Our hope is that every homosexual youth in this country can find a home
and someone to love them as they are. Does your mother know you're reading this shit?
Warning: This story is PORNO. I have tried my hand at friction, now I'm trying fiction. This story contains vivid descriptions of sexual activity between men and teen boys. If you are underage, or if this is illegal where you are, then please go away. If you're under 18, Adios come back when it is legal for you to read this smut. A strongly worded suggestion has resulted in this statement. Thus said, this story is copyrighted, ©2005-2012. It is therefore illegal to copy or use any part of this story on any other web site without my written permission.
No one deserves to be discriminated against, no matter what their differences from society's norm.
A tidy quote from chapter 137
"titles belong on books, not people" ©Carl Dickson—2007
It contains no truth, partial truth, or half truth. What it does contain is stroking material. If this kind of story turns you off, or offends you, please find something else.
The author does not encourage or condone sex between adults and underage children.
If you lied about your age in order to access this story, remember this is our story. Life doesn't always work out like a story.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either
are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitioiusly,
and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
You may download the CHEROKEE TONT for free at this link. Dowload it, install it, then enjoy seeing the TSAIAGI names in this story. This font is included in the full version Send an e-mail for it.
"PUPPIES! Daddee, puppies." All of the little guys were glued to the television news story about three hundred puppies being rescued from a puppy mill operation busted by the police. The Humane Society was asking for donations to help cover the cost of caring for the abused animals, many had to be put down. Each of the boys wanted to give the Humane Society a million dollars, but after a long talk they agreed to send one hundred dollars to the animal shelter, each.
I had been looking for something to take the boys' minds from an unpleasant task that was facing me. The news was carrying a story about a current measles outbreak with sixty one cases reported in the county. All of the boys from Europe had received a battery of inoculations upon arrival in this country, but none of them had received the follow up shots that had to occur a year later.
I contacted the Humane Society then I made out checks on the account of each boy before loading the smallest and youngest into the Escalade for a trip to the shelter. I called ahead and asked for the local administrator to be available to the boys. I made it very clear that there was to be no media coverage and no pictures of anyone except the small boys themselves.
Dr. Tip has become the boys' primary physician and it was at his office that the boys received their shots. I had made a big deal out of reminding the boys that we would go to the animal shelter afterwards. Roddy stepped up and told them that no babies could go so if they cried they could go sit outside so that they couldn't get no tears on no puppies. It worked, we didn't have a single tear, but we had some very big eyes that watched every move that the nurse made.
I left the boys in the waiting room when I met with the shelter administrator and showed her my badge; I explained our need of anonymity. Twelve boys under thirteen made the presentation of twenty checks, they delivered checks from their older brothers that did not want to go with us. The boys were given a tour of the facilities and my fears came to focus as I was begged to allow them to take a puppy, or twenty, home. I was a proud papa when Roddy stood up and told them that we did not have room for even one dog and he did not want to hear everyone fighting over whose turn it was to feed the dog or clean up after it.
The administrator had a treat planned for the boys. She appreciated the fact that we were a boys' shelter and could not adopt even a single dog so she did something that made all of the boys squeal with glee. The smaller pups were placed into clean kennels away from the public's view and the boys were allowed to sit with puppies crawling all over them for one hour. All of them smelled like puppy piss, but they were very happy. I sat and let my emotions run as I watched each of them laugh and squeal to his little heart's content as twenty five pups of many different breeds enjoyed themselves as much as the young human pups in the kennel with them.
I felt that the humane efforts to the Humane Society deserved some form of special treat so I took the munchkins to their favorite pizza emporium and fed them pie and quarters for the video games. Two hundred dollars later the boys were ready for an ice cream cone from the Dairy Barn. It was a warm day and ice cream would be a treat. I sat back and basked in the brightness of young smiling faces, but I wished that I could invade that establishment with all of the boys. Soft serve ice cream cones know no age limit.
I had to explain why the state had announced a $5,000 cash reward for information on animal fighting. Roddy thinks that cock fighting is fun and can not understand why the state's attorney general would want to put an end to it. He changed the subject when I told him that men paid to see cock fights that ended in death for one of the participants then asked him if he wanted to fight.
