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 tfe TSAIAGI names in this story. This font is included in thfull version Send an e-mail for it .
I have to step back a few months to introduce two youngsters that came into the family as a result of the UFC games that we participated in. You may remember that Jamie, Timmy, Ted, and myself trained to fight in the fashion of the street fighter. We trained to survive while the object of the fights that we were participating in was to fight to the death of at least one of the two opponents.
Chrisy was not about to let his husband go off to fight without him being there. That was a real trick to make Chrisy look like a street tough fag boy, complete with a few gallons of well placed ink. The tattoos had to be convincing to other street thugs that inspected them closely to see what rights Chrisy had to be amongst the elite. Of course the rest of us had our own ink listing our battles. We even had a few well placed scars.
Andy's people are experts when it comes to applying disguises, but the ink was done by our own young artist, Craig. Craig used an indelible ink that had to be removed with solvents, it wouldn't pay to get sweaty in a fight and have our tats running off of our bodies. The scars were placed using laser beams that made them a temporary part of our skin. The pain of removing the scars. tats, and ink was much worse than the fights.
Around the first of December word came to us that a major fight was being held at a large ranch just across the border into Mexico. Through my contacts I received explicit directions to the ranch, as well as directions of where to cross the border undetected.
I secured a rusty Silverado SUV with no mufflers and a smoking engine to make the trek in. Of course I had the junker trucked down to a closer location then let Andy's men drive us down in armored SUVs.
Nothing makes me see red faster than to see someone abuse a child. The fights were over and our team had been declared the overall winners of the evening's events—a great honor and distinction, to some I guess, but not to us. I had seen much more than I had wanted to see of this world of filth and slime, yet I knew that there were children involved here that did not belong to this pitiful life.
I walked behind the scenes where I was not supposed to go and I was glad that I had done so. As I walked into a smaller area I confronted a man dragging a small boy by the hair. The boy was thrown to the ground near a younger, but larger, boy as the man in charge shouted his outrage.
"Te dije que para matar el poco cabrón!"
"Pero señor, ėl es mi hermano. I can't kill him, ever." The boy on his knees was crying as the young boy reached to hold onto his brother.
"Then you die, imbėcil."
From his waistband the large Hispanic drew a Glock and brought it down toward the boys huddled on the floor at his feet. Faster than this can be read I had my smoking Colt in my hands and the man had two useless hands. He had used the two handed hold on his weapon, which seemed odd as I think of it later. Most people of that ilk aim their weapon with a sideways grip that turns the butt parallel to the ground. This man was preparing to aim at two helpless boys four feet away.
My shot entered his left hand and traveled through to right wrist, shattering bone and sinew on its way. His gun discharged wildly sending its round through the heart of the man's companion standing across the room. The bullet traveled through the man's body and into the face of a third man as he opened the outside door that would lead us to freedom.
The flattened bullet that hit the third man wiped out his entire face and removed the back half of his head to scatter skull and brain matter across the ground behind him. Now the shit was in the fan and I had to fight for, not only my life, but the lives of two naked innocents that huddled together for safety.
I yelled at the boys to run, they stood transfixed in their places. I grabbed the smaller boy by his hair and half dragged him toward the door. The larger boy helped the smaller boy get to his feet as the three of us stealthily crossed the room to the open doorway.
I looked out and could see no one. I pushed the boys into a run as we darted across the parking lot to where I thought that the old rust bucket was parked. My guys were all at the truck looking for me. Timmy was standing by the driver's side with the door open. I yelled at them to get in and told Timmy to drive like a maniac. I pushed my rescuees inside the SUV with no fanfare as Timmy spun the tires getting out of there.
The SUV may have looked like a rusty old wreck, but I had had the drive train tweaked and the motor responded with all four hundred horses from its 454 cu. inch engine. Ted and I had our weapons aimed behind us as we waited for the chase to begin, but nobody followed us. After ten minutes we decided that we were home free, that no one had seen us leave.
Timmy was driving on a Mexican highway with no headlights. In order to understand the italics there you will have to drive on one of the roads in super rural Mexico. They can barely be referred to as roads, but the maps list them as highways.
