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.
Traveler Chapter 260
I told Grigory of my plans to take Yuri to Tver, he told me that he had just the car for me. We walked out to the garage area where I met the two mechanics that maintain all of the school’s vehicles and machinery. Grigory led me over to a tan Werwolf, I looked at it then at Grigory. One of the mechanics walked over with a super heavy duty, thirty six inch long pipe wrench and swung it at the driver’s side window. The wrench did no damage to the glass, but the vibration from the impact visibly shook the mechanic. Grigory told me that we could hit the doors with no body damage, but why chip the paint?
Grigory told me that the new car’s armor was made with Mithril fibers mixed into the polymer resin that had been mixed with Kevlar™ in the past. Everything from the frame of the vehicle to its body was made with a matrix of continous Mithril fibers spun into a basic shape then coated with the Polymer resin, the same way that carbon fiber bodies are made. He told me that this very car had undergone every test that could be conceived, including a direct hit into the grill from an eight inch missile equiped with an armor piercing war head, I was impressed. He pointed out the low profile tires and told me that they could run flat at over one hundred kph for three hundred kilometers. He told me that my two sons would be safe inside the car.
I asked him about roll over. He told me that the car is equipped with gyro stabilizers that resist roll over. But in the event that it should happen we would still be safe as long as we stayed inside and waited for help. He told me that the undercarriage was Mithril protected and that the car was completely fire proof, even if a fire was started from inside the car. He told me that the battery was sealed and that all of the wiring was sheathed in Mithril. He said that the only thing that could happen is for someone to cut the fuel line or brake lines on the upside down vehicle.
I asked him about a brake line break or a fuel line cut with the car upright. He told me that sensors would alert the onboard computer and would not allow the car to start. I decided that the car was safe and worthy of a trip to Yuri’s birthplace at Tver. I heard a scuffle behind me and turned to see two little faces peering over the top of a toolbox. I smiled at the boys and waved them over, “Well what do you think boys, will it get us there and back safely?” Both boys were nodding as they ran to put their hands on every inch of the surface of the car. Boys, ain’t they fun!
It was getting late in the afternoon and my stomach began to growl. I heard a another growl from Roddy’s stomach, so I knew it was time for us to go to our suite and prepare for dinner. I chased the boys as we ran from the garage and across the grounds to the main building. Yuri’s little short legs made it easy for me to outrun him, Roddy is a different story. That boy is used to running in the woods, barefoot and naked.
All of the students were happy to see me and each one of them has a story to tell me. I sat down and listened to as many of them as I could before dinner was served, but I knew that I had many more boys to listen to before bedtime. I love all of my boys, I love being with them. I wish it would be possible to have all the boys from all of the schools gathered into one place where I could be with them all of the time. That is not practical due to the language barriers, but still…
Simon packed us a lunch of cold southern fried chicken, potato salad, and fresh vegetable sticks; carrots, celery, jicama, and lots of green onions. I was glad that I was with boys that I wouldn’t be doing any deep kissing with, our breath would be strong. He also included a large, old-fashioned thermos cooler filled with lemonade, sweetened just right. I found two regular thermos bottles with six cups of coffee in each one. We were set for the perfect father-son outing in the countryside, I could only hope that the countryside we were in would be safe for us.
I spotted no less than four FI vehicles following me. I know that I have become an important person, but hey… I would like some privacy to just be with my boys. The drive to Tver was like any drive anywhere. The roads were fairly smooth, a few potholes here and there, and the ever present horse or ox drawn cart. The boys had fun pointing out all the different things that they could see and hear. Yuri was explaining some of the things that we passed along the road. I never really realized that things were so much different in Russia. I have driven all over the states, and through many places in Europe, through the years and I have found many things that made me take a second look, but the things I was seeing on the winding road in Russia made our ride much more enjoyable.
Roddy;s inquisitive mind wanted to know about everything that he saw, from ox drawn carts to farmers plowing their fields behind a huge ox. Yuri giggled when Roddy asked about a honey wagon that was pulled along the narrow highway by a nag that had to be ancient when Rome was built. He was not satisfied until I spelled it out for him what the wagon contained, and it wasn’t honey. As we passed the wagon I rolled his window down so that he could get a big smell. It took severl miles to get that big smell out of the car.
