Chapter torty four


Our hope is that every homosexual youth in this country can find a home and someone to love them as they are.
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

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.
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 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.
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.

A strongly worded suggestion has resulted in this statement.

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.

Thus said, this story is copyrighted, ©2005-2011. It is therefore illegal to copy or use any part of this story on any other web site without my written permission.

This is a spelling and grammar corrected chapter. It now contains bookmarks for easy reference.
There are no pictures or music links in this on-line version.
    I guess it hit everybody at once. We were on our way to a funeral. We had come to Georgia to say good bye to Steve "Fly's Over Fox, Under Eagle" Conway, Cory's grandfather. Steve had been with us through the entire trip and the boys had patted his urn as it was anchored to the top of the engine cowling between the two front seats. They said hello to the man they had all come to know and love. Cullen was the only one that had not met him as he died just weeks before Cullen became part or our family.
    Tuesday morning the second of August 2005 we headed westward into Georgia on U.S. highway 123. It was a little less than thirty miles to the small town of Westminister then about fifteen winding mountain miles to the old Cherokee home lands. To the land of my fathers, Tallulah Falls.
    The town had a banner across the street welcoming home Chief Steve "Fly's Over Fox, Under Eagle" Conway. As Traveler© made its way up the main street people stopped and bowed their heads. I had told the city fathers that I was coming and the reason for our visit. They had turned out to welcome one of their own home, after so many years.
    A police car pulled around in front of us and turned on his flashing lights. He escorted us to a place where we could park. A large crowd had begun to gather. The boys quickly put on their ties and made themselves presentable. We stepped out of Traveler© and formed two lines on either side of the door. Cory came out carrying his grandfather with all of the dignity that the boy could muster. The tears literally poured from his young face as Cullen fell in beside him to help make the walk to a small podium that had been set up.
    The tribal chief came up to me and introduced me to the mayor of the town. They had arranged for a simple ceremony and lunch afterwards. I was asked to speak. The townsfolk wanted to know the history of this son of the mountains that had been snatched away so barbarically.
    The boys took seats arranged for them. Cory and Cullen sat together at the front. Chief Steve sat in his polished earthen jar on the podium where all could see him. I stood up. "I can't tell you anything about what our ancestors went through on that barbarous march westward. The history books are full of tails of death and disease. Of a people forced to leave home with only what they had on their back at the time. No food, no blankets, no provision was made for them as they marched. From Georgia to Arkansas they marched, in the dead of winter. Many died along the way. It was truly a Trail of Tears.
    "The following spring the tribes were moved into, what is now, eastern Oklahoma and the Indian Nations. The land was set aside for the Indians perpetually, or until the white man wanted it for something else. My family managed to survive. Steve is my grand uncle. My mother was one of his brother's grand daughters. Young Cory here is the grandson of Steve Conway. Cory's father was killed in a car accident shortly after the boy was born and through the powerful workings of the Great Spirit Cory and Steve were brought together. In Steve both of us found a man to be proud of. A strong leader amongst his people. A strong leader amongst the white man, also. Steve was an attorney and had practiced law, making headway for the oppressed of the area where he lived.
    "Steve lived a long and full life and saw much of our history with his own eyes. He came to live out his final days with Cory and me. We were blessed to have him with us to share his great knowledge. Steve had one final request. He asked that his remains be scattered about the lands of our fathers. We have come here, to Tallulah Falls, to honor that request."
    I sat down and asked Cory if he wanted to say anything. He was too far out of it to even try to speak. Several of the Elders gathered with drums and bells and began to chant for a fallen warrior. We loaded up in the back of pickup trucks and made a pilgrimage to the top of a beautiful mountain looking down on the entire river valley and the lake therein. I opened the jar and let Cory take a handful of ashes. I offered the urn to Cullen who took a handful. Each of the Elders took a handful. Together we tossed our piece of the man we loved to the winds and let them settle over the land of our roots.
    Cory was treated as royalty. We had lunch as the townsfolk gathered around to talk to all of us. I wondered what my urchins were saying. I worried that we would all be tarred and feathered, or maybe scalped, if it was learned that we were all gay. Squaw men was what Steve had called it. It would go so much worse for me being that I was the molester of so many young boys. A local hotel provided rooms for all of us for the night at no charge. We found food in abundance as folks came to talk to Cory and me about life in Oklahoma.
    Tallulah Falls is actually a series of six waterfalls cascading down through Tallulah Gorge. The Town, named after the falls, is conveniently located on Highway 441/23 in the Northeast corner of the scenic Georgia mountains. It was built along the Tallulah Gorge, an ancient, awesome, 1000 foot chasm carved out by the Tallulah River.
    We stood on an overlook and could see the kayakers braving Sweet Sixteen Falls at the bottom of the gorge, It was pretty and I am glad that the boys got to see it, but I was ready to get the hell out of there. I fired Traveler's© glow coils at five the following morning and moved the old boy through town before the townsfolk were up and about.