As we approached our turn to trek across the desert Timmy turned on the halogens. A light bar across the top of the SUV held four two million candle power flood lights and four more were mounted across the front bumper, two of those spots.
We had crossed the desert in the same location earlier in the day, when it was still light out and Timmy had paid attention to where the arroyo's were. We didn't want to do a nose dive into a five foot deep rut when we were that close to the border.
The deep throated roar of twin AFB carbs dumping fuel into 454 cu. inches of a well tuned engine brought chills to my body as the truck leapt through the gap in the border fence and we were home in the good old U.S.of A. Suddenly we were lit up from every directions as men shouted at us to get out of the vehicle and get down on the ground.
Instantly Timmy, Ted, and I had our badge cases in our hands and our hands held high above our heads. In our other hand we held our weapons by the barrel, but had them pointed a little to the rear of us. A little trick that Peter Caulfield taught me.—I fumbled my first few attempts, but I never dropped my weapon. On the fifth try I was able to flip the weapon up and twist and roll before catching it and placing fire down on an unfriendly. Ted had trained with the MI-6 people and is adept at the maneuver. Timmy picked up on it quite quickly.
I was calling out in English and Spanish that I was a Federal Officer. A man with Lieutenant's bars on his shirt collar stepped from behind the lights and approached me. Suddenly he called out, "It's alright. It's Sir Dickson. Put your weapons away."
The lights went out and we were surrounded by fifteen to twenty INS agents that were told to expect heavy traffic through the breeched border fence that night. I suggested that they may want to back up quite a way and allow several vehicles to cross over. If they stopped a vehicle the way that they stopped us the others would turn tail and run back into Mexico to find another point of entry.
I could hear the unmistakable sound of Andy's latest toy. I have sung the praises of the Sikorsky S-92 that I had bought for Jason Russell's birthday a few years earlier until Andy bought himself one. Of course he had his painted flat black with radar absorbing paint. I hate to tell him that the paint won't really hide the big bird from radar, why ruin his fun.
I told the Lieutenant that I did not know the nationality of the two boys with me, but that I was taking charge of them and that he could get a report later. I asked my guys to remove all of our gear from the SUV and to be sure that they all had their cameras. I opened the hood of the rust bucket and removed a phosphorous grenade from its mount. I pulled the pin and placed the canister on top of the engine block near the timing chain and water pump then shut the hood.
I turned to the Lieutenant and told him that he could tell the next men that came across the border that there had been a fire fight and that all of the occupants of the truck are no more. Ted opened the doors and carefully tossed blood from a bottle in his backpack around the inside of the vehicle. He even took care as to how he splashed the windows. I told the INS people to move away as Ted, Timmy, and I opened fire on the old truck with our Uzzis. We left no glass in tact and no tire inflated as we pumped three hundred rounds into the wrecked hulk.
The helicopter was hovering two feet above the ground and throwing up enough dirt and debris to blind a blind dog. I pushed the boys before me and Chrisy helped them into the chopper. I was the last to board and the pilot lifted off then made a sharp turn to the north and home.
I lifted myself off of the floor as Andy handed me a cup of coffee. "How were the fights?" I almost poured the coffee on him, but I needed that hot liquid. The seats had been removed to allow for a quick extraction. We all sat huddled on the floor. I grabbed Chrisy and tickled his tonsils before turning to my left and doing the same for Jamie. I raised myself to my knees and pulled Timmy to me and gave him a cock stiffening kiss then I kissed Ted.
"We have pulled off a major round of points for ourselves tonight, gentleman. I don't know how the promoters will factor in the shot up truck, but time will tell." Everyone turned to look at the two boys. "The smaller boy lost his fight, but his opponent died anyway. His trainer ordered the larger boy to kill him and he wouldn't do it.
"I believe that I heard you say that he is your brother?"
"Sí, señor, ėl es mi hermano."
"My name is Andru and this is my big brother, Alexio."
"Señor, you saved our lives tonight. We are yours to do with as you please now, forever." I reached out and rubbed the heads of both boys and told them that they were welcome. I sipped at my coffee as Andy stared at me. We flew along in silence and landed on the practice field of BAW.