We located a house that Yuri recognized from his youth. I stopped the car at the side of the road in front of the house and the three of us made our way to the front door. An older woman of about fifty five to sixty opened the door to us. When she looked down and saw Yuri she screamed and dropped to her knees grabbing the boy and hugging him close to her bosom. We had found Yuri’s grandmother. The lady invited us into her home as she chatted with Yuri trying to learn everything that she could about him. Yuri pointed at me, his grandmother would look at me and smile. Roddy was communicating to me that Yuri was telling his grandmother all about his new life in America with his new dad and brothers.
I had to eavesdrop when Yuri became animated. His grandmother was shaking her head in disbelief and staring at her precious grandchild. He held his tiny hands and turned them over and around as she examined each finger with a smile on her face. Yuri was telling her that he could play the piano. She nodded and smiled at him; I knew that she would have to hear him play somehow. I set my mind to work on ways to accomplish that goal.
His grandmother told Yuri that his father had been killed by hoodlums on the street where he lived. Suddenly she threw her hand to her mouth and her eyes grew very large. She jumped up as she rattled to Yuri, Roddy told me that she suddenly remembered that she had not offered us anything to eat or drink.
Roddy told Yuri that he would like to use the restroom. Yuri grinned and told his grandmother of our needs. I won’t try to describe the interior of this lady’s house, or the bathroom except to say that only having been in a Russian home should be experienced to be believed. Roddy grew up in the poverty of an Indian village, but he told me that all that he had as a boy was as opulent as the Taj Mahl compared to what we were seeing.
He told me that their outdoor plumbing was inside, not in a little hut set back away from the house. I told him that the honey wagon probably came by every few months to flush the toilet. Tell something like that to a kid and try to keep a straight face. I gave him a stern look then I grinned at him. As I said, one would have to experience what we were seeing for themselves to believe it. He laughed even harder, but he agreed with me.
Yuri’s granmother sat a large pot of stout potato soup on the table. She had a sideboard with cheese and dark bread laid out then she took a chunk of meat from her modern refrigerator and placed it on the table. She poured the boys a glass of buttermilk apiece, I passed on that and asked for water. Yuri ran from the house and returned with a thermos of coffee for me.
I offered the old woman a cup, she tasted of it then went to her stove and poured herself a cup of the local mud soup. She drank her coffee and I drank mine as I looked at the sparseness of her kitchen. The boys and I were mind talking as I was trying to find a way to help Yuri’s family.
Yuri slipped into my lap and looked into my eyes. “Daddy, my grandparents are rich and proud. Everything in this house my grandfather worked for and paid for with his labors. Please don’t try to change them.” I asked him if he thought that she would take a little money for the meal, he hugged me and told me no. I knew that she was very happy to see the boy that she had given up as lost. I told Yuri to assure her that he would write to her and that he would visit with her the next time he was in Russia. I had to brush a tear from his cheek, he returned the favor. We looked at Roddy and saw twin rivers running down his rosy cheeks.
Yuri was thinking that his grandmother was looking tired, she wasn’t used to the excitement of company in her house. She never said anything, but I knew that we were upsetting the old man in the other room as he tried to sleep. Yuri took his grandmother’s hand and they walked from the room. Roddy and I looked through Yuri’s eyes to see the shell of a very drawn and tired old man curled up in his bed. When Yuri spoke to him his eyes opened and he smiled. Yuri drew close and talked directly into the old man‘s ear as they held each other’s hands in love. Yuri visited with his grandfather for about ten minutes before he and his grandmother quietly returned to the table.
We had made the sixty mile trip to Tver in just over an hour and we had stayed at the old woman’s house for almost an hour and a half. I asked the boys if they would like to explore some of the lakes that Tver Oblast is famous for and maybe watch the barges at the large port on the Volga river.
Yuri was excited, he knew where his uncle lived and he told us that he could get us some fishing poles. I smiled at Roddy and told him that there would be no noodling. We bid the old woman farewell and promised to return on our next trip through her town. She was happy to have met me and seen her precious grandson, but she was tired and looking forward to her after lunch nap.
I was happy to let the boys run off some of their abundant energy while I sat under a spreading shade tree sipping on a glass of Simon’s southern style lemonade and looked out over the placid lake. If it didn’t get so damn cold in Russia the serene scene before me would be perfect. I let my mind go over the information that I had gathered on the Hook, I wondered when our path’s would cross.