    I was not too wild about narrow, winding mountain roads with Traveler© so we took the long way around and headed southwest on U.S. 23 until I was back on I-85. I kept my foot to the metal until we pulled into Mobile, Alabama. I knew that there was no reason to go to Pensacola. Jim really didn't know anything about that house as he had never been there until days before the destruction from the last season's hurricane.
    I pulled into our favorite truck stop. Jerry spotted it first and began to fret. Jim and Tim were both happy to be there. It was a trip down memory lane for all four of us.
    I herded my tribe through the buffet line. I looked back to see if there was any food left on it only to see two people refilling various pans with fresh food.
    I handed Jerry my cell and told him to call his neighbor lady and inquire about her. He talked a bit and grew solemn. When he started to cry I took the phone and talked to the lady myself. When I identified myself she seemed happy. She knew that the boys were safe. I asked her if she would be willing to take a taxi to the truck stop to see the boys and told her that I would pay for it. She did want to see them so it was arranged.
    I disconnected so that I could hear what Jerry was telling Tim. Their father's were dead, but he didn't have the details. His dad was murdered in prison and Tim's dad was just dead. I told them to eat their lunch while it was still warm, that their friend was on the way over. I moved to the opposite side of the table so I could see the front door and the taxi as it arrived.
    Within ten minutes a taxi pulled up and I rushed outside. She was getting out of the car and trying to hand the driver a ten dollar bill. I pulled her hand back and gave the man a twenty then led her inside. Jerry and Tim rushed to her to giver her a hug.