Two electric carts rolled up to the door of the large black bird. I was thrilled to see that Cory was the driver of one, Cas drove the other one. I jumped from the chopper and enveloped my man in my arms. I almost humped his ass on the grass in the middle of the night, but we were in the wrong place, at a bad time.
With gear and crew loaded our drivers sped our fast steeds at speeds almost approaching twenty five miles an hour out the open gate at the south end of the school grounds. The Sikorsky lifted off behind us and disappeared into the night as we flew up the street—with no lights on—and into the driveway of my house. The security gates across my driveway snapped up and locked as the front door opened and naked boys poured out of the house.
We were mobbed by man eating urchins wanting our bodies. Every stitch of clothing was removed as widened eyes took in a sight that many of them had not seen, or known of. Every inch of our bodies were examined as some of the older boys wanted to know what this symbol or that one represented. I don't lie to my boys and I don't brush their questions aside. I sat my stinky body down on the floor of the family room, as did my cohorts in crime, and tried to answer their questions.
Some of the tats were decorative. Some told stories of conquests—imagined on our part, but satisfactory to those at the fights that inspected us. It was the one tat that I didn't want to explain that caught the eye of some of the more astute boys and was soon the center of their questions.
A small, and obscure, tat was incorporated into another tat so that it looked like part of the design. Only those that know of the tat, and its meaning, usually find it. Many of the boys read the puzzle books that have hidden words or symbols—they aspire to be like Rocky. Finding the recurring pattern hidden in our art work was no problem for them. They looked for, and found, the same pattern on all five of us.
"Boys, look…the five of us are playing a very dangerous game with very dangerous men. We have to make those men believe that we have the right to travel in their circle. None of the tats are real. I know that you know that they will wash off. What I am saying is that what they represent is not real, at least where we are concerned. These tats tell of fights that we have entered into around the country, and of our victories there.
"As far as our tats, they are only make believe. We do not abide by the type of fights that occur amongst these men, and every fight that we have been involved with has ended with a police raid. I have here two boys that were part of those fight organizers and they are going to be offered the opportunity to become a part of our family."
I held a young brother in each arm and pulled their naked bodies close to mine. Both boys were shy and unsure of their surrounding. It was the larger of the boys that spoke up. "My name is Andru and I am fourteen years of age. This is my brother, Alexio, and he is sixteen. He is the fighter. I am…" he broke out in tears.
Alexio moved over to hold his brother. "We were born in Tucson and went to school here until two years ago when our mother sold us to Señor Alvarez. He liked my body because he had seen me in gymnastics competition. He taught us to fight, but Andru was not so fast and agile as I was and he got beat up all of the time. Señor Alvarez made Andru el puto." Andru turned his head against his brothers shoulder as his body quaked with his sobs.
Ronnie Cramer scooted over and put his hand on Andru's shoulder. "I was forced to suck men's dicks and let them fuck me in the ass or I could not eat. I was chained to a bed with other boys every night and did not get water or a place to pee until morning.
"Andru, there are many of us in this room that have been putos because bad men wanted to have sex with young boys. You are amongst friends here and we will not judge you for what has happened to you. We want to love you and make you a part of our family. Won't you give us a chance?"
Andru turned and looked at Ronnie. Ronnie sat with his arms stretched wide. Andru turned to his new friend and the two boys hugged. Ronnie held Andru tightly and rubbed his back and the back of his head. A circle of boys gathered around the pair as Ronnie asked each one of them to tell their story of forced man boy sex. Alexio was pulled into the group as well. He had been forced to service men and the boys with whom he would fight. Some of the boys he would have to fight to the death, but they had sex together and held on to one another, often on the night before they fought.
"Nobody wants to talk about me past. All you Yanks thinks about is that I am the King. Well guess what? I am still a boy and I remembers me thoughts before me mum told me that I was gonna live in the colonies with some old stodgy uncle. I didn't want to leave me home in London. I had me a mate that was all that when it came to wanking and buggering.
"I learnt about that stuff when I was first form and I wanted me mum to let me live at the school so that I could have many boyfriends. We lived not that far from the school and mum told me that she wanted to keep me safe from me grandfather. I didn't know the old fart and I could care less about him. I only wanted me willy sucked or and me bum scratched real nice like by some boy wot might love to do me up.
