Chapter 64


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.

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    I hit the barracks. Everyone was packed and dressed. They were eager to get on the road and head home. We were facing three days of traveling with thirty five boys and three adults. Well really ten. Cas, Tyler, Luke, Gerald, Tim, Jerry and Pete, are all over eighteen. It was for this reason that I had singled them out for driving lessons while Pete and I made my trip to take the Minor boys home. They had spent the day on the far side of the base, out of sight of the other boys, as they learned to drive big buses with limited vision through rows of orange cones. They spent an hour on the highway navigating their way through the traffic returning to the city after a long weekend. The instructors told us that each boy was a superb driver and that they had no qualms at approving them for relief drivers for our trip.
    I only plan to use them during daylight hours. They need road experience to build their confidence. They don't know what they have trained for, but they will learn Tuesday morning. In the meantime, I am going to get some quiet sex and rest. I goosed Cory and asked him if he would like to spend the next sixteen hours trying to get things straight between us. He led me to the suite. I broached a question that I had been searching for an answer to, but could not decide. "Gentlemen, we are all in a hurry to get home. We are not flying this time. We are driving. I have to deliver two young men to their families which requires my going one way with the rest of you going another so flying doesn't fit in.
    "Because of circumstances that all of you are aware of, there are some of you that will not be out of my sight until our day in court has come and gone. There are others that also need to be under special protection. If I take Les and Lance to Alabama. I won't see the rest of you for two or three days, well four, I will add a day to my travels. You will all be home at least a full day ahead of me and I will be a nervous wreck wondering about Branden, Jace, and Frank. I am going to put them under Andy's very capable wing, but all of you know how I am about you boys, especially when you're not in my sight."
    "You mean kind of like we are about you when you take off to go fishing or get blown to bits by some cheap clown?" Tim called out. Tim never says anything. That made warm fuzzies crawl through me. "I am going to tell it like it needs to be. You have the ones that need to be with you, but Jerry and I would like to go with you so that we can see these boys' parents and tell them what the boys have suffered. Believe me, I know how their parents are going to react to this. I grew up next door to them. They are going to blame the boys and they are going to have trouble with the gay part of what these two guys suffered. I have to be there, Chris. Why don't we stay together and all travel as a family? Okay?" Tim knew the score because he was one of my young drivers. The other boys didn't yet know how they were getting home. Tim had the answer that I had always wanted, but couldn't justify until he mentioned the parents' reaction.
    "You got it, tiger. Is everything stowed?"
    "Triple checked, inventory matches. Cas has all the reports," Pete called out.
    "Thank you mommy," a chorus of voices sang. A quick look at the grin on Cullen's face confirmed that he was behind that one. Gotta love em. I am so glad that he is with me. I could not stand to loose one boy, not even Toby.
    "When I call your name I want you to pick up your carry on and follow your leader. First group follow Cas. Kyle Simpson, Chad Jones, Jason Farley, Evan Anson, Jeff Farley, Mark Franklin, Lance Kelly, Lester Tinsley. Go boys, daylight's burning. All right now, second group leader Tim. Jerry Thompson, Peter Engblahm, Jim Watkins, Arthur Hendon, Toby Minor, Christopher Dickerson, Eric Dickson, Kenny Minor. Doing well, moving nicely." A shrill squeal pierced our eardrums as Jim saw his dad's big RV outside. "Next group follow Luke. Gerald Hodges, Brad Garcia, Jayson Adams, Alec Thomas, Trevor Thomas, Mike Winfrey-Dickson, Jan Morrison. No sound effects? Good let's go with the last group who'll be led by Tyler. Franklin Rothsfeld, Jason Weller, Branden Dubois, Bryan West, Cullen Muneday, Cory Dickson, Turner Youngman, Lew Casper."
    I shook my head at Ken and Andy. We did a group hug and said a prayer for travel mercies. We sealed it with a kiss and a tight hug. The route we had chosen would take us over three thousand miles. We'd go south on I-85 to Montgomery, Ala. the switch over to I-65 to drop off two youngsters in Mobile, Alabama. Then we would have to double back on I-65 because of the hurricane damage. We would go up to Nashville, Tenn. to catch I-40 all the way to Albuquerque, New Mexico then south on I-25 to I-10 and westward for home.
    The boys were milling about outside of the RVs as we came up. Trevor and Alec ran to give their dad a hug. Jim hugged me. I told him that four of Andy's men had driven up with Ken to bring us our very own wheels. The big mother that Andy and Tyler were pushing up the rear with was named Traveler Too©. I bought the beast, but I was going to ride home with my old boy. We have a lot of history over the last two years and I'm not ready to give up on him yet.