    Jerry's father was an in your face Christian and he made many enemies in prison. Someone found his jacket and outed the fact that he was serving time for child abuse. He had beaten his own son severely. A youngster—the yard name given to a young first offense inmate—hoping to make a name for himself offed the loud mouth. He didn't know that the preacher man had beat his son for being a queer. The youngster was severely beaten for his efforts and turned in to the guards. He was facing first degree murder charges and would never get out of prison. His nine month stint for drug possession was going to turn into natural life.
    Tim's dad was found beaten to death and the hit man that he had hired was found shot with the gun in Mr. Mark's pocket. It had been made to look as if the hit man had beaten Mr. Mark who shot his attacker before dying of his injuries. Yeah, sure, and I know of some swamp land in Georgia that I'll sell you for only ten thousand dollars an acre. Justice prevails. Sometimes slowly, but eventually everybody will get what they deserve.
    Jerry wanted to pay for the van. The lady didn't want his money. We were at the gift shop by the front door as she saw a vase that she really wanted. I let her do her thing, but when she reached out to hand her check to the clerk I grabbed it and tore it up. I told her that her money was no good here and paid for the vase as a gift for delivering my boys to me. I gave her the pieces of her torn check, well, most of them. Back in Traveler© I took Jerry and Tim aside, quite a task in an RV with twelve other boys inside. I asked them if they wanted to pay for the van. They did. I asked how much it was worth. They didn't know. I told them that new the van probably sold for about twenty five thousand dollars. She had paid for insurance and title change and I thought that thirty thousand dollars was a nice number.
    I logged on to my computer and transferred fifteen thousand dollars from Tim to Jerry. I then used the routing and account numbers from the bottom of the torn up check and transferred thirty thousand dollars into her account for the sale of a fully equipped vehicle and miscellaneous accessories. I put the vehicle VIN and the license plate numbers on the check for identification as a bonafide transaction. By marking the deposit thus she would avoid paying taxes or losing benefits. If she was getting food stamps they might cut her back some, but her Social Security and other retirement benefits would not be affected. Both boys kissed me and thanked me for being so smart. I bask in their praise.
    Yeah, it was a long way out of the way, but we had closed another loose end that I really had wanted to settle. The lady had been so good to those two boys and I did not want to see her do without because of a generous heart. I put the nose of Traveler© west on I-10 until we pulled in to the outskirts between Biloxi and Gulfport, Mississippi. It took me a few minutes to locate what I was looking for when Pete jerked up as if he had been asleep. He looked at me and grinned like an old Cadillac grill.
    "There it is." He excitedly pointed across the road. I found a turnout and drove across the road to the small pullout where I had found a sodden Pete, covered in his own vomit and looking like death on the hoof. He was as animated as I have ever seen him as he ran over to show the boys where he was passed out. He told his story of looking up into the face of god and then grabbed me and pushed me to the sand as he began to hump me and kiss me with deep, deep passion. The other boys stood around making wise cracks, but then they too began to love their lovers. It was getting late and I had thought of another treat for the boys so we needed to hurry.
    I had done my on-line research too. I moved down an off ramp from I-10 to the streets of New Orleans. I drove to an RV park with a shuttle that would take us over to the famous Bourbon Street area. It was almost eight PM when we left the RV park. I knew the boys would have a blast just seeing the place. They did. They prowled the shops and flirted with girls and guys. They waved their tight little tushies at a group outside a gay bar. Most of them even deep kissed each other with a hand inside the pants grope of their lover while they watched the people around them for the different reactions. Our last shuttle back to Traveler© was at twelve twenty and I got the boys settled down and into bed. Yeah, sure. They settled down a week later.
    Early morning I headed the boys to a breakfast buffet nearby then we climbed aboard our mobile home and cruised through the city. We were astounded as to how dirty and derelict the place appeared. For such an amazing city it just didn't seem as if the city fathers had any pride in her. Garbage was blowing along the roadways. Houses were in serious disrepair and yet they were occupied. I meandered back to I-10 and headed up and over to Lafayette then north on I 49. By mid-afternoon we pulled up in front of Steve's old house, in Oklahoma, which now belonged to Cory. We were going to spend the rest of our summer vacation in our own woods.

    It was Friday afternoon the fifth of August. We had been doing some serious traveling and I won't even tell you how fast we had been going. I had placed a piece of paper over the speedometer so that the boys wouldn't see how in jeopardy I was putting their lives. I'll just state it this way, nothing ever passed us from Atlanta to New Orleans. I took it much slower Friday morning as I headed on north. I was fighting my own demons. That had been the date of my mother's birth. That was one day that I always celebrated, no matter where I was or what I was doing I sought my mother out to spend that day with her until the last day she spent on this side of the grass.

How can a man say goodbye to mom? Here is his first love, the only love he had until he was ten or twelve. Then he had to let her go. It was no longer cool to cuddle up to mom. It was no longer thought manly to be kissed by mom .He grew separate from her and learned to walk as a man. So many times through high school he wanted to draw her aside and be a little boy all over again but this was not acceptable. As he entered adulthood he often looked back, cautiously, to be sure that mom was still there. It was important to him that mom think well of him and be proud of what he was doing. Mom's acceptacne of his life-style and life-choices were always of manifest interest to him. He always sought that word of encouragement or soft "well done, son" from mom.
Now mom is gone. How can he say goodbye?

