Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 17:44:39 -0800 (PST)
From: Bart Hanks <bart384@yahoo.com>
Subject: Getting Eric - Part 13

           Chapter Thirteen  -  Stag Party

(Twenty year old Eric Tucker is nearing the end of his probationary period
for a supervisory position at the Bagfull Grocery chain.  He has been
conned or bullied into agreeing to perform at a stag dinner, along with his
friend eighteen year old Yancy Davis.)

Yancy met me in front of his house at 7:30.  I could tell he was scared and
I was none too relaxed myself.  He settled in beside me and I tried to make
conversation so he wouldn't just sit there being scared.

"Any more word from Patrick?

"I called him last night and he said he didn't know if he could come."

"You mean he hadn't decided?"

"I'm not sure.  See what it means is that he had lost a job he had and had
put in an application at another place and he was waiting to hear from
them.  He didn't want to be away if they called."

"Did he sound like he was anxious to come?"

Yancy suddenly laughed happily.  "Oh yeah.  He got that sexy voice he used
to use on me when he wanted me to come over and 'relieve' him."

I began to relax because I could tell he was relaxing.  "So he'd use that
voice so you would know what he wanted."

More laughter from Yancy.  "Right.  I'd play my old game of 'What do you
want me to come over right now for?  Can't we wait until later?' and he
would start in sounding husky.  We'd talk for about twenty minutes and when
I went over he'd be dripping before he could even pull it out of his
pants."

"Didn't you say sometimes even after he stripped, you'd delay giving him
what he wanted?"

Yancy giggled like a little kid.  "Right.  He'd have stripped and be
standing there in his bedroom buck naked and that thing of his really wet,
and I'd tell him he had to do stuff first."

"Stuff?"

He got very enthusiastic.  "His room was on the second floor and faced the
side yard, but from it you could see all the way to the corner.  So I'd
tell him he had to stand there in the window for say two minutes, and he'd
try to get out of it, and I'd lie on his bed and tell him I wasn't moving
until he did it.  Then sometimes after that I'd make him turn around so it
was his butt looking out the window."

"Those must have been good times."

"They were.  That's why I wanted him to come visit.  And if he stays with
you, the three of us could be together."

I felt like I needed to make sure we all knew the rules.

"Yancy, you realize we're not 14 years old.  We can't just have
spend-the-night parties and do stuff.  You have a job and I do too, and
Patrick isn't moving here."

"I know" he said.  Then he got silent.  I didn't know if he was suddenly
sad, or just reliving old memories.

We got over to the restaurant with plenty of time.  We parked around at the
back like we were told to do, and sat there together in my car.  I reached
over and wrapped my arm around his shoulder, pulling him close.

"It's won't be bad" I said.

He nodded.

What was I doing telling him it wouldn't be bad?  I had no idea what lay in
store.  Then taking a deep breath, I used my cell to call Paul.  He picked
up right away.

"We're out back" I said.

"Ok.  Go to the big receiving platform there and I'll come out back in a
minute and get you.  We'll go through the kitchen to the basement."

Yancy and I got out.  Even from the receiving platform it was obvious this
was a busy Friday night at the place.  True to his word, Paul was there
just moments after we arrived.  He was casually dressed in a wildly
flowered totally garish shirt and dark slacks. He was smoking a freshly lit
cigar.  We followed him down a corridor, and then down steps.  We paused at
the basement door.

"There's no dressing room, so it would be best if you undressed here before
we went in."  Turning to Yancy he asked, "What are you wearing under
there?"

Yancy looked intimidated.  "Briefs.  Is that ok?"

"Let me see."

"Here?"

"Yes."

Yancy pulled his jeans down.  He was wearing plain white Fruit of the Loom
briefs, the ones with the pouch slit for peeing.  Nothing fancy about that.

Paul shook his head as he looked at them.  "You're certainly all wool and a
yard wide, aren't you boy?"

Yancy obviously didn't know what Paul meant.  I had heard the expression
before, and knew that he had expected something more exotic in underwear,
something silky or colorful or bikini style.  That definitely wouldn't be
Yancy.

He didn't answer Paul, he just looked down at his briefs.  "I thought they
were what everybody wore.  That or boxers like Eric used to."