    "Boys. Cas, Tim, Luke, Tyler, Cory, Jerry, Pete, Gerald, and Brad have been taking lessons on driving these big boys this week end. They can all drive any of the vehicles with ease. Andy, Kenneth and I are going to be riding shotgun so don't even try for that one. We plan to drive day and night so that we can get home. Our first stop will be in Mobile. We will get in there quite late so we will stop and sleep. I know that the guys will tell you new boys about where we will be. We stopped there last summer. After we deliver our two rescuees we will go north to Nashville where we will leave Cory who is wanted for stealing food from the stores there so that he and his mother could eat." The boys began to hit at Cory and call him, thief, and shoplifter, and then some not nice boy names until I got them under control again.
    "Boys, please hear me well. Your brothers are driving. For the most part this is the first time they have driven for any real distance. These vehicles are large and I will tell you the truth, they are scared. If they weren't I wouldn't want them driving my precious family. I want you guys to keep it down. No sudden loud noises, no bugging the driver for any reason. You guys with Tim and Jerry get this clear. You are the youngest. You are destined to be the loudest and the worst. Mommie is riding with you and I made sure he is wearing a wide belt. I don't want a report from him. I hate mommies who say, "Just wait till I tell your dad what you did. You will regret it." I told Pete to give you at least ten hard whacks with that belt on your bare ass for the first offense and heaven help you if you make him have to get onto you a second time. He can be a mean momma and you don't want him to come to me and tell me he can't keep you in line. I will not only whip your ass until you can't sit down, but I'll whip his for being a wimp." I had the guys on my wave length with me and they were happy.
    "Seriously fellows, all of our lives depend on these drivers. Play nice, let's have a fun trip home and let's get on the road." Finally at eight thirty diesel exhaust wafted across the tarmac as we rolled out to the road and headed home, via Georgia. "Can't get Georgia off my mind" thanks Ray.

    I was really proud of the drivers. Cas was driving Traveler©. I sat back and enjoyed the scenery. Yeah, right. Tuesday morning, New York. Well it wasn't as bad as the L.A. freeways. We kept moving, and at a decent speed, but I so see the half fear, half frustration on Cas's face. My pet peeve is some tiny little car that just has to get in front of this giant monolith on wheels and then slam on their brakes. I have so often wanted to roll over the top of them like the speed bump I consider them. Oh well, so much for dreams. Cas was getting a good dose of that type of driver and I felt sorry for him, but I would bite my tongue before I would say anything. If he couldn't handle it he would tell me. I know my Cassy though, he would walk through fire and ice before that boy would complain. He is tough. Jerry was riding shotgun for Tim. He, Ken, Andy, and I had voice activated headsets on. I could hear the others as they shared some of the same problems. They tried to stay up close behind us, but drivers in a hurry to die, or get to work, continuously slid in between us, making it frightening for our young drivers. I was so proud of each of them. They done good.
    A little over twelve hundred miles and four novice drivers slowed our travel time considerably. I will drive one hundred and five miles and hour. I didn't expect them too. I had not planned on all of us being together and had counted on making up time as I drove during the night. Again that was not possible. My swampers were feeding me information that the boys were doing well and wanted to drive all night. I checked with them constantly and learned that when they weren't driving they were in bed, alone and sleeping, I told them that we would go for as long as there were no signs of fatigue. We still had one youngster driving Jim's Winnebago. I would not push him. We held the seventy mile per hour speed limit all of the way, still it took us twenty two hours to make the trip.
    The gasoline burning Pace Arrow and the Mini-Winnie didn't have the fuel capacity nor the fuel efficiency that Traveler© had. And talk about poor timing. I had been so out of touch with reality for the last few weeks that I was shocked, as most Americans were, over the gasoline and diesel prices. The only silver lining was the profits from the commodities trading. Cas picked up on that and got a little excited when he realized that he bought unleaded regular gasoline in June for November delivery. He bought in at $1.39, before taxes. It was selling for upwards of three dollars, including taxes which he doesn't get a part of, making it around $2.59. A nice profit. All of my boys stood to make a nice bit of change. Yes, even Mike. You know that I wouldn't leave my own boy hanging and I had invested in the name of the other scallywags too. If I can get the civil suits into court the way I have them planned out these boys will have more than enough to reimburse me any front capital I might lay out for them. As if I need it, but I do have to keep my books straight for the one agency that Andy doesn't have any pull with, the IRS.