"I learnt that me mum knew me tendencies when she brought me to uncy 'cause she told him that we was two alike. Uncy was afraid to let me stay with him so I wrapped me arms about him and told him that I felt like he was gay, like me.
"Uncy wrapped me up in a solid cocoon and tried to smother me so that I wouldn't get hurt. I did come close a few times to getting meself into a tumble, but uncy admitted that he was the one that caused it. I love that man so much. I love me mum and da, but I would like to have uncy be me da, if you know what I means. I won't give up me da for a heart beat, but uncy…he is a man.
"I heard someone say that he is a man's man. He may be a boy loving faggot to us what knows him, but he looks so good and walks so proud. He is tall and he dresses in very expensive clothes what make him look even better. He talks with authority and people listen. He listens most of the time and he remembers everything that he sees and hears. He knows politics and he knows the money markets. He is worth billions of dollars and most of the people don't even knows it.
"I see those lists of billionaires and I wish that uncy was on the list because he has more than twice the amount of money that they do, and all of his money is cash in the bank. Yeah, he owns a few houses that he has helped the owners save from the banks, but I have seen a lot of his stash.
"He has this safe in our house what has millions of dollars in unmounted jewels of all sorts and sizes. We all seen this stack of cash that is in a room in the cavern under the school grounds. There is more than thirteen Billion dollars and British Pounds and German Marks and French Francs and Italian Lira, stacked in that room. He has more than six hundred Billion dollars worth of gold in banks around the world and more money coming in every day.
"My cabinet didn't vote the way that I wanted them too one time and I told uncy to just buy the country and we would take over. He reminded me that I was the King and that he was my first minister, we already ran the country. It was me, he said, that wanted a constitution and a republican form of government where the people would choose in a democratic way the direction that they want the country to go. I just want to live like uncy does with a house full of naked boys waiting to be jumped and humped, or to hump me.
"So, I got these here bent leanings. I got them naturally and I loves them. I learnt to stick rounded objects up me bum when I was about eight or so. I found all sorts of things that would go in me and I played with them in the bath or late at night in me bed.
"I met this boy what used to come round with the gardener that was about me same age and we used to sneak up to my room and look at each other's willies. He let me touch him and I got these tingles in me arm that went all up and through me body. I couldn't help it, I bent over and sucked on him. He got all big eyed and tried to pull his pants up, but I started to wank him and he stopped.
"I don't know how I knew to wank him at that age, it just seemed like the thing to do. He pushed his middle toward me and I knew that he would do whatever I wanted him to do. I had him bugger me. We went to my room every afternoon after that and I sucked on him then he buggered me bum til we both shook and got all relaxed and feeling good down there.
"When school started he went away. I asked his da where he were and his da said that he was off to a boarding school a long way away. I missed him. I had me things to push up me bum and they went in deeper than his willy did, but I liked feeling his warm body against me back and his breath on me neck as he buggered me fast and hard like.
"I didn't get another friend like that until I were twelve. I was attending this academy where I met Gary Russell. When his folks took in Jason I cried because he had been sodomized by them pervs. We had a bit of fun together and I met Jason's mates, Steve Thewell and Chris Martin, but they are straight as arrows. I heard that uncy did them and I am glad. They needed a bit of straightening out so that they are bent like the rest of the band.
"I ain't mean. I like them blokes and straight boys are okay with me, somebody gotta make the baby boys what will grow up to be teenage faggots in the future, don't they? I just didn't like to have such sweet meat hanging with us all the time and knowing that they wouldn't bugger my arse. We get on some hot scenes sometimes and I think that now that uncy has sorta given them the one two, or ten eleven, that I might find them up me. I hope so.
"I weren't frustrated in school. Oh no way. I got mine from me blokes what bent my way. I just wanted to do Jason and Gary. I did get them after they got their Golden Pole Pins. It would have been too much for me not to get them. After all, I was the crown prince and they needed to bow before me, or over me back as it were. I cleaned their royal scepters for them.