Please don't spread this around, but women are scary. I only mention this to you because my responses to this story only seem to come from old married men that are so heavily closeted that they don't even know if they are gay or not. The impression that we get from the mail that we receive is that our readership consists of frustrated old men that may, or may not, have had a few private moments kneeling before a school chum as they had a taste of the good stuff that makes life worth the shit that all of us go through. We are not ready to produce a world full of fag boys to the current world politic so we have to be very careful in our assessment of the dickless ones. But take it from Cory and me, women are fucking scary.
Our house was pandemonium on Thursday night, the fifteenth of May. The news story of the day was about the California Supreme Court's reversal of a lower court's decision that put the same sex marriage measure on hold until statewide elections could be held to let the voters decide about the law. That ruling opened a window for same sex weddings without any residency requirements. Even Roddy and Dane were making their wedding plans before the night was over, they started with the honeymoon as they served each other their bountiful booty in their bedroom.
Sabbath afternoon the seventeenth Cory and I sat quietly as we played with our young sons at Cory's house, which is the home of our wives. Of course RD was there with Quemela, those two are very much into each other and it is clear that RD is deeper into Quemela than he will let on, but one look tells me that they are doing the deed. Sagi nearly broke Cory's heart when she ran her fingers across his chest and told him that she understood where he was and that she would always love him, even after the divorce.
Cory was off of the sofa and on his knees before her as his tears soaked her skirt. He wanted to know why she was divorcing him. Daylight looked at me and I knew that they had been talking, too much. Women are very insecure and even constant reassurance from the man that they love will not convince them that all is well and copasetic.
The girls had decided that they would not stand in the way of Cory and me fulfilling our fondest desire to wed one another. Even in their five and a half month condition Cory and I had to take our wives and prod them along for several hours as we spurted out our love to them over and over again all afternoon and overnight.
RD won't turn seventeen until August, but I know that he and Quemela want to get married to each other. RD loves his brothers and he is always seen to take as much as he gives. He is in high demand to give, but he turns tail and tells them that it is two way street or it is a dead end friendship. Every boy in the house respects that and all of us love him, often. However, RD does not have one particular love interest. He only has eyes for Quemy, they spend time together everyday.
My son showed more of his intelligence when he took me aside and told me that Sagi and Ugitsiha were only thinking of us when they offered the divorce. I held him close to me and let him thrill me with his solid teenage body while I listened to everything that he had to say. I took him out to the hobby room of Cory's house to poke a little fun at him. Actually I made him do the poking, he says that he is the only father mucker in the family. Cory and Roddy dispute that, but he reminds them that he is the only one that is my blood son with a dick big enough to do the deed. That hurt Roddy the first time that he heard it, but RD made it up to his little brother when he gave him an all day pony ride.
In truth, as much as Cory and I love each other we have no plans to ever separate from our wives. They mean the world to both of us and we love our sons as well as the two babies that will appear to the world sometime in late September. It was after midnight when Daylight told me that she believed me. Cory and I both sighed with relief as we walked together the next morning to rejoin the family at home. RD ran through the tunnel and caught us just before we entered the theater and we let him come between us as both of us wrapped an arm around him and told him how much we love him.
That was the way our plans began for a summer such has never been seen in my family. I thought that nothing could ever top our trip to Bag boys in the summer of 2005. Our romp through the woods in July of 2006 was another big event, but the summer escapades of the house of happy fairies in 2008 will be a long time being bettered.
Being twenty times richer than any other individual on the face of the planet makes one a magnet for every seed peddler in the world. I have mentioned before that all of my calls go through the FI switchboard and my name and address are not listed anywhere. That does not seem to slow sales people down.
I had been impressed with the Boeing 777 that had returned my family home from Europe. It was a bit cumbersome and slow for my personal tastes, but it brought my precious little fellows safely across the big pond and into my field of vision once again. Somewhere along the line somebody decided that I was in the market for a larger airplane.
While I do like the idea of getting all of my boys from point A to point B at one time, and as quickly as possible, I am still frightened at by the inherent dangers. An old adage warns against placing all of one's eggs into one basket and I have almost eight hundred eggs. Each little man carries two close to the very center of his body for my pleasure and I will not allow them to be cracked, let alone broken.
Airbus™ knew that theirs was the answer for me. An Airbus A-380-800 would meet my needs for years to come. With a mixed seating capacity of five hundred and twenty five passengers in three class level seats I could get all of the boys to their destination with a single flight. If I wanted to go with only the economy class seating package that could be increased to, as much as, nine hundred seats. That caused me to shake.