    After six pit stops to re-fuel the two gasoline burners we pulled in to our Mobile truck stop, just after eight AM, with thirty eight hungry men onboard. I saw Ahab outside taking in his morning fix of nicotine. I hopped out of Traveler© as I let Cory go ahead and park him alongside the other three vehicles. Ahab the Arab is Texas born. "Reared up in Dallas," he'd told me more than a year ago when I was through here. I told him that we had thirty eight bottomless pits that wanted to bankrupt him this morning. He told me that he had his eye on a chicken ranch, bring 'em on so that he could retire. As the boys passed by I wondered what kind of chicken he wanted for his ranch; his eyes were on each boy and his lips were very dry because he had to keep licking them.
    As per usual the man did know how to lay out a spread of food. You'd think that he was feeding a ranch full of Texas cowboys from the abundance of his serving line. As the boys moved through Ahab and his cook were refilling the line with fresh food. I didn't have much of an appetite, but I had four boys to consider so I let them get their fill as I went out to the main desk and rented a car for two hours. Yes, you can do that in truck stops. They were holding the title to the nearly two million dollar Traveler© while I was gone with their fifteen thousand dollar car.
    The boys had called their families and we were all to meet at Les's house at nine o'clock.

    I can't believe how a parent can confront their own flesh and blood with such a venomous assault. We pulled up to the Tinsley house. There were three other cars there. One of them looked like an unmarked police car. Les walked up to the front door. He looked back over his shoulder with a tear in his eye and opened the door. I was just on the porch as I heard the shrill banshee like squeal of a mother shrew. "You faggot ass sonofabich, how dare you enter my house." Too late to run, I stepped on inside. Five women sat staring at me.
    "Are you the fag bastard that spirited my son away from me?"
    "Mother, shut up. Nobody spirited anybody," Jerry told the one, I suppose, was his mother, if calling her mother could be any clue.
    "No you shut up, faggot. You and your boyfriend there got my husband killed with your sinful nature and now you take these two little boys away to have sex with them and concoct some outrageous story about child slavery rings and Paris and all of that."
    "It was not Paris. It was France, the French Riviera, to be exact. That is where we went on vacation. Did you ever take a vacation, outside or your mind? One where you could let your body go to." Jerry was trying hard not to raise his voice. I put my hand on his shoulder. He smiled at me and moved to Tim. What would this woman do when she finds out that these two boys are legally married?
    "Keep your hands off of my son. You are already in enough trouble. This police detective has come to arrest you for molesting my son and that other faggot there." She nodded her chin toward Tim. "And you have these two little fags with you also. You'll be the next one shanked over at the state prison. I'll see to that."
    The lady in the black cotton skirt and white blouse stood up. She had her badge pinned to her waistband and a gun clipped to the side of her skirt. "I'm detective Jamieson. I have been called out here to record the charges that these four ladies are making. Do you want to talk here or should we go downtown?" I searched my sleeves for an Ace. I found my badge case. I pulled it out and flipped it open then handed it to the detective. Her expression changed. She passed me my badge, making sure that everybody in the house saw it and she sat back down.
    "I was surprised to know that the state department was involved in this case, but your agency… How is it that you're here?"
    "I am the uncle of his Royal Highness Cullen Muneday. I had taken him and members of my household to see the coronation of his great aunt. We took a few days to play in the sun and sand of the Mediterranean Ocean. While at the beach my son, Cory, found young Les. Les told him that he was an American citizen and that he had been kidnaped. He told us that his friend, Lance was somewhere on the beach too." I went for the shock value to the four Witches of Mobile, "they told us a story that made us sick. Poor Tim, here, threw up when he heard it. Several of my family members were sick.
    "Les and Lance told us how they were up inside a recessed doorway to get out of a sudden rainstorm two days after Hurricane Frances blew through this area fifteen months ago. They were grabbed by two men and had bags put over their heads. They were kept naked and constantly raped. They arrived in a resort town known for its, shall we say catering to men of special persuasions. They were beaten and starved unless they had sex with men who paid big money to sleep with young and cute boys.
    "Only two days before we found these lads I had arrested the man and his cronies that were running this boy sex ring. He tried to kidnap my son while he led a boy he kidnaped in New York around with him, naked and on a dog leash. He carries a riding crop which he uses to whip a boy who does not perform properly. Yes, your sons were led around on a leash, like an animal, until they learned to obey those four men. Your sons have suffered the gravest of indignities ever perpetrated on a boy. They have the scars and bruises on their rear ends to prove how vile those men are."