The cork on my line disappeared beneath the water. I was fishing with an eight foot stick with an old cork bobber afixed to a piece of regular string. I wondered if the tinsel strength of the string would hold up to a decent sized fish. I was surprised when I pulled a nine inch fish of about a pound from the water; both the string and the pole held together. Between the three of us we caught eight similar sized fish. We gave the fish to Yuri’s uncle with his promise to take one of the largr fish over to his mother with our love. I really wanted Roddy to fry some of those fish for us, but we had no utensils and the day was drawing to a close.
We returmed to BAM about seven thirty in the evening to a wonderful reunion of great boys from BAR at St. Petersburg. We sat with the boys late into the night and listened to their stories. Most of the boys there had been at Camp Christopher in 2009 when Roddy and Adsila were betrothed to one another. They all wanted to know it the wedding was still on and if they could attend. I communicated to Roddy that it was his wedding and it was up to him to invite whomever he pleased. He smiled at me as he stood up and told all of the students that they could come to a real Indian reservation to watch him get married to the girl that he loved. However, he assured them that they could not go on his honeymoon with them. That drew several hoots as the boys teased him about wanting to watch him and Adsila get it on.
I had talked to Yuri and he wanted his grandparents to hear him play more than anything else that he could think of. Shortly after noon the next day an ambulance arrived at the front door of BAM. Yuri was there to hold his grandmother’s hand as two attendants placed his grandfather into a wheelchair and pushed him to the cafeteria assisted by the couple’s only surviving son and their two daughters. Grandma’s eyes took in every part of the large entry foyer and a large smile covered her age toughened face. Yuri seated his family next to him as he pointed around the room and introduced his living ancestors to the school.
Two young men from the kitchen staff served as waiters as they brought out plates piled high with food for them to eat. Yuri had told the cooks of his uncle’s and grandfather’s love of wild hare stew. While the dish is not the most desirable to me I had asked for it to be made for them. The head chef told me that the stew is a favorite dish of many Russian peasants so I told him to make enough for the three hundred and forty students from the two schools in Russia. Of course there were still plenty of fresh vegetables and hot soups for those that wanted it.
Yuri wanted to play the piano while everyone was finishing their lunch. The school’s grand piano had been brought in from the stage area of the large ballroom so after he had shared his lunch with his blood family Yuri rose and walked over to the large insturment and sat down at the keys. His little legs are not quite able to reach the pedals so the school’s maintenance technician had modified them for the boy. Yuri surprised his family with his skill. The boys that had not been at Camp Christopher the past winter were also amazed that one so tiny had such big music in him.
As much as it pained us to do so my two young sons and I bid farewell to the boys from the two schools in Russia and headed to the airport for a flight back to Nice. The boys were stuck to the windows of the Werewolf as Grigory drove us across the tarmac to our awaiting plane. I had been involved in the plane’s construction from day one, but this was the first time that the boys or I had seen him.
Yuri had given us the name of the new jet plane that would be my mainstay for air travel on my many jaunts around the globe. Bossaire. FI-2 had served me well, but the new plane was expected to fly circles around anything short of an Air Force fighter jet.
I returned the seventy six million dollar FI-2 to Andy for his personal use. Andy has coveted that plane since he first commisioned its building. He has no use for the jump seats that are built in for my baby boys, but the other amenities that the plane features would make it a perfect plane for him. He was particularly covetious of the command communications center sitting next to the navigator’s station in the cockpit.
I am traveling more often so Andy and I could see the need of a super jet that would carry me and my family further and faster than anything available to us. Of course I wanted a strong plane to keep my family safe, but I also wanted speed. I worked closely with Rolls Royce to adapt their new ceramic jet engine for use on a smaller business jet. The end result was two very powerful, and very fuel efficient, jet engines that develop over thirty thousand foot pounds of thrust. The pair would propell my plane well past the sound barrier in speed.
The body and airframe of the new jet is made entirely of plastic, Poly Resin coated Mithril fiber to be exact. The plane is twenty feet longer and four feet narrower than its predecessor. Weighing in at just slightly more than half as much as the G550 GVP it is fifteen times stronger than any other plane body built for the public in operation. Even the new Boeing 787 Dreamliner that I have purchased is not that strong; more about that plane in a moment.