    A group of boys was riding horses as we drove in. Cory spotted a couple he knew and was telling of their wonderful endowments as the other boys checked them out through the windows. I pulled up in front of the house. Cory charged out to great his cousins. They jumped off of their horses and gathered around. Cory dragged one boy over that I remembered well. This boy had more cock than the horse he was riding. I grabbed the boy and pulled him to me. He wasn't shy, he knew I wanted a kiss and I got it. Little fucker's tongue is half as long as his dick. He licked the jam from between my toes, from the inside.
    The cousins learned that we were staying for a spell and ran for their horses. My boy, by now I remembered his name was 8QR—Tequasi—Tracy, asked if they could stay at the house that night, did we want to party? He got a resounding affirmative from all thirteen boys as he rode off at full gallop.
    The boys were back within the hour and they were leading a car along behind them. Luke and Jerry had made the trip. As we found bedrooms and partners for everyone the relations started to arrive. I heard the shouting and laughing so I donned a pair of shorts and headed to the door. The fire pit was being cleaned out and a side of beef was being hung over the hole. In short order a blazing fire was searing the meat so that it would lose less of its juices as it slow cooked for most of the night.
    Beer flowed out of the rocks as did relations. Everyone came down to say hello. Just before sunset the place got really quiet. I looked up the road to see an old Chevy truck bounding along the dirt trail. It pulled up to a stop. The engine sputtered and coughed a spell before it finally went silent. Cory stood beside me holding my hand as he shook in abject fear. I have no idea what he was afraid of. A man stepped from the truck and went around to the passenger side. He put his foot against the bed of the truck and gave a mighty yank. Suddenly the door of the old red wreck sprung open and Sandra, Cory's mother, stepped out. Cory let out a little whimper on seeing her. I squeezed his hand and told him to go say hi to her.
    Cory started across the narrow stretch to the truck. Sandra looked at her boy and ran to meet him. She grabbed him and kissed him while holding him close. She stepped back to appraise him, as only a mother can, then she kissed him again. The man with her shook hands with the boy then gave him a fatherly type hug which Cory pulled back from. The three stood and talked a moment as a beautiful raven haired maiden approached them.
    She stood looking at Cory and he at her. There was chemistry there. My boy was growing up. Well he is seventeen now and a senior in high school. Besides that, Steve had told him that he owed him and the tribe a son. A little Cory, how sweet. I can just see Cory changing diapers and feeding a baby. Cory led the small group over to me. Sandra was nice to me as she thanked me for bringing Cory home. She asked how long we were going to stay. I told her that school would start in two weeks, on the twenty second of August. We would stay until Saturday the twentieth. She was pleased with that as was the little girl.
    Af—Sagi (sah gee)—Sarah was a beautiful child and I could well see how Cory was enchanted by her. But opposites? Cory was very light complected with light brown hair where Sarah was dark skinned and her hair was raven black. She had the high cheek bones and wide face of the tribe. Their children would be beautiful. I was in my own little dream world.
    A beer was put in my hand. I turned to see Pete smiling at me. Cullen stood beside him looking lost and forgotten. Cory grabbed him and kissed him, deeply with a big show of tongue. "Hey mom, this is my boyfriend. He is the absolute best." Sandra's shoulders sagged. Sarah smiled a wain smile that was put in place.
    The stepfather tensed up, "Another fucking squaw man. This tribe is all going queer." He spun on his heel and walked over to a group of men drinking beer. The men continued to drink, late into the night they continued to drink. The women prepared a nice table of food. Most of my boys had never tasted venison. It has a wild, gamey taste and one that needs be acquired. I watched them as they tasted a bite and tried very hard to determine if they liked it or not. On this land, as members of the tribe, Cory and I are allowed to hunt deer year round. I was mixed about taking the boys on a hunt and since they didn't seem to enjoy the meat I decided on a better plan.
    It was a week later that I divided the boys into groups of three. I put Cory over one group, I took one, and I got two of the older tribal boys to lead the other two. We all went deer hunting. Each boy was armed with a throw away camera with a nothing lens on it. The game plan was to see who could get close enough to get the best picture before spooking the deer. Now talk about fun, the boys were so excited that we had to do this daily for the entire last two weeks of our stay. I am going to have several of the boys' photographs enlarged. Not only did they get close enough to reach out and touch the animals their composition was fantastic. I am sure that entered into a contest the judges would have a serious problem identifying the best of the bunch. In our new games room we now have twenty, three foot by two foot full color pictures of deer in the wild hanging on the walls. I'll tell you about the game room in a few minutes.