"I guess there weren't a lot to tell about me. I just wanted you to know that uncy didn't bend me, I was bent from the cradle. It weren't me mum's fault, she told me that it were in me genes, but uncy says he likes me in my jeans. Actually he likes me without me jeans on and I like to rub meself all over him and feel his warm love. He does love me like one of his own sons. He keeps me closer than he keeps Rod, but I understand, I am his sister's progeny. He's gotta love me. You can too, if you're young and hung."
I almost deleted Cullen's insert. I guess he feels that he is not getting enough attention. The whole world is watching him, yet he has to have more. He needs that personal attention, but you can't touch him. You will draw back a nub and squat to pee for the rest of your life if you try.
One thing that I hate to see happen is for a boy to give up his identity too quickly. I am afraid that the other boys may have too much influence and that the new boys feels threatened. Two thirteen year old boys, on the cusp of turning fourteen, walked into Tomes of Time one afternoon. Alice called me to tell me that two of the sweetest boys ever were asking about BAW. I headed over to the bookstore and talked to the boys over their lunch.
I had never encountered EMO boys. I enjoy some of the alternative music, I can enjoy just about anything except rat. But the lifestyle of the true EMO is something that I am not familiar with. The pair of boys were true to their concept of the fashion?…with their hair cut long, but trimmed up around the ears. The effect was a simulated sideburn look. Their hair was parted on the left with the right side being left longer to hang down over their foreheads, just above their right eye.
Both boys had enough metal in his face to make going through a security check point a nuisance to the operators. Davis had earrings, but Crypian had studs in both sides of his bottom lip and a long, gold stud through his left eyebrow. It was a little hard to tell with boys as young as they were, but it appeared that their eyebrows were plucked. Neither boy wore the mascara that is popular with the set, but then they were living on the street where it would be hard to apply the makeup.
The boys wore black, with baggy black pants that covered their feet. I raised a pant leg on each boy so that I could check out their feet. Their shoes were thread bare. The bottom cuff of their jeans was frayed from dragging on the ground as they walked around the city each day searching for food and shelter. I hoped that I could help the youngsters, but I knew in my heart that they would be teased because of their EMO lifestyle. I was wrong.
Crypian's eyes are a darker blue than Dave's, but that may be his Hungarian heritage. He is a true gypsy at heart. Davis is a sweet little innocent boy that seems to go along with whatever Crypian thinks best. I don't pull punches with boys that seek shelter from me, I get down to where the rubber meets the road. Or as the case may be, where the rubber meets the asshole.
I am seldom ever wrong when I size a boy up and a couple is much easier to read. Davis is the submissive one. He is bottom to Crypian's top. I asked him if he ever wanted to top and he ducked his head and told me yes. I asked Crypian about that and he told me that he never knew. He told Davis that if they could find a place to be safe that night that his ass belonged to the younger boy. Both boys had to take a kissy face break and I ordered more coffee for me and soft drinks for the boys. I also learned that they were still a little hungry. DUH??? An order of chilli fries sounded very good to them. Al stepped up to the table as Alice placed the chilli fries before the hollow boys. He had a three layer, eight inch German chocolate cake, complete with coconut frosting. The cake was barely cool enough to be frosted. I had to have a piece, and so did my wide eyed companions.
Davis kept a journal and he had a nosy older sister. He made the mistake of leaving his journal on his bed when he ran to take a pee break. That was all of the invitation that his fifteen year old sister needed. By the time Davis had shaken the last three drops away and zipped up he heard his sister running through the hall reading an excerpt from his current entry. In that entry he had described the most recent bout with Crypian and extolled the giant size of his boyfriend's penis and the feeling that he was left with as he was fucked for over an hour.
Davis ran into the kitchen and directly into the hand of his mother. She slapped him so hard that he fell down. Hid dad entered the kitchen and took the journal. He read a part of it and picked Davis up and beat him with his fists then bodily threw him out of the front door with nothing but his underwear on.