Paul grinned.  "That's the operative word for Eric, isn't it?  'Used to.'
But not any more."

Yancy started to ask "Huh?" but Paul hurried us on.

"When I open the door, hurry out on the stage.  Play around with each other
a little, and then begin to bump and grind as the music plays.  Do some
butt bumping and also use your hands on each other's butts."

Then pointing down beside the door, he said "Leave your clothes here
including your shoes and socks.  Go in just in your underwear.  Eric,
they're going to love you in that jock.  Is it a tartan color?  Are you
Scottish?"

Paul seemed to be enjoying his power.  More than that Paul seemed to be
vibrantly alive, like this was what he lived for.  No longer was he the
drab accountant at work, the married man with kids who hurried home from
our softball games because his family was waiting.  This was Paul totally
free.

I needed to ask him one question.  "Paul, I already lost my clothes last
Fridays night.  How do I know these'll be here when we finish tonight?"

He smiled, slowly exhaling smoke.  "You don't.  That's part of the
excitement."

"Paul!"  He might be joking with me, but I couldn't take the chance.

"Just kidding.  No they'll be here."  Then gesturing toward the closed
door, he explained, "The group has finished a big meal with lots of drinks,
so don't worry if they seem noisy."  He kept his hand on the door.  "The
stage will be lit with a spotlight and side lights, but the room will be
dark.  That's to ensure the privacy of our members."

He rested his hand on my butt.  That was getting to be an everyday
occurrence now.  But I figured he was reassuring me, and that made me feel
good.  Then his hand moved a little inward and I sensed something turning
me on.

"Do we need to get hard now?" I asked.  His hand was still back there on my
butt, edging toward my crack.  I thought if I acted like we were all
business, he'd quit fooling around.

"No.  They'll want to see how you look naturally.  That's when you bump and
grind.  Don't get it hard too soon.  Then later I'll give the word to peel
off your stuff.  Do it sort of slow, but not like you're teasing them.
Look at each other like you're both scared at what you're about to do.
They'll eat that up.  Then once your jock and briefs are off, bounce around
so they can see your dicks flopping.  That always drives this bunch wild."

His fingers on my butt moved, and I stepped away because they would be in
my trough back there in a second.  He winked and exhaled smoke again.  He
seemed almost to be sucking on the cigar, relishing it like a treasure.  He
inhaled smoke like he was sucking a dick.

Then he handed me a tiny hearing aid.  "Put this in your ear.  You won't be
able to talk to me, but I can give you instructions without anyone knowing
it.  Mainly just be sure to do exactly what I say."

We were still standing outside the door, the rest of our clothes in a pile
at our feet.  "Ok, be ready when I open the door, then run up to the stage.
It'll be on your left.  When I close the door behind me, it'll
automatically lock.  That way you don't have to worry about any stranger
walking in on you during your performance."

I thought to myself that it also meant I couldn't get back out to my
clothes if he didn't open it for me.  I guess whatever was going to happen
would happen.  It was like life - there was no escape.

Paul took a deep breath.  "All right, here we go."

That room must have been soundproof, because when he opened the door there
was plenty of noise, so much so that I stepped back for a second.  The
stage was brightly lit, and we ran toward it while Paul's voice suddenly
boomed over the intercom, "Please welcome our special guests, the dynamic
duo, known to us only as One..." and he pointed at me, "and Two."

There was applause and a roar of noise and shouts.  From the stage the
lights blinded me so I couldn't see the audience very well, but it seemed
to be maybe two dozen people seated at several long tables.  I found out
later that they were wearing masks, which accounted for what looked like
odd shaped heads at first.

Some music started, probably from a boom box, and he said "Let the show
begin."

In my ear he said "You two dance a little before you start to take off your
briefs.  Go for it big time.  That's what they're here for."

I turned to Yancy and gave him the message.  He looked at me and said
plaintively, "I don't know how to dance."

That's when I realized that when fate wants to punish you, he puts you next
to a total innocent, someone who wouldn't have sense enough to come in out
of the rain.  "Well, make it up.  Just shake a little and keep time to the
music if you can."

We did pretty good.  The applause started and kept up, and some cheers.  I
bumped my butt against his as I turned, and the crowd went wild.  I decided
this wasn't so bad after all.