    "Well, these two deserve every minute of what they got. But I blame it all on those two," Mrs. Mark pointed at Tim and Jerry. "Tim I am so sorry that your father didn't kill you. If anyone ever needed killing it is you and that freak there with you."
    "That's my son, the freak. His dad tried all that bastard's life to show him the love of Jesus and he chooses to run away with a queer to live who knows where. Officer, you were brought here to put these people in prison. Do your job." Jerry's mother is still a garbage mouth.
    "Yeah, and take those two little fruits with you too. They need to get some mental help." Lance's mother came on line.
    "Ladies there is nothing that Detective Jamieson can do for you. Tim and Jerry have been legal adults since last January. Lance is sixteen years old today, if anyone cares to think about her son for change. Les will be sixteen Friday. As I understand what you two are excreting from your skanky holes, you don't care to have your son's return home. I will be before a Judge within an hour or so to get them declared emancipated teenagers. But a word to you. Your sons are not gay. They had something forced on them that I truly wish that you could experience for yourselves.
    "Mrs. Thompson, I sincerely feel sorry for you. You lived with a self proclaimed hypocrite who didn't know one bit of his Bible. If the man had ever known Christ Jesus as his personal friend and Savior he would not have treated you or Jerry the way he did. I pray that God will have mercy on his soul."
    "Blasphemy, Christ is not a friend. He is The Judge who will judge people like you who…you make me sick." She turned in her seat to look away from me.
    "Mrs. Mark, I am truly sorry that your husband is dead. Tim has a very good case prepared to put the man away for over one hundred years for his continued sexual molestation. Up until this very moment I have asked Tim to learn to forgive you for sitting by and allowing him to be molested in front of your very eyes, but we have enough evidence and several witnesses that would like to see you in prison until you are too old to hurt anyone again. With the kind of mouth that you have demonstrated to me today you are going to serve a much longer sentence than I had hoped for."
    "Mr. Dickson, like I said, I didn't know that the State Department was involved with this case. I had them fax over their notes about these boys and you are right. What these boys went through is tragic. Almost as tragic as what all four of them are going through right now. I take it that you are going to take custody of these two boys for the time being?"
    "Yes, mam," I told the detective. "While you are here I would like to make a request, if I may." She nodded at me. "If I am to take the boys they would like to have some of their personal belongings. Could I ask you to please stand by while they retrieve those things of theirs that they consider important to them?"
    "Absolutely. Lester, you may go get what you want then I will go with Lance to get his belongings." A little bit happier Les grabbed Lance's hand and told Tim and Jerry to help too as he led the boys off to his bedroom.
    "I have heard of your agency, in rumors…"
    "Please don't say the name. We don't exist, you know?"
    "Hmmmm, just like NSA didn't exist for how long? Anyway I know the power that you people have. What is your interest in these boys and what will you do with them?"
    "Well my interest is as I told you. My son and my nephew, the Crown Prince found these little guys, hungry and alone on a beach in a foreign country where they did not know the language. They could not even ask for help. Part of that was my fault because I had the man they were waiting for in jail for two days while they were over twenty miles from where they had been sleeping waiting for him to come back and pick them up so they could get something to eat. They didn't even know how to get back there, wherever there was.
    "What I do with them is up to them. I am on the board of directors of a large private school that shelters cast off boys. I have a home in Oklahoma and one in Arizona where I shelter throwaway boys and see to it that they go to school and maintain a decent grade average. At present I have almost two hundred and fifty boys receiving aid from groups that I am associated with. All of these boys are healthy, well fed, and mentally well adjusted to his individual position. All of the boys are doing excellent in their scholastic studies and at the present time I have five boys attending a University. We have one more boy that came to us asking that I pay his tuition as well."
    "Do you have that kind of money?"
    "No amount of money spent on raising and educating a boy can be measured. I will get the funds needed to provide. If these two youngsters choose to go with me when I leave town today, I will provide their needs, with pleasure."
    In practically no time we had everything the boys held near and dear. Even Les's stash of gay porn. I looked at the boy's blush as he tried to hide his magazines. Jerry blushed as he told me that those were the books he and Tim had used then passed down. Oops, they didn't strike me as gay, just curious and molested.

    Once back at the truck stop I pulled the car around to the rental lot then thought better of it. I had to find a judge. The boys piled out of the car as Jerry slid over to sit next to me. I closed my car door and turned under the steering wheel so that I could look at him.

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