Welcome to my newest story on nifty. If you haven't read my first story titled "Allen" it can be found under the high-school section. I would recommend it because I have received many favorable e-mails to it.
This story is protected by copyright laws. Please do not copy it for distribution or post it to other sites without my permission. This story may contain sexual situations between adults and teens, or between young boys. If this subject offends you please leave now. If not, please feel free to e-mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org
Training Day - by tim
Shane Hopkins was walking to his home on Long Island after spending the night at the home of one of his older friends. It was a cold, blustery Saturday in January and the smoke from his cigarette hung heavy in the air. He knew he shouldn't smoke at only 14 years old, but most of his friends tended to be older so he naturally picked up the habit from them. Besides, if his parents found out it would give them one more excuse to smack the crap out of him.
There were a lot of things Shane kept from his parents, that's why most of his friends tended to be older. He just didn't feel most other kids his age could keep his secrets quiet. His biggest secret was the fact that Shane knew he was gay. That's what him and his 17 year old friend Toby had been doing last night. Shane just loved the feel of the older boy in his hands, plus Toby happened to be a sex machine. He knew his dad would hurt him badly if he found out because his dad was always ranting about fags and queers, and how they should get what they deserve.
As Shane rounded the street corner leading to his house he threw down his Camel and smashed it out on the sidewalk. He then took a swig from a small bottle of mouthwash he carried and spat it into the gutter. It wouldn't do for his folks to smell tobacco on his breath, they gave him hell last summer when he came home one day with a pierced ear. As he walked up the driveway he noticed his mom's car was gone, at least that much was going for him. When he walked through the door though, he was met by his father who seemed as though he were about to kill someone.
Phil Hopkins yelled out "Come with me you little shit!" and then led Shane back to the boy's bedroom. On the way, Shane noticed his two younger brothers also seemed to be gone. This made Shane very nervous. Once in Shane's bedroom Phil turned, pointed to Shane's computer, and shouted "What the HELL is the meaning of this?"
Shane gulped loudly and all the blood drained from his face as he looked at the picture of two young men in a 69 position on his computer screen. "Oh God! Fuck me." thought Shane to himself. "I must have forgot to delete my history."
"Well!" screamed Phil. "I'm waiting you little fag."
Shane cried as he tried to lie, saying he came across the site by accident and that he wasn't really looking at that picture. The truth was though, Shane had been looking at that picture. It turned him on tremendously and he had been jacking off to it the day before. Phil was not buying any of his son's cries though as he knocked his son to the floor.
"Do you think I spent my hard earned money on that computer so you could turn into some kind of queer?" screamed Phil at the now heavily sobbing boy. "What makes you think for one moment that I'm going to allow this faggot shit to go on in my house? I think you need to learn a lesson the hard way! I'm going to make you hurt so much you'll never even think of having sex with another guy again."
With that Phil scooped the boy up and threw him on his bed. He then ripped all of Shane's clothes off and proceeded to take out his thick, 8" cock. Then he forced himself into his own son without any lubrication. When it was over Shane was crying uncontrollably.
"If you think that was fun, wait until I bring Tyrone over here tonight." sneered Phil. "He's a hell of a lot bigger than I am, and he'll think your ass is fun." With that, Phil stormed out of the room and left the house.
Shane laid on the bed, unable to move from the pain. He thought to himself that his life was over if he didn't do something, so after a few minutes he forced himself up off the bed. He went to the bathroom to check for damage, and stuffed some tissue between his butt cheeks to soak up any blood that would come out. Then he went back to his room, got dressed, and gathered some clothes together in a duffel bag. Then he searched the house to find as much cash as he could. He had a bank account with quite a bit of money in it for college, but he would never be able to touch it without his parents permission. He was finally able to gather about one thousand dollars from various hiding places and thought to himself, "This will have to do." Then Shane quickly scrawled a note to his ex-family, telling them to take the money he took, out of his account. He also told them they wouldn't ever have to worry about him darkening their precious lives again.
Greg Holt made his way to Grand Central Station from his final meeting with his publisher for this trip. He never dreamt when he first started writing about a boy with psychic abilities that it would span 6 books and make him so much money. At 40 years old, he still wasn't much to look at, normal looks, normal build, but everyone knew his name. Now it was time to go home to Orlando and begin his next adventure. Greg didn't mind flying, it's just that sometimes he preferred to take the trip by train for a chance to relax. You can also get a lot more work done with your notebook on a train than you could on a cramped plane.
When the taxi pulled up to Grand Central, Greg got out, grabbed his bags and paid the driver. Then he set off to his platform. It was nearing 3:00pm and his train would be arriving soon.
Shane had arrived at Grand Central around 1:00 and first would have to figure out where to go. He didn't want to go somewhere where he would freeze to death, after all, what money he had would have to last him for a while. He looked at the destination board outside while he had a smoke. It looked like he would have to try for Southern California or Florida. He smiled at the thought of Florida, he had always wanted to go there. His parents had always thought Florida was too cheap and touristy for them to ever vacation there. Okay, decided Shane, Florida it is. It looked as though there was a train leaving at 3:15pm, so now all Shane had to do was find someone to pose as his father and buy him a ticket without ripping him off.