Yancy's style improved.  Maybe he was getting over his nervousness.  He
swatted my butt as he turned around me, and then began jiggling.  That was
when Paul said in my ear, "Play squirrel."

"Huh?"  I realized he couldn't hear me.  Yancy glanced over to see what I
was saying.  He kept twisting and shaking his butt.  He was pretty good at
it, but then he had the kind of butt that people seem to like, all white
and smooth and round and dimpled.  I still couldn't get the hang of the
dancing but I did ok bumping his butt.

"Play squirrel. You know gather nuts."

That didn't make any sense.  I must have looked out with a baffled
expression.  That's when he said "Grab his nuts. That's what squirrels do.
You two go for each other's nuts."

Well since our balls and dicks were still covered down there, I wasn't sure
what to do except make a grab for Yancy's package.  It took him by surprise
and he let out a yelp.  The crowd roared.  He caught on that he should do
more of that, so when I grabbed again he danced away on one foot, squealing
and then quickly turning around so that he slapped my butt.  As I turned to
him he grabbed me between the legs.  He was really quick.

He grinned and made noises like he loved it.  Again the crowd applauded.
Some guy called out "Get him, little guy!"  Another voice shouted "Go for
it, little buddy!"  Yancy heard it and it obviously made him real happy.  I
guess he had been unsure and embarrassed, but now he realized this was
easier than he thought.  And not only that, it proved to him that he was
good at something...even if it was only smacking my butt and grabbing my
balls.

The next time I made a grab for him and he danced away, he turned back
suddenly and not only grabbed me between the legs but held on.  What was
worse was he began pulling on the pouch of my jock.  The rubbing began to
have an effect on me, but when I tried to twist away, he held the pouch
which began to stretch.

He finally released me with a snap.  That brought more cheers.
Unfortunately that made him get bolder, and he tried to get behind me and
pull on the waistband of my jock and let it go.  It popped me and I whirled
around but somehow tripped over my own feet.  It stung.

"Let him get on you, pin you down" Paul said in my ear.

Yancy didn't need instructions.  Instinctively he dropped down straddling
my chest.  while I flailed my arms (since I didn't want to throw him off).
He pretended to pull my hair.  I whispered "Grab my jock".  I felt his
hands reaching down there while he kept looking mischievously into my eyes.

When he grabbed down there, I bucked wildly, giving the audience a show.
Then whatever he was doing with his hands made them cheer.  I guess he was
pretending to get ready to grab me, but when he did, I realized he was
trying to pull my jock off.

"I'll roll over so you can get it" I said quietly to him, above the noise
of the crowd.  I knew I was getting reasonably hard now, and I could see
his boner pushing against his little white briefs.  I rolled onto my side
and he twisted facing down my body and began pulling the jock down.  I
pulled my legs up like I was going to jump and throw him off, and that gave
him the chance to get it off.  Then he jumped off me and waved it to the
crowd.  He had it on his index finger twirling it.  He got thunderous
applause.

In my ear Paul said, "He's a real performer.  I never would have thought he
was that talented."

"You don't know the half" I said, but of course I had no mike and my words
were lost in the roar of the crowd.

Yancy was still dancing around me twirling my strap, shaking his butt in
every direction.  I got up and made a grab for it, but he was surprisingly
quick.  There wasn't a lot of room on the stage, so we had to be careful
not to fall off or knock each other down.  The crowd started shouting for
him to throw my strap out to them.  But for the moment he preferred to keep
twirling them on his finger, just out of reach.

I snatched at his briefs, snagged them, and pulled them off.  What I had
guessed from the bulge in his briefs was right, his dick was already hard.
He shook his little butt and the crowd roared once more.  I started
twirling his briefs and danced around him.  But when I turned to the crowd,
he used my jock like it was a slingshot, and popped the hell out of my
butt.  I jumped and the crowd noisily gave their approval.  Then he did
something tricky.  He dangled my jock at me and like a fool I reached up to
grab it.  That was when he grabbed my dick and pulled.

I let out a yelp and there was a great noise from the crowd.  He grinned
out at them evilly.  I could tell he was the favorite.  I knew crowds
always loved for the little guy to be able to get the big guy.  He pointed
at my dick and laughed, then grabbed it again.