Airbus made a convincing argument when they told me that more of Europe's major airports were able to land the large plane. Then they lost me when they told me that they could not land at Mainz or Brighton at the present time. However it was only a few hours by bus or train to my destination. I thanked them for my time and left their wide eyed faces questioning what I had said.
I had several contacts with the Boeing offices in Chicago and I asked about touring their plant in Everett, Washington. I talked to my main man and he suggested that I should take my son on a solo trip, he thought that Roddy and I should go alone. I asked him about RD and he told me that the boy would be a basket case if he were to be separated from the apron strings that he was tying about himself.
I slipped into my boy's bed after he had spent an evening with Quemela, there had been a little less than an apron between the two of them. I had to play dad as I asked him if he was ready for fatherhood. He stopped undressing with his pants about his knees and stared at me.
"Dad, I can't describe how she makes me feel. I have never had these types of feelings before. I love you, I love you so much that I hurt inside when I think of you. I can not bear the idea that we may ever be separated. Daddy, I never had you for all of my life and I was the happiest that I have ever been when mom told me that she was bringing me here to live with you.
"She was dying, dad. I lost her to gain you. I knew for two years that she was dying so I was a little ready, but I didn't want to loose her. I could not help her dad. Nobody could. She went to lots of doctors and she took lots of medicine, but she just got weaker and weaker." RD sat down beside me, with his pants down around his knees. I could smell pussy on him, not just girl and perfume, but straight pussy juice.
"Dad, could I be chasing after Quemy because I need a mother replacement?" I knelt before him and removed his shoes and jeans then led him to the shower. He giggled at me as I scrubbed his boy parts of any foreign matter then we returned to his bed. Cory was sitting beside me with a cup of coffee when I awakened the following morning.
"So, are you taking Rod to Washington?" I had to blow him for that one.
My little man child is more mature than many men that I run across in the course of my life everyday. He was waiting at the breakfast table wearing a shirt and tie under his school sweater. I told him that I would rather him not wear his school name on the trip as I was not prepared to announce to the world who we were or where we came from. His lip dropped and RD got down on his knees and the two of them talked in Tsalagi.
RD asked Cory to help him as Rod sniffled and told them his story. Suddenly the three boys rose and ran from the room. In moments they were back and Rod was dressed in a suit and tie. He was going on a business trip with his father and he wanted to dress up so that I would be proud of him. He got the tightest hug and hottest kiss that I could muster between my body shaking and my pride in the boy. I will tell you that he is much more than I deserve.
I walked alongside a ten foot tall gentleman as we moved through the airport under heavy security. I have become wider known than I am comfortable with so I am constantly surrounded by guards. There have been many death threats against me and those around me will not let me place myself in harm's way. I am at the point that I have less of a private life than my young nephew, King Cullen.
My people, Jimmy et al, have informed me that protocol dictates that I wear the ribbons of my decorations when I am out before the public. I would rather go naked than draw attention to myself, but I guess that Cullen was correct when he told me that were I naked I would really attract attention. I placed my badge case in the breast pocket of my suit so that the security officers of the airport could readily see it as we were whisked from the front door directly to the jetway leading to our plane by a driver in an electric cart. FIS people were in carts before us and behind us, I felt as if we were drawing unnecessary attention to ourselves.
I could not understand why I could not make use of FI-2 and draw no attention to myself. Andy gave me some song and dance about not having the proper clearance to land in Washington and needing more lead time and a lot of other smoke as he grinned through each lie. I know the faggot too well and knew that he was up to his eyeballs in duplicity and it was all aimed at me.
We were directed to the VIP lounge where we waited until all of the geese were boarded. Rod acted as my official taster as he carefully checked each of the food items laid out for our pleasure in the plush lounge. When I commended him on his profundity on my behalf he took up the gauntlet and made an end run with it. He would take a bite of an item and make a show of getting the full effects of the taste then he would pass the partially eaten item to me.
I asked him if I could have something without his boy germs all over it. He drew himself up and told me that he could not allow himself to live if I ate something that he had not tested first and then I would become ill. We played a cute game with each other until we were summoned aboard our airplane.
Of course there are no direct flights from Tucson to Everett, Washington so we had to change planes in Los Angeles, another reason that I had wanted to fly aboard FI-2. Rod and I were the first ones to dis-embark our plane in L.A. where we were transported to another VIP lounge aboard another electric cart surrounded by more security people. I did know many of the FIS agents and I showed them that I was a regular guy as we stood talking to one another.
