought. Even after I did everything that the Doctor wanted, he had no intentions of letting me go. I would end up in a cell after all. "So what difference does it make?" I asked, "If what you're saying is true, why shouldn't I go to the police? Why shouldn't I turn myself in?" "Do you love me, Stephen?" "Robby." "Please answer, please." "Yes. I do love you." "Then don't go to the police. You're right, it would be better for you but it would not be better for Jon or me. There are oodles and oodles of film of Jon and me engaging in every imaginable sexual activity. They'll put us away to be examined. I don't know if I can lie well enough to be considered sane when it comes to sex, I fucking love it. And Jon does too. I would rather die than to be made to believe that I didn't really want to do the things I've done, or that I didn't really enjoy them, or I was just conditioned to enjoy them." "That might be true." "Bullshit! People aren't conditioned to enjoy sex they're conditioned not to enjoy it. Every religion in the world has some taboo about some sexual activity. Why? Because if there wasn't a taboo people would be doing it. Why? Because sex is fun, we don't need to be taught that, our bodies tell us. I've seen a mother changing an infant's diaper and the kid springs a boner. What's she supposed to tell an infant that can't even say `ball' that he shouldn't be thinking nasty thoughts about his mother? The kid doesn't know what sex is but he sure as hell knows what feels good, his body knows. So as he grows up we start filling his head with how he shouldn't play with himself, and how God frowns on masturbation, and how he shouldn't have sex until he's married, and how sex with the same gender is wrong; and on and on until he's wound so tight he doesn't know what to do with his own cock, until he feels guilty every time he springs a boner. And you think I've been conditioned to feel how I feel? I'm sane about it. I love my body. I love the feelings it gives me. I'm not fucked up in the head but most of the rest of the world is. You are too, Stephen." "What?" I laughed nervously. "You are. You won't let yourself love me... no, no, just listen... you won't let yourself really love me because you don't think a thirteen-year-old can make rational decisions about something that is his. My body is not public property. It's mine. I don't give a damn about what the mucky mucks say. My body is mine and if I want to play with it, or if I invite a friend to play with it, it's nobody else's fucking business. But you have been conditioned to believe that it is. You need to get your head on straight." I sighed. "Yes, in theory you right but in practicality..." "Practicality? Practicality? What the fuck does practicality have to do with sex? Sex is fun. People don't spend hard earned money to go to a baseball game or play golf or go bowling because it's practical. They do it because it's fun, it makes them feel good." "There are laws, Robby." "Fuck'em." "You can't just say `fuck'em'" "I just did. They're bad laws, unreasonable and against human nature. If enough people realized that and stopped acting like just because someone makes a law it needs to be obeyed then the world would be better place." "You don't mean that." "Yes I do. When you wanted to go to college and sent the mucky mucks all the papers they required, you also had to sign up for selective services right?" "Yeah, so?" "So, when you turned eighteen, they made sure that they were able to put a gun in your hand and send you off to kill people you didn't know, but they made it illegal for you to buy a beer. That's fucked up thinking, Stephen. And you went along with it because you are condition to accept their bullshit. I say, if you can't enjoy a beer at eighteen then what gives them the fucking right to order you to sacrifice your body for them? They don't want you to start enjoying what is yours until they say so and you go along with them. Well, fuck them. I'll do with my body what I damn well please." I had to laugh. Everything he said made so much sense. He was so adorable when he was this serious. I kissed him. He looked at me startled. "Why'd you do that," he asked. "I don't know. I just felt like it." Robby smiled. "Cool." "I feel like making love to you too." He sighed and his smile got bigger. We hadn't had sex together since Dr. Ritten had revealed the sting. Robby refused to have sex with me because he knew the situation bothered me. "You know he's watching," he said. "I know but fuck him. I want to do it for you and for me. I don't know. Just shut up, OK?" I smiled, "So can I fuck you or not." Robby