Bruised and barefooted, Davis made his way the five blocks to Crypian's house. He had to cross a major thoroughfare several blocks from a traffic signal. He ran across the first six lanes stepping on sharp rocks, bits of glass, pieces of metal debris, and etc. His feet were bloody by the time that he reached the median. Fortunately the traffic light four blocks to his right was red and there was no traffic for the final six lanes. He darted across as best as he could than sat down on the sidewalk on the far side of the roadway and bawled. His feet were so sore and bloody that he was sure that he would not be able to go on.
It was still a block to Crypian's house then around the corner. The pavement was hot, even in November. We had several one hundred degree days in November and many days were in the nineties. Davis knew that if he were to remain where he was then somebody would stop and probably call the police. He would be taken back to his house and he would be beaten again. He never thought that what his father had done was wrong and that his father would go to prison for his actions. He was only thirteen after all.
He gritted his teeth and rose to his feet. He trudged along as best he could. No one paid him any attention, even though he was wearing white boxers with teddy bears on them. He limped to the corner and saw Crypian coming up the street from the opposite direction. Crypian spotted him and ran to meet him. He helped Davis into his house and washed and nursed the boy's injured feet.
Davis was hurt, but only superficially. The cuts were not deep and they were far fewer than he said that it felt like. Most of his pain was from pieces of metal that stuck into the souls of his feet and tiny bits of glass. Nothing had gone in far enough to require a doctor.
Crypian dug out an old foot bath and poured a package of salts made for soothing sore feet. He filled the foot bath with hot water and turned on the vibrator. Davis slowly placed his feet into the hot water as he allowed himself time to adjust to the heat. Once his feet were submerged he began to feel better. Crypian knew something else that would make the boy feel better and he took up a position to really relax the boy that he loved with all of his heart.
Davis's last vestige of modesty fell into the foaming hot water as Crypian bent over the foot bath and laved another sore part on Davis. Davis said that it was not so much sore as stiff. Crypian knew how to take the stiffness out of it. Davis begged for release, but Crypian told him that the longer that he let his feet soak the better he would feel and to help that feeling along he would keep Davis's other body part warm and soaking in its own type of bath.
Crypian is quick and street smart. It comes naturally to him without any experience to draw from. He also knew Davis's father and his own aunt that he lived with. He told Davis that if his father had not already called his aunt then he would as soon as she got home. The aunt is very straight laced and pounds on her Bible as she berates the boy to do better and live by the Word of the Lord. He knew that there was no way that he would be able to let Davis stay with him and he was fairly certain that he would be needing to find another place to live as well.
Once Davis got the cream out of his center part Crypian began. He pulled out five or six pairs of jeans. He gathered a dozen tee shirts and as many pairs of underwear. He rummaged around in the back of his closet and found a pair of old shoes that would fit the smaller foot of Davis. He pulled open his bottom drawer where his aunt placed new clothes to be used when needed. There he found four packages containing six pairs of crew sock each.
He placed a pair of jeans on the bed and dug around for one more tee shirt which he added to the pile. He had already placed Davis's teddy bears in the dryer. He pulled out a pair of clean socks and pulled them over Davis's feet then helped him into the warm boxers and the clean jeans. All of the other clothes he quickly packed into two back packs.
The boys ran to the kitchen and scrounged for food. Peanut butter was good. Dried beef jerky would give them something to chew on. A few apples and a half a loaf of bread along with a variety pack cereals in small boxes that would serve as bowls were thrown in.
Crypian had three hundred dollars hidden in his room. Davis wanted his debit card, he had over a thousand dollars in his savings. The boys loaded themselves up with their treasure and turned to the open road. Davis was serious about his debit card so the boys slept in a storm culvert under the thoroughfare the first night. They made their way up the street to the Quik Stop for sodas and milk for their cereal the next morning.
After mid-night they silently crept up to the house where Davis lived and Davis took the door key from the hiding place under the fourth flower pot from the end. The boys then slipped away and back to the shelter where they spent a very cold night. The desert may get into the nineties in the daytime, but quite often the nighttime temperature dips into the forties, or below.
Morning found the boys huddled together, trying to stay warm. The temperature had dipped all of the way to 38°. It was only six thirty so it was dangerous for them to roam about. There was an IHOP™ two blocks to the west and the advertised special was 'all you can eat pancakes' for $4.99. The boys decided to bankrupt the IHOP™. Four refills on hot chocolate and three plates with three pancakes on each one and the boys' appetites were squelched, until lunchtime.