Actually Shane had no problem finding someone to pose as his father at least as far as New Jersey. Once he laid on his sob story, showed off his bruises, and batted his beautiful brown doe eyes a few times, the man was happy to help him. He even told Shane if it weren't for his family, he would ask Shane to come stay with him. The nice man even bought Shane a few packs of Camels to hold him over for a while.
Once everyone was on board the train and it departed the station, Greg began stowing his few bags away in his berth. He did keep his notebook out and made sure it was charged though, as he would be needing it soon. Greg used the lavatory to freshen up a little bit and then smoked a cigarette. He knew he wasn't supposed to smoke in the berth, but if he turned the ventilation up to full who was going to know. Besides, he hated the smoking lounge. It was cramped, crowded, and uncomfortable, and the reason he took the train was to be comfortable.
As soon as Greg was done, he grabbed his notebook and headed off for the lounge car. Greg enjoyed the scenery for a few minutes while he sipped his drink, then settled in to get a few hours of work done. At this point he was just outlining his new story about his boy psychic, Johnny Newton. This time Johnny would be helping an Egyptian boy who was in deep trouble. Greg's books always contained plenty of action and intrigue, and kept his mostly young fans on the edges of their seats. He felt this could be one of his best books yet, and his publisher also had seemed excited about it.
By the time Greg decided to take a break to stretch his legs and have a smoke, the train was in southern New Jersey. It was not uncommon for Greg to lose track of time when he was working on a book. So Greg stood up in the aisle, but before he could grab his notebook he was knocked to the floor. Greg got up, shook himself off, and turned to see who had knocked him to the floor. He was shocked to see a young boy picking himself up from the floor. Greg scanned the boy for a few moments. He looked to be in his early teens, about 5'4", with deep and shiny medium brown hair. The hair was long in the back and covered most of his forehead in the front. And those eyes had to be the most beautiful, rich brown eyes he had ever seen. The facial features seemed to resemble the boy on that 60's show about a family in outer space. He also had one small gold hoop earring in his left ear. The boy seemed to be very scared as he stood up.
"Are you okay?" asked Greg. "Did you get that bruise on the side of your face just now?"
"I-I think I'm okay." replied the boy. "The bruise is from earlier today, sir."
Greg thought the boy seemed nice and polite so he continued, "What is your name young man? Where are your parents?"
"My name is Shane," replied the boy, "and I hope my parents are rotting in hell, sir!"
"Oh-oh trouble", thought Greg. "So I take it one of your parents had something to do with the bruise." stated Greg. "Are you running away from home now?"
"No sir." said Shane. "It's more like I'm getting away, before they kill me. The bruise is just the start of what they were going to do."
"What now?", thought Greg. "I can't leave him like this, can I?" "Well, I was headed back to my berth for a smoke break. Would you like to tag along and talk some?" asked Greg.
"Actually" replied Shane, "I could use a new place for a smoke break myself sir. When I was in the smoking lounge the porter caught me and took my open pack away from me." For some reason Shane was starting to trust the stranger he was talking to.
Greg remarked, "Aren't you a little too young to be smoking?"
To which Shane shot back, "I'm 14, besides, aren't you a little too old to be smoking?"
"Ha-ha." laughed Greg. "You got me with that one little buddy. I'll make you a deal, I'll lay off the 'too young' stuff if you don't make any more 'old' remarks, and please stop calling me sir. It's nice that you're so polite, but my name is Greg and that's what you can call me."
"It's a deal sir, I-I mean Greg!" exclaimed Shane.
So Greg led Shane back to his berth. Greg sat on the bunk enjoying a smoke while watching Shane, who was sitting on the jump seat enjoying a smoke as well. Greg had to admit, he was a little intrigued about the boy who followed him back to his berth. Shane certainly didn't seem to be a novice at smoking, and he was beginning to wonder what Shane's story was. After all, all runaways had to have a story.
"So," said Greg, "how long have you been smoking, Shane?"
"Since near the end of the last school year." replied Shane.
"Is that why your parents put that nasty mark on your face?" asked Greg.
"No." responded Shane, a little more softly. "It was for something else, and I got more than just the bruise on my face." Shane was now fighting to hold back his emotions.
Greg could see Shane was close to becoming upset, but that only meant something was seriously wrong. Greg now felt he had to know what it was and help the boy. Greg said "I know you don't really know me yet, but I would like for you to tell me what is wrong so I can help you. What could have happened to cause your parents to hurt you so badly and cause you to end up with no place to live?"
Shane didn't know whether to trust Greg that much or not, so he said "If I tell you why they did this to me, you won't want to help me anymore."