    I had a serious scare when I stopped in town to pick up the photographs. The young man at the drug store seemed extra sullen. He kept his head down and I could barely hear what he was saying. Finally he looked around and he took me behind the counter to a storeroom with a little break area for the employees. He told me that by law he was supposed to call the county sheriff and turn the pictures over. I looked at him. He was shaking. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a stack of around twenty pictures of my naked boys doing unnatural things to one another in the wood. He held up one picture of Christopher at full staff. "Is he real or is that some sort of trick. I looked at the negative and…"
    I turned around and opened the door. I called Christopher over. I shut the door behind him. I showed him the picture. "Son, it is illegal to take pictures like this. This man wants to know if it is real or did you use trick photography." Christopher is sharp. He didn't miss a beat. He pulled his pants down and stroked himself up. I looked at the clerk, "I think that is real." The boy bent over and took about half of Christopher into his throat. I invited him out to dinner when he got off that night. He isn't much to talk about, but he left us with his belly bulging with cum. He lost his cherry ass along the way too. He came back out four or five times before we had to leave. Oh, and I have all the pictures, but the young clerk has copies for his quiet times.

    Oh, how I wish we could have stayed longer. All of us felt so peaceful and serene as we traipsed through the woods, au natural. We weren't in the tall pines as in New York, we were in a forest of indigenous trees that began to change their color signaling the approaching autumn and the beginning of school.
    We had a houseful of young guests every night as boys from all over the area came to suck and get sucked by the white boys. It was rather comical as the parents watched the goings on. It just seemed natural for these things to be happening. If we had done what we were doing in the city we would all have been in jail, but out there it was part of growing up. We almost acquired a new face, however.