It was only a little past eight. Davis's folks would be driving past the restaurant on their way to work about that time. The boys ordered one more plate of pancakes, each. The waitress shook her head and smiled at the boys. Crypian dug the carton of milk from his backpack and filled their hot coco mugs, the milk would spoil through the day. The waitress never noticed the milk as she sat the cakes before the diminutive boys and asked which leg they were putting all of the food into. Crypian piped up and said, "Me wooden leg, actually. It's as hollow as his head is." Several people nearby heard the exchange and laughed.
At a little past nine the boys headed for Davis's house. All of the cars were gone and there were no signs of life about. Davis used the key and opened the door. The boy headed straight for his bedroom and found everything just as he had left it.
Davis knew that his sister is a sneak thief. He knew of several times that she had stolen money from their mother's purse and she had even taken money from their dad's billfold twice. After fifty dollars disappeared from the family's vacation fund the old coffee can that held the treasure was moved to some other location. Davis took no chances with his sister, he hid his billfold.
Davis went to his bed and reached between the mattress and foundation and withdrew his leather case that his grandfather had made for him before he died. He quickly looked inside. He had twenty seven dollars and his debit card. He looked about the room and wanted to take his laptop computer with him. He grabbed his book bag and removed his school books. Those he carefully stacked on the back of his desk. He knew that if he tossed them about haphazardly then his parents would know that he had been there.
He placed the laptop into his bag and added the power supply and two extra batteries. He found his headphones and a new piece of software. He went over to his bed and got down on his knees to reach way back underneath. He pulled out a small square box that had once held Altoids™ breath mints. He opened that to show Crypian four memory cards and two flash sticks. "My porno," he giggled. The box was placed in his backpack, away from the computer.
Davis smiled at Crypian and toed off the old sneakers from his feet. He removed his jeans and pulled off the teddy bear underwear. With a clean pair of boxers on he pulled up the jeans then he opened his closet and pulled out his new Converse sneakers. He placed Crypian's old ones against the back wall with his old shoes. He reached up on the shelf and pulled down two down filled sleeping bags and tossed one to Crypian. A quick look around the room, with a tear in his eye, and Davis led the way back out of the house. He carefully locked the door, but slipped the key into his pocket for future use.
Davis knew that the laptop would get stolen if he carried it around on the streets. He knew of one place where it would be safe. He led Crypian across the street and up a few doors. They found old man Silverman sitting on the front porch drinking his coffee and wearing only his tightie whitie underwear. He also had on a pair of furry house slippers to protect his feet against the cold concrete of his front porch.
"I guess the fat is in the fire with you, eh boy?"
"Davis, I would have to be deaf not to have heard. I guess your dad was pretty mad. I saw him throw you out of the house then I saw you run past here almost naked. I called out to you, but you were crying so hard that I guess you didn't hear me.
"Your mother and sister came by a little later. I don't like your sister, she seems sneaky. She told your mother that I was the neighborhood queer where you hung out all of the time. I told her to shut her mouth of I would call the policeman and file charges. I still might file a law suit for defamation of character against her.
"Anyway your mother asked about you and I told her that I saw you running, naked, up the street. She asked me where you would go and I told her that I had no idea. I told her that you only stopped over here sometimes to see if I had any yard work that you could do. I told her that you use my old push mower to keep my grass cut. I told her that you did a real nice job. She looked at the grass and smiled. Your sister never smiled, I don't think that she likes you."
"Mr. Silverman, I have a favor to ask of you. This is my new laptop computer and I am afraid that it will get lost or broken if I take it with me right now. May I leave it with you, and will you not tell my parents that you have it?"
"I would be proud to look after your treasures for you, boy. You are an upstanding kid. I don't believe all of that stuff that your sister was spouting about you and a boyfriend. She is a sick little puppy, in my eyes."