Rod was treated to a tour of the cockpit on the next leg of our flight and I heard that he told the flight crew that the cockpit in his daddy's 777 was better looking and that he got to sit in the pilot's seat and fly that plane. I will have to talk to his hindquarters over that one, he knows that I don't own a 777. The flight crew on our return trip from Europe was not employed by me so I doubt that he would have been allowed in the cockpit.
I stared at him as I reminded him that he was aboard FI-2 with me on our return from Europe. He looked at me and told me that Uncle Pete had let him fly that plane. It was only another month until his eleventh birthday, but I was beginning to wonder if he would still be alive then.
On the ground at the Seattle airport we were directed down the side steps from the jetway and into a waiting limo to be whisked away to a waiting helicopter for a ride across Puget Sound. I had expected to see a large plant, but I was still awed at the sight of a one million cubic foot main building where the larger birds were built. Roddy's head was twisting back and forth so fast that I was sure that I saw it turn completely around, at least twice.
Our helicopter was met by another limousine that transported us to another VIP lounge where we found plush facilities to refresh ourselves. Roddy had been complaining of a tummy ache for the previous hour, but he was not about to go lock himself in a bathroom and miss something of interest. I had to reassure him that everything would wait until he was finished with his duty and that nothing would happen until he returned.
Our hosts had a buffet of cold meats and fresh vegetables laid out for us and Roddy piled his plate high with all of our favorite vegetables. When he took a bite and didn't offer me the remainder I asked him about his job as my taster. He told me that he was hungry so I would have to fend for myself and good luck. I asked him why he wished me good luck and he told me that he only meant that he hoped I didn't get sick on anything.
I filled myself a vegetable platter and grabbed Rod to sit in my lap. I told him that if I got sick then I wanted him near me so that he could watch and learn. A waiter stepped in to ask about our luncheon choices and I told him that we were quite content. I told him that we were vegetarian and that the only thing that we had not found was ranch style salad dressing for a dip. He asked Roddy what he would like to have for a drink and Roddy asked me if he could have a coke. I allowed him that and he was happy.
Twenty minutes later we were greeted by our guide. He gave each of us a hard hat and a smock. We were shown where we could hang our jackets then taken by an electric cart for a tour of the plant. Roddy suddenly cried out that they had our security scooters. Our guide asked him what he had said and he told him that his brothers had designed the scooters that we saw everywhere.
I have never paid a lot of attention to where the scooters are being shipped. We have them manufactured by a company that direct ships them to the customer. I only see the money that is transferred to an account where I divide it amongst the boys that designed the unit and hold the patents. Our driver changed course to take us to another building as he talked on his radio.
We were met by two suits that were anxious to learn more about what Roddy had said. I explained that one evening the family was brainstorming and I mentioned that we needed an all weather scooter for the campus security staff. I told them that four of our sixteen year old boys put their heads together and two hours later they had the first design for the scooter.
They wanted to know more and I accidentally let it slip that the actual design was the brainchild of a sixteen year old boy in my house that is a young genius. I was asked for permission to interview him. I don't want to hold any of the boys back, but I know that getting Jimmy away from Cullen long enough for an interview of this proportion would be difficult.
Our trip through the plant continued on and poor little Roddy was on information overload. His neck was sore from spinning around so much. His eyes were smoking from trying to take in every sight and his brain was expanding to the point of explosion as it tried to tuck all of the input into new niches and wrinkles that it was creating at triple light speed.
Our guide was terrific with the boy as he showed him everything about an airplane from the very beginning. Roddy would have been bored had we gone to the sales department, but he was shown a sales order. It was explained to him how that order was translated to the design staff for any drawing changes to the basic airplane design.
"That's like you talk about daddy. You know, where you take a template and build within it to make it unique." I was very proud of the boy's grasp of a basic concept.
Next we were shown where the airplanes' electronics were put together. Each plane has a basic electronics package, but each customer has different specifications for their planes. Roddy was amazed at how many miles of wire was needed for each airplane and he asked insightful questions about how they knew what wire went where and he wanted to know what each piece of equipment did. He counted the wires in the hundreds of connecting plugs on endless cables, but when he got to go inside an airplane to watch those cables being fed through bulkheads and around, up through, and over too…he came out shaking his head.