    %f—Magi (mah gee)—Michael was fourteen. His dad had married a girl from the tribe and gone off to the Marines. Five years back he had been sent to Afghanistan, he didn't return. His mother had returned to the tribe, but he was…well how should I say this? The boy was rejected. Like it was his fault that he was of mixed blood. He could have been Cory's little brother. He had the same coloration, skin and hair. He was hung like a tribesman, but there the blood seemed to end. The other boys used him. He was the butt of their activities and I caught on the first day what they were doing to him.
    I sought out his mother and found out that she had a man interested in her, but he would not have the boy. I need this. I asked her to let me adopt him. It's amazing what can be done in a small community like that one is when you have the right name. My name was well known as was Cory. Cory and I had a blood right plus I had a link because of what Steve had left me. I was to be the father of fourteen year old Michael Adam Winfrey in ten days. Magi, as he wanted to be known, loved the idea. He did not like the life he was living. He wasn't sure if he was gay, but he was getting cock shoved in him and down him so often every day that he had no time for other thoughts.
    Pete didn't come to my room that night. He left Magi and I to get to know each other. I was not taken with Magi. I felt sorry for him, but he was nothing. He seemed to have his own agenda. I felt a mistrust deep inside me. The next morning Pete took off with his group to go hunting without so much as a kiss. I was hurt. That evening I went to Pete's room and barged in like I owned the place, which I do…Anyway I sat down next to Pete and stared at him. Pete's face said volumes as it twisted and tears tried to come up, but were pulled back. Finally he broke. I put my arms around him and held him. His body shook, but something was different. These were not tears of hurt, but of anger. Something had happened to my boy. "Pete, I love you. I thought that we were clear on the beach that we would be together forever. Are you breaking my heart here, lover boy? I can't bear to think of my life without you in it."
    "Make love to me." Of course. I lay with Pete His love was passionate and sincere. Over and over he decried his love for me, usually when I had my cock stuck up somewhere under his spleen and liver. Pete is not a flamboyant fag, none of the boys are. No one would ever knows the kind of lover that Pete is until they have been in bed with him. He is give and take and very passionate at that. He loves to have me fuck him, long and hard. The harder it is the more he likes it. I have watched him with others, especially Cory, with whom he has a strong affinity. With him he takes life slow and easy. He likes to lavish attention on his partner as they return it to him. This is one boy that I will never be able to get enough of. One boy I will ever get over if he is leaving me.
    We lay together in afterglow. Our lips were locked and our tongues entangled. A knock at the door startled us. No one knocks on a locked door in this house. "Daddy, where are you? Are you coming to bed?" It was Magi. Pete turned stiff as a board. He pulled away from me and I could see his face. I saw hate. I saw rage. I saw a side of Pete that I had not seen in any boy in my house. Magi was at the core of it.
    I grabbed Pete and held him. His eyes locked on mine. "Calm down. He is not coming in here, period. What has happened?"
    "I am not a tattle tale."
    "You are now. Give it up or I will be on you like you can't believe possible. What has happened?"
    Magi has a hidden agenda. The relations had major designs on Steve's estate. Magi's mother had drilled it into the boy's head that he should get a major part of that estate and set her and his, soon to be, new stepfather up for life. As my son he would be entitled to a large piece of what I must be worth and as they had it figured it must be several hundred thousand dollars. To add insult to injury the boy had set his sights on dominating me. He had gotten with Pete early on and told him in no uncertain terms that he was my son and heir and that he would cause me nothing, but pain if Pete came anywhere near me. He told Pete that he was sure that the police would have a serious interest in a man who was having sex with so many young boys and if he didn't get his way the police would know, quickly.
    I was livid. Pete held me while I shook. I could hardly get my mind around this deceit. I am not a complete innocent. I know that such people exist. I had just never encountered one. It was almost ten o'clock and tomorrow was a full day, but I had to deal with this now or end up in a nut house before morning. I called the boys together for something that we had never had before, a discipline hearing.
    Everyone circled about me. "I have been the luckiest faggot on the face of the planet. Seventeen months ago, give or take a few days, I pulled in for a piss stop in Yuma, Arizona. I found a hungry, lonesome, and abandoned Turner in serious need of help. I took him in and used his little body for my sexual needs." Turner was all over me decrying the truthfulness of my statement. I hugged him as I continued, "He led me to his tight bodied brother who found his own place in my bed fulfilling my sexual needs. Within the week Trevor and Alec got their little bodies ravaged by this molester of little boys.
    "I was not satisfied that I had two wonderful boys as my wards and responsibility. I set out to find and fuck more boys. I have a sex drive that just cannot be stemmed, as I believe everyone here can testify. I got back on the road in search of hard, cum filled cock. Pete was a victim followed very shortly by Jim. Tim and Jerry got my cock up their ass and down their throat hours later. I was insatiable.
    "I still needed more. I found Cory and the kind of love that the world is built on. Still needing something else I traveled finding Cas. Cas became the first boy that I ever moved into my house. Cas showed me love, but I wanted more yet. I left home to find Christopher. Christopher showed me that I needed Cory. Together we picked him up and brought him home to live with Cas and me.
    "In short order, circumstances brought Jerry and Tim to live in this house with our growing family. Lew was barely able to find his way to us before all hell broke on his little ass. Jim became a part of us as did Trevor and Alec. Cullen came to us like a breath of spring and we have all loved to breathe the air he shares with us." Several boys popped off about a recent farting contest that Cullen won by emptying the room. They didn't think his air was fresh.