laughed recognizing my twist on his own words. "Come and get me," he said. I moved on top of him. We were interrupted by a knock on the door. It was Jon. Dr. Ritten wanted to see me immediately in the study. Robby was pissed and bolt out the door before either Jon or me could calm him. Jon shrugged and followed him. ************ Robby was in the study yelling at a rather amused looking Dr. Ritten. Sitting on the couch, looking rather amused and staring at the monitor of Robby's now empty room, was Dr. Ritten's patient, a man called Griffin. I don't know if that is his real name. I doubt it. "Now Robby," Dr. Ritten said as I entered the room behind Jon. "Fuck you," Robby said as Jon reached for him, but Robby turned -- glared once at Griffin and then at Jon -- and left the room. Jon followed him. "Well?" Dr. Ritten said to me. I turned, locked the door, and the ritual began. December 9, 1992 Griffin was OK. I think I was wound up because of my conversation with Robby but I did manage to enjoy myself with him. After I stripped I had to put on a ballerina outfit. Griffin was so turned on seeing me in the outfit that I thought he was going to cum before he even got me on the couch. Anyway, he didn't last long and was pleased. Dr. Ritten walked me to the door, with his hand on my shoulder like a loving father, and told me how pleased he was that I was getting into the spirit of things. I'm confused now, I have to admit, because I did like it. It was... fun. I don't know what's happening with me. One minute I want to get away and the next I'm thinking it might not be bad to stay. I am really fucking confused. December 10, 1992 I was supposed to spend the night with Jon but he told Dr. Ritten that he wasn't in the mood. I was expecting Dr. Ritten to take me himself but he said that I could do with the night what I wanted though he wanted me to stay on the grounds. Jon, Robby and I wound up watching movies together in my room. Still not sure how that came about but it was a nice, (normal?) evening spent together. None of us talked. We just watched the movies together. December 11, 1992 OK. I've been thinking. I'm going to try to rig the door to the study. I want those tapes. I haven't figured out what to do with them but I want them. I am not going to be suddenly sent to some asylum. No fucking way. Robby showed me where the cameras, and the blind spots, are located in my room. I'll have to be careful but I am practicing on my door, placing tape over the catch as I enter and removing it as I leave. I haven't told Robby what I'm planning, I'm not sure how he's going to react, but the more I think about it the more I am convinced that I have to trust him. I need help and Robby wants out too. If I get the tapes then there's a chance we can both walk away. At least, that's what I'm hoping. December 12, 1992 Spent he night with Jon. God, he's something in bed. But that wasn't really the great thing. After we were done, he turned to the camera and said, "I want to spend some time alone with Stephen." I am not sure if Dr. Ritten turned the camera off or not. I was nervous because this was so out of character for Jon. "Look," he said, "It's not going to help your trying to play Robby against us. He may love you but blood is thicker than water. You get my meaning?" I nodded. "Good," Jon said, "Play along Stephen." "I have been. I've been doing everything I'm told." "You've been playing at playing along. Don't fuck with us. I mean it." Again I nodded. "What did you say?" Jon asked looking more like his father than I would have thought possible. "Yes sir," I whispered. "That's a good boy," Jon said, "now get back in bed." We laid in the dark. Jon wrapped his body around me as I stared at the ceiling. Again I was feeling trapped. I don't know how long we were lying there. I thought that Jon had fallen asleep when I heard him whisper, "I said that shit cause Dad might have still been watching. Listen, don't do anything stupid. You'll get hurt and maybe even Robby." "He wouldn't hurt Robby," I whispered back. "I'm not so sure. But I can tell you guys are plotting and Dad's not stupid." I nodded in the dark. Jon curled up closer to me. "Accidents happen, Stephen," Jon said, "Don't become an accident." ************************************************************************ Send comments to: comments@tomcup.com To support this and other stories by the author, join at http://www.tomcup.com. If you like this story, check out Tom Cup's "Calvin: A Coming of Age Story." Available at Barnes and Nobles Bookstores, Amazon.com, your local independent bookseller, or get a signed copy from Tom Cup.com.