"Dad, a man could get lost in there." Everybody laughed at him
We walked through the upholstery shop and watched basic seat frames being covered in the colored fabrics for an airline company. We watched as carpets were laid and seats attached to the floors of a plane. But Roddy pulled on my arm and asked me if it was safe to just bolt the wings on. He was sure that the plane should be built around the wing and that they should not be added on later.
When our guide pulled up next to an engine for a new 787 Roddy's eyes widened in amazement. "That's bigger than my old house daddy."
Our tour lasted over two hours before I was asked what I would like to have in an airplane. I told the assembled staff that I had been happy with my 737-ER that I had purchased a year and a half earlier, but that my school had grown larger since them. I told about our trip to Europe a month earlier and how we found that we did not have the seating capacity for the number of students that we had to return with. I had to explain that we had flown the boys over in smaller groups, but had to return all of them at the same time.
I shared with them that Andy was a business partner and that he had procured a 777 to help me in the lurch and that I had been impressed with the plane. I told them that I had a strong sense of buying American first. I want service after the sale and I want to know that I can walk into any airport in the world and find qualified technicians that can make any repairs or adjustments with top speed and efficiency.
I was asked about seating and I was shown their different seating options. I explained that I owned and operated high schools. The boys in my schools are basically smaller, but that they do grow. Most of the boys will move on around the age of eighteen or so and very few of them exceed six feet in height and one hundred and fifty pounds at that age. I told them that the thirty one inch seats would be sufficient and that I would prefer a plane built with those smaller seats.
I would like to see about twenty or so of the larger thirty nine inch seats with extra leg room for a few of the taller boys, or my larger football players. They wanted to know about a seat in which I could stretch out. I told them that a thirty nine inch seat was fine for me, with the proper leg room. I did mention that it may be wise to include as many as four fully reclining seats in the event that a boy should become ill on a flight.
Our hosts wanted us to see the interior of a plane that was almost what I had specified. There was one option on that plane that was unique. I agreed to take a look, but I was feeling the effects of a long day and not looking forward to a long return flight home. I looked at Roddy and thought that we might find ourselves a hotel room for the night, but we had not even brought along a tooth brush.
Roddy and I were taken to an elevator and up to another floor where a new driver met us for a ride through the world's largest building. We stopped before a door and were shown into a long hallway that was like an airport jetway into a large plane. At the end of the hall we found ourselves inside of a new plane that had the smell of a brand new automobile.
The plane was equipped exactly as I would like to have a plane equipped. The one feature that the plane had was one that I had not mentioned, a single galley across the wings, at the middle of the passenger area. The location at the middle of the plane would make the feeding of my boys easy and require fewer steps for the flight crew.
I was offered a chance to look at the flight deck, but I had my head in the can. I was impressed with the size of the indoor outhouse. I always laugh about not being able to wipe my ass in most of the restrooms on airplanes, but that one was large, with enough room for two to fly united.
When I stepped out Roddy was gone then I heard him over the PA system. "This is your captain speaking. Will daddy please report to the front of the plane?" I shook my head as I walked up the isle, but my guide did not appear perturbed about anything. It was I that was perturbed when I opened the cockpit door.
Jack Harding appeared to be about the saddest boy in the world as he sat in a swing at the city park. Gus has a loving heart that is twice as big as his tiny thirteen year old body; he had dragged me, bodily, to meet the young man that didn't appear to have a friend in the world.
Circling nearby, like young vultures, were seven of my youngest and dearest. The boys ride their bicycles about the neighborhood in ever widening ranges. The park was at the southern most extreme of their current domain. The park was only four blocks from the house but, it was at the bottom of the hill—alongside the, usually, dry river bed.
Of course it was Rodney who wanted to make his presence known as he rode as close as he dared to where I was standing alongside of my own bike watching the tears that slowly trickled down one of the cutest faces that I had seen outside of my own precious faced family.
Gus had sat himself down in the swing next to young Jack and he was doing his best to entice the sad boy to talk with me. Jack didn't appear shy, but he was severely withdrawn; this raised my curiosity and I became very eager to try to help the boy. With the aid of seven circling youngsters I formed a plan, "It is hot and I am ready for ice cream, who wants to ride over to the Diary Barn for a double cone?" Of course I had the entire bunch ready for a treat. It was, in fact, a double treat for them because the Dairy Barn is five more blocks away and located on a very busy street. The boys knew that they were never allowed to ride that far without some of the older boys being with them, which so far had never happened.