    "Jerry and Luke are part of our family now. We are a house of trust and love. We are equals and share in everything. We have never had a cross word or a single discipline problem… before now." I left the words hanging. The boys looked around and at each other. Slowly every eye went to the one person of whom I had not spoken. Magi began to shake and look for a way out.
    "This has just never happened before and it must be addressed right now. Magi, I want you to tell the family what I am talking about." Of course he knew nothing. He was as innocent as a newborn lamb. He extolled his love for everyone in he house and wanted everyone to know how glad he was to be here and away from the treatment that he had been subjected to at home.
    "Magi, I have never had to punish a boy in my life. Believe me, I am not opposed to spanking an errant child and you sir have been errant. You will tell this family what you have done or believe me it will go much worse for you when it is told for you." Magi was sure that he had no idea to what I was referring. I sat back with a sigh. I nodded at Pete. Pete asked the boys to pray with him. He prayed that the good Lord would have mercy on Magi because at this point he couldn't. He asked Jesus to help him to forgive Magi and learn to love him. Pete was in real trouble as his emotions over this boy played out in his mind. Pete sat down beside me so that he could face the boys and told his story. It went much deeper than he had told me, but Pete laid out every bit of the story. I watched the boys as they gritted their teeth and held themselves back. They literally wanted to tear the boy into pieces.
    I asked the boys what they felt we should do about this. The overwhelming decision was to stake the boy out on an ant hill. They wanted to see him spanked within an inch of his life. They, everyone, agreed that this was probably the root of his trouble, he had never been spanked before. I reminded them of his threats and what it would be like to have him bruised from head to foot because once started I would not want to stop.
    Did I ever tell you that Cory is probably the smartest kid I ever knew. He has more common sense in him that all of the rest of us combined. He got up and picked up the phone. He talked for about ten minutes then came back to the group and handed me a wide leather belt. "Beat the bastard. You're covered." Magi looked terrified.
    "I will, I'll go to the police. I'll tell them all about what you faggots do in this house. I'll get all of you…" He was mobbed. He was tied over a wooden bench with his bare ass up for all to see. Cory took the belt from me and handed it to Pete.
    "No, I'll kill the ass hole."
    "Two licks." Cory told him. The boy's screams filled the air as two of the hardest hits I ever saw with a belt were delivered. Cory handed the belt to Turner and it went around the room to each boy in the order of his joining the family. They were indignant that such a thing could happen. The belt was handed to me with the instructions that I was to apply two licks for every boy in the house. Forgive me, I dealt out my anger on this boy's ass with thirty super hard blows. Every stripe by every boy in the house had landed exactly on the boys pert ass. He was bruised and would be for sometime, but there was no broken skin and no bruises anywhere else on his body.
    Cory sat and talked in Ewf—Tsalagi—to Magi. Magi's eyes got huge. He looked around the room and at me. He started to speak and Cory slugged him right in the mouth. He told Magi that he was never, ever to speak to me except to respond to something I might say to him first. Magi was crying and saying that he didn't know. Cory threatened to hit him again if he didn't shut up.
    The following morning several tribal leaders came to the house. Magi was taken out to them. Cory spoke to the chiefs in Tsalagi, "This boy is a homosexual. Some of us like to play around a bit, but we are not queer like this squaw boy. We spanked his ass like a faggot and we now put him away from us, he is never to come near us again. I claim his life if he ever comes near my brothers from this day forth." The elder men looked on Cory and smiled. The boy was led away and returned to his mother. We watched as many of the tribal boys gathered around. Magi was taken to a nearby outbuilding and his screams could be heard for the rest of the day. Tracy came by later to play a little. He told me that Magi was an ass hole and that no one liked him. He always tried to have his own way. He had been fucked by all of the elders at least twice today and every boy that could make cum had been called to use the new squaw boy. He would forever be made to wear ladies clothes and yield himself to any man or boy who wanted him. He would be taught how to make a home for a man, to cook and to make clothes. He would never marry, but forever would serve with his body.
    Now I did want to rescue him. My boys held me back as I cried for Magi. I called and stopped the adoption proceedings stating simply that the boy and I were not going to be able to get along. I asked Cory what he had been telling the boy the night before. Cory smiled as he told us that he really wanted Magi to know what he had fucked up. Cory had told him about how much money each boy in the family had and how I was making more money for them every day. He saw that he had just blown the chance at having millions of dollars of his own. Cory rubbed it in that he would be forever nothing. He shared tribal law with the boy about how traitors were dealt with and what kind of future he could expect.
    Cory and I went to Magi's mother and asked her if this is what she wanted for her son. Of course she didn't. I asked her if she would be willing to send him away to a school in New York. She was willing to do almost anything to be rid of him so that she could marry. I loathe people like her. Magi sat with his legs crossed and stared at the floor as we talked. I told him to look at me. I described BAG Boys to him. He listened intently. Cory told him about the school, the forests, and what was taught. He told him that the boys ran naked in the forest which made Magi laugh. The boy is gay, but trying to hide it for his own reasons. I told Magi and his mother that I would put him on a plane and fly him to New York. There was a condition. He had to stay for two years and keep his grades up or he would have to pay me back and return to being the tribes new Squaw Man. He agreed. I had his future stepfather drive him to Tulsa International Airport that evening and put him on a flight to Chicago where he would change over to Albany. I arranged with JB to have him picked up thefollowing morning. I confirmed each leg of his flight as he made his way across country and out my hair for a couple of years. Who knows, he might change and so might I, into a sixty six Shelby Cobra.

