Date: Sun, 22 Dec 2013 15:43:43 -0800 (PST) From: Harrison Westbourne Subject: THE RUNAWAY & THE DRAG QUEEN Thanks to all of those who have been reading my stories. I appreciate your continued support. This will be my third series to be posted on Nifty. May everyone enjoy this story as much as the others. AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is a fantasy involving consensual gay sex between young men and older men, as well as love among men. The people in the story do not use protection because diseases do not exist here. In real life, PLEASE ALWAYS USE PROTECTION WHEN ENGAGING IN SEXUAL ACTIVITY. Also, if this sort of material offends you, is illegal where you live, or you are under 18 years of age, PLEASE LEAVE THIS SITE NOW! This story is copyrighted by Harrison Westbourne. It can ONLY be downloaded for personal enjoyment, NOT for republication or sale and distribution. If you wish to provide feedback, comments, or suggestions, please feel free to contact me, using the story title as the subject line, at harrisonwestbourne@yahoo.com In order to keep this site free, please consider a donation by using this code: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html If you enjoy this story please visit my other stories at these locations INCEST / DARYL'S ENLIGHTENMENT http://nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/daryls-enlightenment/ ADULT YOUTH / WESTBRIDGE SPIRIT http://nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/westbridge-spirit/ THE RUNAWAY AND THE DRAG QUEEN: CHAPTER ONE (1) I've always been a fuck-up or so I've been told. My mother died from complications of childbirth so my dad was left to raise me. He wasn't exactly father-of-the-year when it came to me. I think he blamed me for Mom's death, which I understood to a point. Mom had a genetic defect with her heart that even she didn't know about. My maternal grandparents tried to step in but my father hated them for their money. His parents were long dead before I was even conceived. At this point, I should introduce myself. My name is Xavier Theodore Paulson. Yes, I know it's a rather posh name but that was the only thing my mother ever game me before she died. Her maiden name is my first and it makes my dad even madder when he thinks about it. He calls me Theo just to avoid saying it at all. That lasted all of five years when he got into a fight at a bar and went to prison for almost killing the other man. I ended up in the care of my grandparents who turned out to be religious nutcases. They attended church for hours on Sunday and firmly believed in corporal punishment. Children were meant to be seen and not heard so I stayed in my room unless called out. I was sent to an ultra-conservative catholic academy where the teachers believed in the philosophy of "Spare the rod and spoil the child." By the time I was 11, I had learned to keep my head down and my mouth shut. Another discovery was that I found men more appealing than girls. Their bodies were far more interesting and caused my heart to beat faster. My first experience with another boy was a neighbor from down the block. His name was Edward, or Eddie, and he went to the local public school. We had met when Grandpa took me for swimming lessons at the YMCA when I was about 6 years- old. His family attended our church and became friendly with my grandparents over post-sermon coffee. Eddie had an almost similar childhood of physical discipline and modest behavior. We were kindred spirits and he was one of the few children I was "allowed" to have for friends. For an 11 year-old, I was what you could call "classically cute" and I hated it, Cute is for babies and puppies, not little boys. On the scrawny side, I had ash blonde hair that was kept in a military-style cut and held down with styling gel. People commented on how fair my skin was and raved about my delicate features. My baby blue eyes were large and clear and my face was often called cherubic. Eddie, on the other hand, was more "ethnic," as Grandma would say. He was stockier and his skin had a slight olive coloring. With his green eyes and thick, black hair, he was almost Mediterranean in appearance. We had finished at the Y, swimming laps for our lesson certification, when Grandpa took us for ice cream because we both passed with flying colors. As a special treat, I was allowed to stay for dinner and a sleep-over at Eddie's house. His parents were so pleased about the swim class that we even went out for Chinese, something my grandparents really didn't like but I did. After eating, Eddie and I bathed separately and were allowed to play a couple of board games before bed. When it was time for bed, Eddie's dad had us brush our teeth and tucked us both into the large double bed with a warning to "Go right to sleep" after our prayers, of course. The house was deathly quiet as his parents and only other relative, a sister named Sara, were now in their rooms. Eddie was still awake and asked if I wanted to see something special. Nodding, he turned on a small light on his desk and pulled out a magazine from behind his dresser. Creeping softly to avoid the squeaky boards, he snuck it onto the bed and told me his dad had thrown it in the trash after his mom found it. It was full of all sorts of naked people. There were men and women, some even looked like teenagers. On some pages, men and women were having sex in every position you can imagine. We thought it was so naughty until we