Date: Fri, 24 Dec 2004 09:42:43 -0500 From: Herb Cat Subject: Wayne the Wrestler Chapter 1 Disclaimer: This story is fiction. I made it all up. The people in the story aren't real people. I made them up. The things that happen in the story didn't really happen. I made them up too. I am personally repulsed by the idea that grown men would manipulate the emotions of vulnerable young children for their own sexual gratification. However, as a writer I challenge myself to "get inside the mind" of my characters. In Wayne the Wrestler, I have attempted to present the blossoming relationship between a 30-year-old man and a 12-year-old boy. In doing so, I have tried to present both characters sympathetically. However, this story should not be construed as an endorsement either of pedophilia or of its insidious methods. I would appreciate any responses, positive or negative. Wayne the Wrestler - Chapter 1 When 12-year old Wayne grabbed his skateboard and ran out the door, he had no idea that his entire life was going to change that hot August afternoon. He knew his friends were either at summer camp or on family trips, so he spent about an hour skating around the neighborhood, all by himself. His mom couldn't afford to send him to camp or go on a trip somewhere. Wayne was still small for for his age, about the shortest kid in sixth grade last year; even some of the fourth graders were bigger than he was. His little seventyfive pound body showed no signs of pubescence yet, but he was starting to get wet dreams and he thought he was sweating a lot more than he used to, especially this day. As he passed one big two story house, he heard someone calling from the front walk. "Hey, kid, isn't it kind of hot today for that?" Wayne stopped, smiled, and replied, "Yeah, I know. I'm getting all sweaty, Mister." "You want a soda to cool off? I got some in the fridge." "Gee, thanks!" And Wayne followed the man inside. They went into the kitchen and the man gave him the soda he promised. It tasted real cold. Wayne held the can against his forehead. Even inside the man's house, it seemed just as hot as outside. The man was dressed in khaki shorts and a golf shirt. No shoes. Wayne had on his jeans, sneakers, and a white T that was soaked in perspiration. Wayne quickly drank the whole can. "I bet you could use another." "Shit, yes, Mister. Oh, excuse my mouth." "Don't worry about it. In my house you can say `shit' all you want." "Really? At home, Momma says she doesn't want to hear me say `shit'. Says she'll wash my mouth out with soap. But she uses it all the time when she talks to her boy friend. That and other words." "Like what?" "You know, like `dick' and `piss.' Stuff like that." "Well, I don't care what words you use here, kid. You can even say `Fuck!'" "Really?" "Fuck, yes!" and they both started laughing. "I like you, kid. I'm Mr. Raven. What's your name?" "Wayne." "Well, put it there, Wayne." Mr. Raven held out his huge strong hand which was soon engulfing Wayne's little hand. Wayne guessed that Mr. Raven was about as old as his cousin, almost thirty. When Wayne noticed a Nintendo on the kitchen counter, the man asked if he knew how to play. "Fuck, yes," Wayne said, relishing his new lexical freedom. He grabbed it and started whipping his thumbs around on the controls. For the next half hour or so, they passed it back and forth between them, but Mr. Raven could never match Wayne's score. "You sure are good at that. You play other games, too?" "Well, I like to play baseball with my friends, and we play card games, and sometimes we wrestle. But I don't win when we wrestle. I'm too little." "Hey, kid. You don't need to be big to win in wrestling. You just have to be quick, and smart." "Fuck, really?" "Yep. I was on the wrestling team in college and I got beat lots of times by a short guy who was quicker and smarter than me." "Wow. Well, I'm pretty quick. And I'm real smart too." "Really?" "Fuck, yes. All my teachers say I learn real quick." "Did you ever take wrestling lessons?" "No, Momma doesn't like me to wrestle. She thinks I'll become a bully." "I could teach you some wrestling moves if you want. Would you like that?" "Fuck, yes." "I know some other games I could teach you too. Would you like that?" "Fuck, yes." Just then Mr. Raven looked out the window and shouted, "Oh, Shit." Wayne jumped up to look. It was a big greyhound making a load on the lawn. "That's the neighbor's dog. He's always jumping the fence to do his crap over here. C'mon, help me catch him." Wayne looked at Mr. Raven. "Don't worry, he's friendly, just playful." Mr. Raven grabbed a rope and Wayne followed him out into the yard. They chased the dog around and around, trying to get it cornered between the fence and the shed. They'd almost have him trapped and he'd break free again. Both Wayne and Mr. Raven were laughing. But suddenly Wayne slipped and fell right on the load, getting dog do on his shirt, jeans and bare arms. "Oh, shit," they both said at once. "Forget the fuckin dog. C'mon, Tim. i'll get you cleaned up." Mr. Raven turned on the hose and washed the worst of it off, then he led Wayne back inside to the laundry room and told him to take off all his clothes. Mr. Raven began filling the machine. "And I think you could use a shower. You don't want to be smelling like dogshit when you get home." Wayne grinned. He took off his tighty whities and completely naked followed Mr. Raven upstairs, through his bedroom to the bathroom. He got in the shower and Mr. Raven stood right there talking to him, as he bathed. He told him after his shower, he was going to teach him the Slave Game. That sounded like fun. Wayne turned off the water and Mr. Raven handed him a huge towel. "You get dried off. I'm going to make sure that dog went home and take care of your clothes. Just wait here `til I get back." Wayne got all dried and stood there waiting like he was told. But when Mr. Raven returned he didn't bring Wayne's clothes. "OK, here are the rules for the Slave Game. You are the slave boy. You do whatever I tell you and if you