Kardal was the first to ride up to me, "Da-dee, you will to let us ride to thet place that gives ice cream?" The tiny mustard seed has turned nine years old, but he is still the smallest boy in the family and, by far, one of the easiest boys to love. Khalid and Hamal are never far from this youngster and their wide eyes were on me as they waited for my answer to their best friend's question.
I waited until Roddy and his shadow, Dane rode up. Dezi made his appearance from behind me. Dezi is never far from Gus, but he had allowed his boyfriend the room he needed as he sat alongside Jack. Kerem and José were the last of my tribe to ride over to our circle, they were told of my plans, but I was waiting for one other. I stepped off of my bike and walked over to kneel before Jack, "Would you do us the honor of coming along for an ice cream cone?"
"I ain't got no bike."
"That is really no problem, there are several bikes here that you can ride or you can ride double with me, if you want." Jack was looking at the boys and their bikes and I saw more sadness cross his face. He seemed to focus on the new Mongoose that ten year old Dane's grandparents had bought when they took him to the motel where the grandfather had sexually assaulted the boy.
I knew that I had Jack's attention. Dane is quick, he has been near me more than some of the other boys that the state sent to me as he hangs with my young son, Rodney. He quickly picked up my signal and rode up to me with a cute little whine in his voice, "Dad, I am too tired to ride all that way, I want to ride with you, but who will take my bike home for me?" I wanted to grab the boy up and hug him to death, but I maintained my composure.
"Well, it seems that we have an extra bicycle that needs someone to ride it. Shall we go ask your mother if you can go with us for ice cream." Jack's face cracked as I saw a faint smile on his freckled face.
"I ain't got no mother, she got kilt by a stupid drunk bastard." Suddenly the lights came on, I had heard of this boy's tragedy a few months earlier. We were preparing to go to seat the queeing and I was reading the daily news the evening before we left. Jack's parents were killed when another car slammed into the back of them at a red traffic light. The speed of the other car, and the force of the impact, caused both vehicles to explode in a ball of fire that set four cars near them afire.
In total there were five people killed, a boy riding in the bicycle lane next to the impact, Jack's parents, the driver of the car that hit them, and a three year old child sitting in the back seat of a car to the other side of the Harding vehicle. The vehicles were waiting for the traffic signal to change and allow them to move along. Twelve other people sustained severe burns from the initial flash of the explosion and nine cars were totally destroyed by the fire.
The driver of the car that hit them was determined to be a sixty eight year old man with a long history of DUI, currently having no driver's license. His blood alcohol level was two point nine, the very edge of severe alcohol poisoning. Driving without a license meant that he had no insurance. He was living on a very small pension and was virtually penniless. He had never been able to work because of his drinking so he had the minimum Social Security income of ninety dollars a month and was living in a converted travel trailer on the back of lot owned by his step-son.
As we talked I learned that Jack ended up living with his father's sister, whom he hated with a passion. Jack led the way to his house as the boys and I followed, I had Dane on the handlebars of my bike and I stole a kiss from him two or three times as we rode the two blocks back toward my house.
I never wanted to throttle anyone as badly as I wanted to wrap my hands about the throat of Rachael Harding, I would actually be doing the woman the favor that she seemed to seek. Gloom and doom would have been a little girl's fanciful fairy tale in comparison to the hopeless bile that spewed from the woman's mouth.
"Well, you're still alive, huh, thought for sure that you would get yersef run over by a truck or bus like your pa did. Who's these people? Someone come to rob and kill me, maybe they want to vilate me body or burn the 'ouse down round bout me."
"Ms. Harding, my boys and I are going to the Dairy Barn for some ice cream and Jack is going to go with us."
"He cain't get in no car, he'll get his sef kilt off like his pa done. His dog is missin and I'm sure that some nut has drownt him or et him for his dinner. I saw a dog get et one time when I was a chilt. Warn't nothing for me to see as it was me own dog thet get his sef et." The woman is need of help and I needed to make a call to JC to get Jack away from her at once.
I led Jack from the house and pushed him to Dane's bike. "Don't be gettin on that contraption boy, you'll break your stupid leg and fall under a bus and get yersef kilt or crippled up and I ain't gonna care for ya then." I had to get my sons away from that place and Jack was going with me at any cost.
A general assembly of the students was called for Friday morning. All of the boys were gathered in the large auditorium in the first and second basement area of the large dormitory building on the campus at BAW. I let Matty introduce the plan to the boys and sat back to listen to their input.