reached the last few pages of the magazine. The back page pictures had photos of people having sex, but they were two men. Eddie and I were shocked and our little dicks got a little hard. Neither of us had really started puberty yet but between our parents and teachers, we assumed it was a sin. The men were putting their penises in each other's mouths and butts and licking white stuff from them. Inside, it made me excited and I started rubbing my tiny member. Suddenly, Eddie says, "Let's try that and see how it feels." I was afraid, "What about your parents?" "We'll just be extra quiet," he said, removing his pajamas bottoms. So we got on the bed, naked from the waist down, facing each other's crotches. We couldn't make real semen yet but we were able to get hard. For part of the night, we experimented until both of us got sleepy. It felt good and I knew that was what I wanted for the rest of my life. Eddie and I continued to play at sex for a couple of years. Over the summer before we started our last year of junior high school, we were 13 years-old and messing around anywhere we could find privacy. We had become a little careless about making sure no one was around one afternoon. It had been a long, hot day and we went swimming at the Y. Since Eddie and I were among the stronger swimmers, we used to work as life guards for the younger kids. When we were leaving our shift, we rode our bikes over to the hiking trails by the river. There were a lot of places there that were well-hidden. Rushing to our favorite hiding place, we threw our towels on the ground and stripped off our clothes to have a quick fuck. For teenagers, we had progressed extremely rapidly in our sexual play, from blowjobs to anal intercourse. I found that I could be either a top or a bottom, but I think Eddie preferred to bottom. So we started out with a little mutual cock sucking before the main event. We got so engrossed and aroused that neither of us heard the two female joggers pass by the spot and see us. They didn't say anything, but ran to a nearby phone booth and called the police. You can imagine how shocked we were to have two huge police officers almost drag us out without our clothes. Giving us time to dress, we went to the station to wait for our guardians to come and get us. We had been put in two adjoining cells to wait and Eddie was softly crying. I was much too scared and afraid I would be beaten to death when I got home. First to arrive was Eddie's father, he came in cursing and screaming, demanding to see the queer of a son he had. All I could hear was how he always knew and that Eddie was sick. As he dragged him out the front door, I recall something about a mental hospital. My grandfather was far more composed. Calmly approaching the front desk, his voice boomed all the way to my cold cell. They came back to fetch me and I was led out with my head down and fighting back tears. Exiting the holding area, they had my grandpa sign the final papers and he merely nodded at me to go. Following him out two paces behind, we trudged to the car. The entire ride home he said nothing just drove with his knuckles turning white on the wheel. Once at home, he walked in holding the door for me to go first. I barely got my jacket hung up when the first blow came. I flew across the foyer floor, landing at the foot of the staircase. He grabbed me by the back of my shirt and threw me into the living room. My grandmother was sitting there with candles burning and the bible opened. She immediately started reading Genesis Chapter 19 Verses 1 through 11 about Sodom. The entire time my grandfather beat me with his leather belt as I responded with "Thank you sir." After almost an entire hour, they told me to go to my room and stay there until they called me. I walked until I reached the stairs then took them two at a time. Carefully closing my bedroom door, I fell on my bed and cried until I fell asleep. I don't know when my grandparents went to bed but I woke up around 3am. Quietly tiptoeing to the bathroom, I passed their room and heard them talking. It was odd for them to be awake so I stopped to eavesdrop. After five minutes, it became clear they were going to ask our priest for an exorcism. I knew the church had done it before and the child ended up in the hospital. Not wanting to be beaten and burned by candle wax, I walked to my room and thought. Finally, I grabbed my large gym bag and packed as many clothes and a spare pair of shoes as I could fit. Pulling my secret stash of birthday and allowance money from my hiding spot, I snuck quietly downstairs and put on my jacket tying my winter coat on my gym bag. Leaving the house, I left my home unsure of exactly where to go. Eddie's was out since I knew his parents were just as angry. I walked towards the train station deciding to head to downtown Chicago. Having no idea where to go, I boarded the next train into the city. Once on the train, I sat in a corner and cried until I reached Union Station. Getting off there, I just wandered the station for about thirty minutes until a policeman started paying too much attention to me. Heading out, I just started walking around trying to find a safe place to get some sleep. Finding a dark corner on lower Wacker Drive, I curled up behind some dumpsters and waited until morning. Morning came in the form of loud traffic rushing by my sleeping spot. I woke and started heading towards the lake. Along the way, I bought a cheep breakfast at