do it right, every five minutes you can get one item of clothing back." Wayne dropped his jaw, "Really?" "Yeah, those are the rules. It'll be fun. You ready?" "Fuck, yes." "OK, I'm checking my watch. Here we go." "Scratch your ass, slave boy." Wayne giggled and scratched his naked little white ass. "Jump up and down on my bed, slave boy." Wayne liked that. His momma didn't let him jump on the bed at home. "Go get me a beer from the fridge, slave boy." Wayne grinned and ran bare assed through the house and got the beer. "Now bend over, and without bending your knees, grab your ankles. Can you do that, slave boy?" "Fuck, yes." Mr. Raven walked all around him as little Wayne held this position. "OK, come with me back to the kitchen, slave boy." "Now get on the table there and stand on one foot, slave boy." Wayne got up on the table and held one leg up. "OK, that's the first five minutes, slave boy. So now I reward you with your first item of clothing." Mr. Raven stepped into the laundry room and brought Wayne one sock, still warm from the dryer. Wayne giggled. "I thought you were gonna give me my undies." He put on the sock and waited. This was the best game he'd ever played, the most fun he'd ever had. For the next five minutes, Mr. Raven had him run up the stairs, slide down the bannister, move like a monkey, then like an elephant, do somersaults and cartwheels in the living room, and finally Mr. Raven laid on the floor and had Wayne jump back and forth over his face. As a reward, Wayne got one sneaker. "Now run around the back yard and come back here, slave boy." "You mean naked?" "You aren't naked. You have one shoe and sock on, slave boy." Wayne giggled and ran outside, one leg longer than the other. He kept way clear of the pile of dogshit and came back inside panting. "You're tired, slave boy. Sit here on Mr. Raven's lap." Wayne sat and let Mr. Raven put his big warm arm around him and pet his head. Wayne's father had left him when he was still a baby. During the school year, his mom worked all day in the accounting department of a school district about half an hour from home so Wayne was a latchkey kid. Wayne felt good sitting with this man who took the time to hold him and hug him. They just sat for the rest of the five minutes and Wayne got a second sock. "Now, lay on the couch, slave boy." Wayne laid down. Mr. Raven positioned his head on a cushion, his arms at his side, and his legs slightly apart. "Are you comfortable, slave boy?" Wayne nodded. "Good, now close your eyes and do not move for five whole minutes, slave boy." This wasn't easy. 12-year old Wayne found it hard to ever stay still. He didn't know what Mr. Raven was doing. He wanted to peek, but more than that he wanted to play the game, so he forced himself to lay still with his eyes clenched shut. When the time was up, he opened his eyes and was rewarded with his other sneaker. While he was putting it on, Mr. Raven was taking off his shirt. "Now I'm hot, slave boy." Mr. Raven dropped his khakis and he had no underpants on. Now Mr. Raven was the naked one. "You're gonna have to wait five minutes to get your clothes back," said Wayne. They both laughed. Wayne watched Mr. Raven's hairy abs jiggle when he laughed. His eyes followed the central trail of hair from his navel down to his pubes where Wayne saw a huge dense dark patch of fur and a long thick cock. "Wow, you sure are big." Mr. Raven smiled. "Thank you, slave boy." He put on some music and they danced for five minutes. A silly dance with lots of leg spreading and arm waving. Then Wayne got his shirt, but Mr. Raven stayed naked. "Remember the first order I gave you, slave boy?" Wayne thought. The game was so much fun, he had to really think hard back to the beginning. "Oh, yeah," he giggled, "you ordered me to scratch my ass." "OK. now I order you to scratch my ass, slave boy." Mr. Raven turned his ass toward Wayne and used his big muscular hands to pull his buttocks apart. Wayne reached in and began scratching with his tiny little fingernails. Wayne pretty much kept his hand in one position and Mr. Raven moved around so different things got scratched, first one cheek, then the other, then the inside of each thigh. Then Mr. Raven spread his legs and Wayne was scratching behind his balls. After five minutes, Mr. Raven gave him his jeans, but since he didn't have his undies yet he couldn't put them on anyway. "You keep looking at my dick, slave boy." "Sorry, I just never saw one so big. How big is it?" Mr. Raven got a ruler. "Measure it, slave boy." Wayne held the ruler next to the furry patch and gently pulled the circumcised dickhead up to the ruler and announced, "Wow, four inches." "You can make it bigger, slave boy." "I can, really? Fuck, how?" "Take your hands and wrap them around it, slave boy. . . Yeah, like that. Now slide them up and down real slow. Very good, slave boy. You learn things quick." "That's what my teachers say. Am I doing it right?" "That's perfect. Look, see, it's getting bigger." Wayne stared. Sure enough, Mr. Raven's dick was growing. And it felt harder in his little hands. "Now, hold it a little tighter and move it a little faster." Wayne obeyed. He really liked this game now. Eventually, Mr. Raven put his hand on Wayne's head and whispered, "OK, slave boy, get the ruler again." Wayne measured 7 and one fourth inches. "Wow, Fuck, that is huge." "Thanks to you, slave boy." Mr. Raven smiled and handed Wayne his undies. Wayne got dressed and then said, "This is the most fun I've ever had, Mr. Raven. Can we do it again?" "Sure, Wayne, I liked the game too. Why don't you come over here next Wednesday. I need time to think of all kinds of new orders." "Yeah, that'll be great! I can't wait." "Oh, and Wayne, there's one more rule to this game." "What's that?" "You can't tell anybody else about it, OK?" "Fuck, yes. I'm real good at keeping secrets. Goodbye, Mr. Raven. See you next Wednesday." In chapter 2, Wayne returns and plays the same games again but also learns new things. He strips for Raven and later witnesses an ejaculation.