Norman Ellis had requested that the boys perform a concert at Wilson High School before the end of the school year. With our enrollment nearing the four hundred student mark we expected a lot of input. I mentioned in the last chapter that the state of California had sent me sixty boys to house, educate, and feed for two months while the state raced to build them a school in the San Joaquin valley outside of Fresno. I don't know how many of those boys possess musical talents, but we really don't have the time or space to have all of them at Wilson High.
I let the powers that be convince me otherwise. The boys were eager to perform before an audience again. I heard many comments about how someone wished that one student or another from the European schools could be with them, but every boy in the school wanted to do his best to show the city what he could do.
The auditorium at Wilson High can seat twelve hundred persons. It is the largest school auditorium in Tucson and after listening to the boys I decided to see if we could do something really special. After only three phone calls we had arranged for a gala event for the city to see what that fag's school on the mountainside had to offer.
I had agreed with Norman to have the students from BAW perform a one hour concert for his students. The boys went to him and explained things the way they are. Norman called me and asked me why I was trying to hide such rare talent. He wanted to hear all the boys from my family perform. The very best we could do was a one and a half hour program for the student body. But Friday night, and two performances on Saturday, with a final performance Sunday afternoon would each stretch out for two hours.
Norman looked at me with big brown eyes and begged me in silence. I do like the man and I suppose that I owe the school that put up with me for four years something in return. Norman had agreed to accept my offer of a teaching position at BAW, but he wanted to leave a legacy behind that would take many years for a successor to overcome.
I let the family press agent handle the publicity for the program. Turner visited every radio station in the city and he distributed videos of the boys in Paris to each of the twelve television stations. The boys carefully edited scenes for their full effect that showed Presidents Sarkozy and Putin watching the command performance. They filled the background with the music that we had been treated too. Highlighted clips of the boys in action were interspersed to show the professionalism of the amassed choirs.
Turner had arranged for a massive media advertisement and he arranged for other boys in the house to be involved to the best of their talents. Impressive posters were made up and placed throughout the city advertising simply, the Bradford Academy Choir in live concert.
Tickets for the event were twenty five dollars for students and mezzanine seating, orchestra seating was fifty dollars. All proceeds from the event went to Wilson high school's music, arts, and the sports departments. Other schools in the area heard of the arrangement and wanted the money to go into a general fund but, I was able to trump their thunder when I told the school board that I was an alumnus of WWHS. Many of the boys that would perform were alumni and many more had been students at the school over recent years before transferring to BAW. The concert was our way of paying back to the school for what we had received and a way for us to help our alma mater raise much needed funds.
There are always sore losers in any situation, but I held all of the trump suit, plus all of the aces. The date for the series of concerts was set for the final weekend of the school year, May twenty third. The orchestra filled the pit to its capacity as the choir gathered on stage.
Willie and Shane brought the house down with the opening routine, a duet of Mozart's piano concerto number five with the school's orchestra accompanying them. The entire concerto is twenty three minutes long so the boys made it more interesting with a comedy routine. Shane walked out on stage and took a bow then looked at his watch. He looked to each side of the stage then checked his watch again. A heckler from off stage yelled at him to either play or get off of the stage.
Shane walked over to a single piano that was on stage and sat down to play. He continued to play with his left hand as he stood up to look over the back of the piano then looked about the auditorium. He twisted around backwards and played a few bars with his hands behind his back as he scanned the area, as if looking for someone, Then he turned to the piano to continue playing.
Willie is a small sprite of a boy. He ran through the auditorium from the main doors and made a big deal out of calling out his presence. He mounted the stairs and ran over to the piano. He placed sheet music on the rack and slid in next to Shane as he took over on the keyboard. Shane turned on the bench and placed his hands on his hips then stood up and walked across the stage. He returned to the bench and used his rump to push the small boy aside. Willie picked himself up from the floor and walked to the other side of the bench proceeded to push Shane to the floor.
Most often the one playing at the time made a big show of falling to the floor and turning tail to the audience to rub his injured backside and threatening harm to the other. About eight minutes into the piece a second piano was rolled out onto the stage and the stage hands made a show of wiping it down before exiting stage left. I can't do justice in telling what I can show you so watch this clip that inspired the boys to their act. By the time that the young men concluded their piece the audience was holding their tortured sides as their laughter continued on for several curtain calls.