McDonald's and headed further north. I heard there was a runaway shelter for gay/lesbian teens and decided to try and get there. Catching a bus, I got on and paid my fare finding a seat in the back. Getting off at Halsted and Belmont, I looked around for someone to ask for directions. Just then a young guy in a plaid shirt grabbed my gym bag and took off down the street. I tried to catch him but wasn't used to running so I soon lost sight of him. Now I was stranded on the street with no money, no clothes, and no place to stay. Sitting down on a set of steps, I couldn't help but start crying almost uncontrollably. Soon it started to rain like someone opened a faucet full blast. Maybe I should just start walking back home but would they even let me in? After a few minutes, I was shivering and trying to find a more sheltered place to get out of the rain. Walking down the street, I wondered if I should just jump in the lake and end it all. Turning a corner, I ran right into a tall woman in a bright yellow raincoat. Knocking her to the ground, I began apologizing as I helped her to stand up. She smiled and pulled me under the nearest awning to find out if I was okay. As I stood there crying she held me and rubbed my back telling me I'd be okay. Somehow I managed to blurt out my entire story in between sobs. This lady just said it's okay, you're safe now. After calming me down, she dragged me to her house. Once inside, we removed our wet coats and shoes. It was then that I first noticed the lady's voice was deeper and more like a man's She left to go grab some towels as I stood and dripped on the front tile. Returning with a handful of dry towels, she did something that confused me even more. Reaching up with one hand, this lady pulled her hair off and my jaw dropped to the floor. Sensing my confusion, she said, "Yes, I am a man in a dress." "What does that even mean?" I asked. Laughing, he said, "I get paid to dress in women's clothes and pretend to sing other people's music. Does that help you?" I just nodded and finished drying myself. Leading me to one of the bathrooms, he handed me a bathrobe and told me to take a warm shower and come into the kitchen while he washed my clothing. I closed the door and shyly stripped before entering the steamy tub. He called in to make sure he could take my wet things and then left. The warm water felt great after the ice cold rain and I lingered a bit longer than necessary. Getting out, I dried off and pulled on the robe. Heading towards the kitchen, I found a tall, thin young man with medium brown hair standing at the stove. He smiled as I entered the room and pointed to a seat at the table. Asking what I wanted to drink, he gave me a glass of coke and returned to what he was cooking. A few minutes later, he scooped out two large bowls of beef stew and set some rolls on the table before joining me. "By the way, my name is Jefferson Stanton. Call me Jeff." he said. "My name is Xavier Paulson." I replied. "Thank you for helping me." He smiled and asked what I was doing wandering around in the rain. I repeated the whole story more calmly and without crying. Jeff listened politely as I talked and ate, asking an occasional question her and there. By the time the meal was over, he had learned all about my unfortunate home life and decision to leave. Helping to clean up the table, Jeff said we would talk more tomorrow. He handed me some clean underwear, sweat pants and a sweat shirt to use. Showing me into a second bedroom, he gave me a spare toothbrush and left to get some sleep. Quietly dressing in the borrowed items, I went and brushed my teeth. As I was heading back, Jeff came out and asked if I needed anything else. I shyly said "No" and "Good night" before heading back to my room. Crawling under the covers, I lay there wondering what was going to happen tomorrow and started to cry. Jeff heard me as he headed to his room and knocked on the door. Coming in, he sat on the bed and held my hand, telling me everything would be okay. I don't know how long he stayed there for I soon fell asleep, mostly due to exhaustion. The next morning , I awoke to the smell of bacon frying. Forgetting where I was for a few moments, I stumbled to the bathroom and peed before washing up and looking for Jeff. Finding my way to the kitchen, he was standing by the stove in a tight pair of navy blue running shorts and skin-tight white T-shirt. His ass was so firm and round that I found myself starting to get excited. Before I could sneak away, Jeff turned and welcomed me in for breakfast. Telling me to grab some orange juice, I filled my glass and sat down quickly to hide my growing erection. He put a large platter of eggs, bacon and hash browns down before pulling basket of rolls out of the oven. "I don't usually eat like this in the morning," he started. "but I figured you might be hungry." "Thank you," I mumbled as we began to fill our plates. In the morning light, I couldn't help but stare at my host. Jeff was an attractive young man. He was slightly taller than me, at 6 feet even. His body was thin like mine but, through the tight clothes, you could tell he worked out. In addition to his medium brown hair, I became riveted by his smiling blue eyes. Something about them made me feel safe and loved, even though we hardly knew each other. When he smiled, his face lit up with an angelic glow that radiated calmness and compassion. JEFF'S STORY As we talked more, I learned he was 23 years