    Cory had taken to spending long hours with Sagi. I loved it. The boy is seventeen and growing his wings. He seemed happier than I had seen him in some time. It is hard to tell with Cory. He has a way of masking his feelings as part of his self preservation technique. I suppose if I had undergone what this beautiful lad had gone though I would be more like him. Cory would come to my bed late at night and lay on his back. He pulled his feet back and placed them flat against the headboard of the bed and told me to show him what real love was like. Pete would get up close to us and the three of us would swap spit as I went as deep as I could go into Cory, over and over again. I filled him with my love and then held him for the rest of the night as we slept, face to face. Pete would spoon in behind me and I was cradled in the womb of love from the two most precious people on the face of the earth.
    We had to get home. We had school starting on Monday. It was with a sad heart that the boys loaded their things in Traveler© and we set course for Tucson.

    I drove straight through, as usual. It was just over fourteen hours at the speed limit so we made it in just over ten. I did stop in Oklahoma City to feed Traveler© and all those aboard. We were eating lunch when the news story showed on the television. The King was dead. I looked at Cullen, his face went ashen. His picture was on the TV. A world wide hunt was on for the new King. My cell phone rang. My sister, Eloise, sounded frightened. She wanted to know that Cullen was okay. I assured her that he was. I told her that we were on the road after a summer of vacation around the country and that we would be home late that evening. I told her that I would call her on the scrambler the following morning. Now, more than ever, Cullen was in real danger. Until that crown sits on top of that boy's head he is open game to a multitude of enemies.

    It was just past seven PM when I drove up to the house. The boys charged for the door. Alec got to the key pad first. He placed his left hand on the palm reader and punched in his code. The door lock snapped as the boys filed inside. I laid back and entered in slowly to see the wide eyed stares as the boys looked around, not sure if they were where they were supposed to be or not.
    The kitchen, entry hall, and front room that had served as our living room and gathering place was gone. Everything had been redone. Hey, I had thirteen boys when I left and we were gone for the better part of three months. I returned home with fifteen boys. I knew then that we needed more space. Now I have two new boys in the mix and I am glad that I did all of this work.
    A walk way wrapped around the top of the room from the old staircase across the front of the house and over to the wall between the garage and the old front room. The old front room was set in a more formal fashion with four sofas in a square. The fireplace was no longer there. The kitchen was now part of the front entry room. Where the glass doors had once been was a long wall between a huge dining room with a table surrounded by twenty chairs with the two ends open. No sitting at the head of the table, we all sat side by side.
    The doorway from the patio to my bedroom was gone as that end of the great room was set up for the gathering place. On the other end was where the big changes came about. First of all Cas and Tyler's little bungalow was now three large bedrooms with three private baths. I left them a small kitchenette with a large refrigerator and a place to prepare a meal for two, should the desire arrive.
    The little house now had an upper floor that extended up to the back of the old house. There was a large rumpus room over the bungalow. It was room filled with foosball, pool tables, arcade games, everything I could think of to occupy the mind of a teenage boy. We decorated the room with the boy's pictures from their hunting trip. Every boy had gotten a trophy shot. Each one was triple blue ribbon quality. As we hung a picture I gave its facilitator a deep kiss. I do really love each one of the boys so very much. I will never recover when the first one moves out on me.
    On from the games room were four more bedrooms each with a private bath. over the area where nothing had been before. Behind the old fireplace and over the garage, were four more bedrooms, each bedroom had its own bath. Each bathroom in the house had a six foot by eight foot shower with multiple shower heads, two lavatories, a urinal and a toilet. All the amenities for boys and sex.
    The old bedrooms on the west end of the house were basically the same except for paint and new carpet and remodeled bathrooms. I didn't go so far as to tear that end of the house out, but the shared bathroom, both upstairs and down had been remodeled. There were two, what might be called, master bedrooms. Mine and the one downstairs where Steve had lived. Both of these had new and improved baths. I had redone my bathroom to make it more of a party room. The opening from my bedroom to the patio had been moved to make way for the new dining room. The theater and underground rooms were still the same. I had changed the theater a bit and built in a massive speaker system to accommodate the band.
    I told the boys that they could sleep wherever they wanted tonight and then they could take their time over the week end choosing their new rooms. I made one thing very clear to them. There were eighteen bedrooms to choose from. Single bedrooms were now available. No one had to share a room with anyone else. It was their choice. I got some murmers then some serious stares. I turned and went to my room. Pete followed behind me and shut the door.

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