Pete and his crew had spent several weeks between their job of being my ferry drivers working with the FAA to get Bossaire through the stringent qualifications and get it certified to fly anywhere, at anytime. In the end Pete, and company, were set as the only crew of a private plane that could travel at sixty thousand feet, at Mach-2, with a range of eleven thousand miles without stopping for refueling.
Once onboard the new plane Yuri and Roddy acted like little boys as they explored every inch of the interior. Pete stood before me with tears in his eyes, “Dad, when I opened my eyes on that Alabama beach and saw you I thought that I had died and that I was looking at God, Himself. I have never regretted a moment that we have spent together, it only gets better and better everyday.” I have very warm memories of my time with Pete. I pulled him into my arms and let him rest his head against my shoulder.
“Dad, this plane…it is more than I ever dreamed of and to be able to fly it…let me say that only my wings in Heaven will surpass the exhilaration that I get at the stick of this bad boy. I have dreamed all of my life of flying in a plane like this. I saw my dreams of being an Air Force fighter pilot dashed to the ground when I was outed as being a homosexual. This bad boy is more than a fighter jet. It flies higher and as fast as a fighter, but I can walk back here and get a cup of coffee and take a pee without having to go inside of a flght suit.”
I knew, but we didn’t discuss it. Pete had taken Bossaire out to the Air Force’s firing range south of Yuma and put him through his paces with live ammunition. When Andy had proposed the new plane to his contacts at the Pentagon it was suggested that I should have the capability to protect the plane, and myself, against attack. The armored body of the plane should protect him from anything that my enemies could throw at me, but with the powerful enemies that I was drawing to myself some of my friends could see the need for me to have protection. It would be costly and inconvenient to have a fighter escort fly with me wherever I went. Bossaire is equipped with twin fifty caliper aerial cannons, for self defense only. As the thought of Pete urinating in a flight suit crossed my twisted mind I was greatful that the cabin of the plane is pressurized. A flight suit would not be necessary, even if Pete were to get into and aerial dog fight, although air sick bags might be needed by me and my family.
Our flight to Nice seemed to take only minutes. In fact I was still sipping of my first cup of coffee, and only a half of the way through my e-mails when Bry told me to go to the back and strap the boys and myself in as we came in for a landing. When Mike opened the door and lowered the steps for us the boys stopped in their tracks, we were sitting beside the largest plane that they had ever seen. I looked over to the giant 787 with its teal blue swish running along the length of the fuselage and told the boys that they could go look inside of Travelaire IV. The plane only seats three hundred and fifty teenaged sized boys, it has a super long range and is very economic to operate. The large super boy can make the trip from Bangledesh without stopping along the way.
Captain Lawrence Frakes saluted me from the door of the giant jumbo jet that I had asked him to fly this new plane to Nice to transport the three hundred new boys that I had brought with me from Slovenija. I stepped back into Bossaire and looked into the face of Mike. “You are the most remarkable man in the whole world, dad. You never cease to give a guy a break, even when some of us don’t deserve it. I love this plane and I am proud to be a part of the crew. I swear to you that I will always do my utmost best to see to it that you arrive wherever you are going in the fastest and safest manner.” He was stammering with his words, but I could see his heart and the love that he was trying to portray.
Bry slipped in next to me as we rode from the airport to BAF. He didn’t speak a word, but I knew that he was trying to thank me in his own way. I don‘t the boys to thank me, I know how greatful they all are for the life that they live in my schools. I do enjoy being able to sit and hold one of them close to me and feel their heart beat against my body.
It was time to go home. My trip had lasted a little more than a month and I was nowhere closer to finding a home for my new found friends than when I had first begun. I had contacted the governments of every nation in Europe and each one of them in turn denied me the right to send a single one of the boys to their country, even when a boy was a born citizen of that country. No one dared to say it to me, but I read their hearts and knew that the boys were being denied homes in their own country because they were gay. I even learned that some ot the governments that I contacted would prefer to see the boys put to death.
I had no boys from England, that surprised me. I only had four from America and the rest were from small towns and villages throughout Europe. The one that really got to me was my friend, President Sarkozy. He flat out told me that his nation is suffering through their worst times in recent history because of the number of foreigners within their borders. He told me that if the families of the boys from France would allow them to return to their homes then he would have nothing to say. I had already pled with the parents of the boys and they were not willing to even acknowledge that they had a gay son, let alone allow him to return to their homes where the parents would be held up to ridicule for raising a pervert. The French government would not even allow their own citizens to attend either of the schools already established within their borders.