Mr. Silverman told the boys not to tell him where they were going then he wouldn't have to lie if his parents came around again. He told them to stay safe and if they needed anything he told them that they could call him. Davis asked for his phone number and Mr. Silverman told him that he would do him one better. He stepped into the house and came back out in a minute. He handed Davis a cell phone. He told the boy that he could call him anytime, day or night. He said that he had unlimited minutes on the phone so he could call his friends and try to find a place to stay.
Davis placed the phone in his pocket and told the old man that he would only use it when he had too. Davis ran up and hugged the old man, there were tears in both of their eyes when they moved apart. Davis turned and he and Crypian moved up the street. Mr. Silverman walked out to the edge of his yard, still wearing his tightie whitie briefs and furry house slippers, and watched the boys walk out of sight. Davis turned back from time to time and waved at the old man. He felt a lump in his throat, for the first time he felt as if he was actually leaving home.
I asked the boys how long they had been on the street and where they had been sleeping. They told me that they had been on the street for two months. That would have been about right since it was early February. They had been sleeping on top of heat registers or anywhere that they could find heat. I asked them if their money was still in tact. They both drew back.
I assured them that I did not want their money, I only wanted to know if it was safe. Davis told me that he had only withdrawn one hundred dollars from is account and that was the day before we met. Crypian had spent most of his money buying food for the two.
I looked at their pile of stuff then asked them if they had all of their belongings with them. They did. I told them that they could leave their things at the bookstore and that they would be safe, or they could take them along with us. I told them that I was going to take them to a place where they could live and go to school, with no questions asked. I told them that there were gay boys at the school and that they would not be bothered by anybody there. They put their gear into the back of my SUV and we headed up the hill.
I love to watch the faces on new boys the first time that they see the school, especially the dormitory floors where the other boys sleep. On those floors one will not find enough clothing on ten boys to clothe a tiny baby. I watched their wide eyes as their necks swivelled about trying to get a good look at the goods on the boys as they passed by.
Both boys were eighth graders with good grades. I had no problem placing them at the school. I had Tyler running down their school transcripts and before we had made our way to the second floor he passed me the papers. The boys' grades were excellent. Their attendance had been perfect, until they suddenly disappeared. The school had been told that the boys were runaway homosexuals.
As the boys were loading their gear into the rear of the SUV I had made a call to JC. He called me on my earbud to give me a preliminary report. The boys had been reported to the police as runaways, but not until two weeks had passed.
Crypian's aunt said that her TV and stereo had been stolen and that money and jewelry was missing from her house. I held that information to myself until it could be checked out. JC later learned that the woman never had a TV or a stereo. She read the Bible and used a small tape recorder to play back sermons from minsters that she liked.
I talked to Crypian about it and he told me the same thing. I asked about the jewelry and he told me that his aunt did not believe in wearing any sort of decoration on the body and that he had never seen any jewelry around the house. He said that she never kept money in the house because it would be corrupted by moth and rust. He said that any money she had she kept in a small account at the bank to pay their monthly bills.
I learned that his parents had left him over one hundred thousand dollars in life insurance money. His aunt was the executor of that money that was supposed to support him and send him to college. I went in search of the money. The aunt had donated it to a TV evangelist, I had Bull file charges and attach her car and real property.
FI investigators located three neighbors willing to testify against Davis's father. They had witnessed the beating and two of them had called the police. When Davis could not be located the police wrote the report up as a runaway child and placed Davis's picture and description on their blotters.
When I got into the act the police reports were quickly dredged up and the witnesses re-interviewed. With the addition of the third witness the police had a solid case of criminal child abuse. Davis's father was arrested and charged with assault. His mother was charged with child abuse. The sister was placed in a foster home, pending the outcome of the case. Davis was allowed to reenter his home and retrieve his belongings. Crypian was also allowed to recover those personal items that he wanted.
The part that I found disturbing was that within a week the boys' hair was cut and they were without their hardware. I sat down with them over a quiet lunch of pizza and soda at the pizza shack. They were both into their music, but not the lifestyle so much. They had only chosen the dress and hardware because it pissed a lot of people off. Not only their parents, but the staff and students at the school as well..
I laughed and pulled the boys close to me for a group hug. I told them that they were going to fit in very well with the house of happy fairies. 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.
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.
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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.