Greg now had to reassure the boy so he replied, "I promise you Shane, that won't happen no matter what you did. To prove that to you, I want to tell you something about me. I'm gay, Shane. Please don't worry, or go off yelling pervert. I don't want to take advantage of you, even though you are an attractive young man. I really, really, do want to help you."
Shane now began crying, and sobbed out "PLEASE help me! My parents found out that I am gay, and they hurt me really bad. Please, please, help me! Make it stop hurting Greg!"
Greg began sobbing quietly himself, while he took the hurting boy into his arms and let Shane cry into his chest. The boy continued to cry for about ten minutes as Greg rocked him and softly patted him on the back. Greg gently reassured the boy, "Shane, my poor little Shane. I promise I'll take care of you and make it better. Please, my sweet boy, let me help you."
Shane's crying gradually eased up, and he was able to croak out "For some reason I can't explain, I trust you Greg. Will you really take care of me? That would be so great."
"I will take care of you, little buddy." said Greg. "And I'm glad you trust me because the first thing we need to do is get some pictures, to insure that you never have to return to the people who did this."
"Okay," replied Shane, "if you say we need to, I'll go along with it."
Shane proceeded to remove his shirt and pants, while Greg dug out his digital camera. He always carried his camera on any kind of trip, because he never knew when he would need it. When Greg had retrieved the camera he began taking pictures of the bruises, which were spread out over most of the boy's body.
When Greg thought he had finished, Shane said "My father also hurt me in one more place."
Shane removed his boxers and Greg admired the boy's four and a half inch, limp, uncut penis. Then Shane turned, bent over, and spread his cheeks apart. Greg almost became sick to his stomach at the sight of Shane's swollen and bruised anus. There was also still some blood around the pucker.
"Please hurry!" begged Shane. "This is beginning to hurt."
Greg shook himself out of his shock, and took several pictures of Shane's badly damaged anus to make sure he had clear evidence. Then Shane put his clothes back on and Greg drew him into an embrace again.
"Don't worry my angel." soothed Greg. "I promise no one will ever do that to you again if I can help it. Now, let's go get you moved to my berth."
"How are we going to do that?" asked Shane.
"Don't worry about a thing." said Greg. "I just need you to point out the porter who took your smokes earlier. Then, just watch me work."
"Cool!" exclaimed Shane. "Can we have another smoke first though?"
After Greg and Shane finished their cigarettes, Shane led Greg back through the train. Once Shane had spotted the porter and pointed him out, Greg then went in search of the conductor. Then Greg and Shane led the conductor back to where the porter had been spotted.
Then Greg began, "I want you to explain to me and the conductor why you are harassing my son, and taking his belongings from him!"
"I don't know what you're talking about mister." said the porter.
"Yeah you do!" piped in Shane. "You took my smokes from me earlier today. That's them, right there in your shirt pocket."
"What are you people, crazy?" remarked the porter.
"I would appreciate it if you did not call me or my son names like that!" insisted Greg. "You took my son's smokes earlier today, show him yours son." Shane showed the conductor a pack of his cigarettes, and they did indeed match. Greg continued, "I am this boy's father and it is my decision, and not yours, as to whether or not he smokes. Do you know who I am? I'm Greg Holt, and I could buy your puny little railroad if I felt like it, and throw the lot of you out of here!"
By now Shane was staring at Greg with a strange look on his face. He just realized he has been hanging out with Greg Holt, the writer. The writer whose books he had been reading for years.
"If this is how my son is going to be treated, just because I have him travel incognito, then I certainly will never travel with your railroad again!" shouted Greg.
Shane was still staring at Greg when the conductor said, "Please, Mr. Holt. We certainly do know you, and I assure you that this is not how our employees are permitted to behave. When we get to our final destination the porter will be dealt with."
"That's good and well," stated Greg, "but that doesn't help the fact that my son's cover has now been blown by one of your employees! I want my son moved to my berth immediately, and I want your assurance that he will not be harassed any further!"
"Yes sir, Mr. Holt!" said the conductor, humbly. "You have my assurance that the boy will not be harassed for the remainder of the trip. He may move to your berth right away."
Greg and the conductor shook hands, while Shane scrambled back to his original seat and grabbed his bag before anyone figure out what him and Greg were up to. Greg Holt, he thought to himself. I can't freakin' believe it! Everyone he knew read Greg Holt's books, and now he was going to be staying with Greg Holt!
Once Shane returned, him and Greg returned to the berth so he could stow his bag away.
"Damn!" exclaimed Shane. "You could have told me I was traveling with THE Greg Holt! I almost blew it for us back there."
Greg smiled and chuckled, then said "I didn't know if you would know who I was or not. Besides, I didn't want that to influence our conversation earlier. I'll bet by now though, you could probably get away with buying beer on this train without being carded. But don't you dare try it!"
That's the first chapter of my new story. Remember to e-mail thoughts, comments, and whatever to:
See you all in chapter two. Please remember "Allen" is my main story and it will be my primary concern until it is wrapped up. I promise I will not forget about this story though.