old and had been kicked out of his home at 13 also. The big difference was that he fell in with a man who seemed nice at first. He took me in and fed and clothed me without asking for anything. That lasted a month or so, when he came into the bathroom while I was showering. He was naked and got in the tub with me. At first, he just washed me but then he demanded I make him "feel good" as he pushed me on my knees. From that time on, he regularly had me perform sex acts whenever he wanted. I felt that I owed him so I went along with the program. Eventually, he started asking me to service friends, for which he got money. That turned into being pimped out to any man he brought home. Jeff was softly crying as he continued talking. I stayed until one day he tried to make me have sex on film. When I refused, he took me in the bedroom, beat me, then threw me out on the street. "What happened after you got thrown out?" I asked, finishing my juice. Jeff continued, "Well, I was badly hurt and managed to crawl under a nearby stairwell." After that, I was found a couple of hours later by a pair of older men walking a dog. They saw that I was badly hurt and helped get him to an emergency room, even though I protested. They told the nurse I was their grandson and had been mugged on the way home. I was found to have two broken ribs, fractured right wrist, and numerous cuts and bruises. Once I got a room, the couple introduced themselves to him. First was Martin Wallace, a 65 year-old retired math teacher who looked a little like Santa. He was on the stocky side and had a neatly trimmed white beard. With twinkling blue eyes and wide smile, he was a pleasant, jolly fellow, who originally hailed from Houston, Texas. Second was Clive Chessman, a 67 year-old ancient history professor, born in Manchester, England. He was tall and thin but reminded one of a proper English butler. They asked Jeff what really happened and where I lived. Telling them about getting kicked out and finding the guy I met, I was crying loudly by the time I got to what led to me being under the stairs. Clive sat next to me holding my hand and promised that would never happen again. From that moment on, I was safe. They took me in and even got full custody of me through a well-connected lawyer friend. Martin and Clive had met at college and had been a couple for almost 40 years. They both had no other family and lived quite comfortably. I wondered how I could possibly repay them for their kindness. Martin smiled and just said that if I ever had a chance to help out someone else, I should do it. From that point on I only had to go to school, get good grades, and be a good person. When they both passed away some years later, I was shocked to learn they had left everything to me as their "grandson." XAVIER When he finished, I was crying for all the pain he went through and had managed to survive. He came over and took me into his arms and held me until I calmed down. This was the reason that he took me into his home and wanted me to be safe. Jeff explained that he planned to have his lawyer friend get him full custody of me as his nephew. He hoped to spare me the tragic events that he went through. I cried even more because I believed him and was beginning to love him. After we ate, we went to get me some additional clothing. I asked Jeff how he could afford to do all of this. He simply said that Martin and Clive had left him a substantial fortune and he didn't really have to work. I had lost everything so he was going to replace what he could for me. Also, Jeff decided that I needed a new haircut. A quick lunch was followed by more shopping for some women's clothing and make-up that Jeff needed for his work. He showed me a world I never believed existed and it fascinated me. We laughed and talked about my becoming his dresser for future stage shows. He said that he would teach me everything I would need to know. Once we were done with shopping, the next step was to meet his lawyer to discuss how my custody would be arranged. His name was Albert Graves and looked every bit the typical lawyer. Middle-aged, average build, dark hair with slight gray edges, and eyes that made you want to tell the truth, his looks belied a gentle, caring manner. We chatted about my name and family history, which he decided would have to be "altered." Coming up with a logical tale that made me Jeff's orphaned nephew, he set about obtaining the proper "legal" paperwork to assure that custody would be granted. We then entered a courthouse to file the necessary requests for adoption. A brief meeting with a judge and we left the court as a family. For the first time, I felt safe and loved. That was only the beginning of my new life and my emergence into a world where I truly belonged. TO BE CONTINUED... I know there wasn't any real sex in this chapter, but it was needed to establish the relationship between Jeff and Xavier. Future chapters will continue to explore this developing world. Thank you for being patient with me as I set the scene for future developments. Please consider a donation by using this code http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html If you enjoy this story please visit my other stories at these locations INCEST / DARYL'S ENLIGHTENMENT http://nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/daryls-enlightenment/ ADULT YOUTH / WESTBRIDGE SPIRIT http://nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/westbridge-spirit/