I received a personal visit from an official of the British government as she explained how bad it would be for her nation to allow more of these types of degenerates to immigrate to the island country. I was sick to my stomach by the whole situation. I decided to take the boys to C Chistopher and get them established in school there.
I held a very visably shaking Marin by the hand as we climbed aboard Bossaire for his first trip away from France. His trip from St. Tropez to Nice was the first time that the sixteen year old boy had ever been anywhere. He is a French citizen and has never left his country so it would have been possible for him to stay in France and attend either school there. But I had made him a promise to take him to Tucson with me. He took his seat and buckled himself in then just stared out of the window. Roddy saw him and took the next seat and began to talk about the beauty of St. Tropez. He was telling him about Tucson and how different the two cities were from one another. It seemed to work as Marin relaxed and enjoyed our flight to the good old USA.
Tyler had a large crew of older boys waiting for us at Camp Christopher. The boys were greeted with hugs and handshakes before being walked across the field to building E, their temporary home while the logistics of their housing and education were worked out. As quickly as the boys found their beds they were directed to the cafeteria on the first floor where Gigage and a crew of cooks had a hot meal prepared for them.
I took my leave of the boys and headed home aboard Travelhop. Bryan wanted to take me the last leg of my long journey so the FI pilot that had flown the chopper to the camp sat in the co-pilot’s seat when Pete and Mike took Bossaire to the FI terminal at the Marana Air Park for service. Roddy busied himself by pointing out the landmarks below us to Marin as we traveled over the mountain and home.
I took Marin across the street from our helipad and introduced him to the boys in the house. Jimmy came over to give Marin a big hug and welcomed him to Tucson. Edmund sat a plate full of eggplant lasagna. I kissed many of the boys and got a feel of hot buns before I headed down to the tunnel leading to my house and wife.
I really believe the best thing that happens in my life is returning home after a trip and getting to be with Ugitsiha, and of course my babies. All right call me soft, but I love my baby boys; I love all of my children, and I just can’t enjoy myself when I’m away from them. I never knew what joy came from being a daddy, but fatherhood is the greatest thing ever. All of the love that I have for my baby boys is returned to me tenfold by each one of them. I cannot even entertain the idea of my sweet boys growing up, It was hard enough when RD and Quemela were married, it tore the heart right out of me. I did not have the childhood days of RD, to watch him grow up, but what little time I had with him was quality time. Seeing him standing before the preacher with his beautiful bride at his side crushed my heart with tears of joy. That’s what life is all about, getting married and having children of their own, but it still hurts not to have the little boy playing at my side.
The next day was Friday and I insisted that Yuri and Roddy go to school so that they could get their lessons up to date. I will not allow a single boy in my family to let his studies get ahead of him, for any reason. That evening I passed by the nursery unit and peeked inside. Roddy seemed to be studying Yuri’s anus. I loooked at him and asked him why. “It’s not blue green, daddy.”
“What??” I asked.
“Well my teacher told us today that Uranus has a blue green colored atomsophere because of all of the methane gas. Yuri just cut a fart and I wanted to see if his anus was blue green.” I had to sit down as I laughed. I had smelled the results of Yuri’s gas attack when I had walked in the door, but I assured the boys that the air in the room did not appear to be green.
“Daddy, did you know that Col. Mustard was smothered with ketchup, pickles, and onions? Yeah, daddy, he got caught between the cheese and a hot bun.” I looked at little Cory and wondered at his wit. The four year old boy has started to come into his own. He is showing that he is not going to hide in the shadows of his brothers.
Cullen James looked at me then at Yuri. In a no nonsense voice he told me that his brother could not listen to the minds of others. He asked me why. I told him that Yuri was not of our blood and that his gifts were different. He told me that he could make Yuri hear. I let Yuri and Roddy listen to what was being said. Yuri was excited, and though he said nothing I knew that it was his heart’s desire to be able to read what was in another’s heart the way that Roddy and I do. I admonished him in the strongest language that this was not a gift to be misused. I told him that if he was not careful than great harm could come to the person that he was reading. Roddy, Cory Stevens, and I began to chant as Cullen James worked his magic. Ugitsiha came into the room and sat down with us and began to chant as well. She had long wished that her adopted son had the same powers that the rest of her sons have.
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.
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.