The boys sang many popular pieces of the day as we tried to avoid too much of the long hair music. The concert was designed to entertain young people and people young at heart. We did not have an audience of European aristocrats with this go round.
To enhance the comedy we worked hard with Britt and Bart. They were seated on the front row wearing blue jeans and cockeyed ball caps. When the curtains closed at the mid-point of the concert the two little guys began to chase each other across the front of the auditorium. Many of the audience tried to shush the boys then Norman stood up and added to the act.
In a loud voice he told the boys to take their seats and be quiet. Like tiny boys anywhere the young brothers stuck their tongues out and ran from him. Norman started a mock chase that ran the boys onto the stage. They hid behind a piano and peeked around to see if they were still being chased. Then eight year old Bart spotted the piano that they had been hiding behind.
With a loud bang he raised the fallboard and began to pound away, making an atrocious noise that anyone who has ever heard a child at the instrument can identify with. Britt ran over to the other piano and slammed that fallboard open and began to pound away. He hit a few accidental chords which made Bart stop and turn around.
Bart ran to his brother and placed his hands on his hips as he stared. Britt pounded out two awful chords that twisted eardrums. Bart stamped his foot on the floor and stalked back to the other piano. He played two chords and turned to Britt and stuck his tongue out. Britt answered with more chords then the two began a duel of chords.
Very slowly they settled into the difficult third movement of Mozart's Sonata in D major for two pianos, Molto allegro, and let it meld into a rousing piano duet of great intensity. The audience came to the edge of their seats as the boys continued to play the difficult passage that belied their tiny hands. I overheard many comments about their hands not being large enough to span the keys for the chords that they were playing. Nobody had noticed the small box sitting atop the sustain pedals for the boys short legs.
The choir began to softly vocalize behind the curtains then slowly the curtains were opened to see all of the boys on stage. Sonata in D major is an instrumental piece, but the concert was for all of the boys and Matty had involved them with background sounds. The orchestra faded with accompaniment and a full concert was once again underway with two of the tiniest of boys leading the way. The boys were not allowed to leave the stage as the audience was on their feet with loud cheers, whistles, and applause. They wanted an encore. We were prepared for that and the tiny duo sat down to play their piece from the Paris concert, the first movement of Mozart's Sonata in D major for two pianos, Allegro con spirito.
A favorite piece with all of the family is Arise and Seize the Day—Music by Alan Menken, Lyrics by Jack Feldman. The song has become their rally cry and it was received with wild enthusiasm at the concert in Paris. The response of our American audience was just as enthusiastic.
Exercising my censorship rights, I had allowed news cameras and still photography during the show. I had agents monitoring all of the feeds to make certain that Cullen and I were not photographed. The evening news for all of the local stations gave us great coverage. We had so much coverage that our Saturday shows were standing room only with many people being turned away.
People that had missed the Saturday afternoon program stayed in line to catch the evening performance and many that had seen the early program returned to the line to see it a second time. I was called at the house early Sunday morning to tell me that their was a line of over five hundred people waiting before the sun had arisen to purchase tickets at the door. I guess good entertainment is hard to come by.
All together Woodrow Wilson High School netted twenty five thousand dollars from ticket sales and another ten thousand dollars in direct donations. I had to ask Andy to re-direct the calls to BAW to a service; our staff was inundated with requests for the boys to do other concerts.
By ten o'clock Monday morning I made a decision. I had the operators inform all callers that there would be no concerts because the student body of Bradford Academy West was returning to Europe for the summer. Next I had to sit back and try to figure out how to make that idea a reality. NIFTY to support their fine work.
After The Battle
All In The Family
Andy Finds Daddy
The Bus Trip
Bryn and Mell
Chris My Love
From 6 One
In The Locker Rm
Jasson & Jerrod
John and Me
Jordan and Ellis
Laney and Me
Lyle and Kyle
Mark and Lyle
Mitch and Carroll
My Bed Is Made
Pat and Me
The Phone Call
Rainy Day Ralphy
Rape of Rocky
Roby & Cowboy
Ryan and Jeremy
Swimming /w Steve
13 Year Old Daddy
Uncle Ed, Tommy, and Me
Does your mother know you're reading this shit?
Warning: This story is PORNO. I have tried my hand at friction, now I'm trying fiction. This story contains vivid descriptions of sexual activity between men and teen boys.
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