He was still pulling my dick, so I started slapping his briefs against his
face.  When that didn't work, I grabbed his hard dick and he let out a
squawk.

At that point, Paul's voice came over the intercom.  "Let's give them a
hand and then see if they can jack each other off.  But first a little bump
and grind music!"

The sound system started a piece that I think was called "The Stripper" and
we let go of each other, tossing our underwear away, and began rubbing
butts and backs again.  But this time our erections were at full mast and
the crowd got good views.  I could see flash cameras going off in the
audience.

Then something rolled on the stage.  It was a plastic jar of lube.  That
was thoughtful, it would make jacking each other easier.  But I hadn't
counted on what came next.  It was a cucumber!

We still danced around both things until Paul told me to pick them up.  The
audience went wild when they saw me holding the cucumber.  It wasn't as big
as the ones in Robby's department, but it was long and hard.  But as I
looked at it, I saw to my dismay it had my name on it...in my own
handwriting.

I remembered Gordon and Gwen and how she had returned a cucumber at the
start of the week.  When I told her to keep it, she asked me to sign it.
That seemed a lifetime ago.  But since no women were supposed to be present
in the audience, could that mean Gordon was here?

I waved the cucumber at the crowd and they laughed.  Then Yancy grabbed it
out of my hand and waved it and they went wild.  "YES!  DO HIM!" while
other remarks and suggestions were being shouted.  They wanted Yancy to use
it on me!

Yancy understood that too and began to get a smirk on his face as he
grinned uncontrollably.  That griped me.  It was like having a little
monkey dancing around me.  It sort of made me mad.  But since he was
definitely the crowd favorite, I did my best to play along.

I grabbed the jar of lube and slathered my fingers in it.  Then I grabbed
for the cucumber and greased it up until it shone in the stage lights.  The
crowd kept getting noisier and more excited.  Yancy greased his hands with
the lube while I finished the cucumber.  I put it between my legs and
started jacking it.  It was a funny feeling doing that, like it was my own
dick but that it had gone numb.  There was more cheering.  Then he grabbed
the thing from me while I was lubing my butt hole.  I still kept lubing
while people encouraged me to use more fingers.  I wanted my hole to open
but I didn't want to stretch it.  I knew the cucumber was going to be a
problem.  He waved it and came at me like it was a baseball bat.  I caught
on right away that I was to stumble so he could get on me.

That's how we did it, to great cheers.  I went down on my stomach as he was
swinging at me, and then he pounced on my back.  I could see with my face
turned sideways that he was waving it in the air and making poking gestures
at my butt.

Finally he began to try to force it in.  He struggled and at first I would
have sworn it was just too big around.  I put on a good show, pounding my
fists on the floor and kicking my legs in mock desperation.  But finally I
could tell he was going to get it in there.  I didn't really want this, but
after tonight I'd be free of the store and have my promotion and could
leave, so I didn't care.

He didn't push it far, just opened the portal so to speak.  Then he jumped
up, pulling it out and waving it in the air.  I jumped up as well, grabbed
him and pulled him across my knees.  The cucumber fell to one side and
rolled off the stage. Taking a lubed finger and gesturing to the audience,
I inserted it in his butt.

Fortunately he was clean.  I withdrew the finger and showed them, holding
my hand high, and then went back to his hole adding a second finger.  They
cheered their appreciation.  I was glad; I wouldn't have wanted them to
think I was picking on Yancy.  I was about to add a third finger when Paul
said in my earpiece, "Now's the time to stand up and begin to jerk each
other off.  Try to think of what to do before you fire off, something to
make a good ending."

This meant my ordeal was almost over.  I told Yancy this was show time, and
he knew what I meant.  We both got up, stood side by side. and reached over
and started jerking each other.  His dick felt good.  I was getting so I
thought of it almost like an old friend.  The feel, the texture, the shape
of the head, even the little slit that always oozed such a clear drop, all
that was like the promised land to me.

Things quieted down as if they were waiting to see us explode.  Talking
quietly to Yancy, I told him I was going to drop down as if I was about to
blow him, but instead I would lift his arms so he could throw his legs over
my shoulders, and then I would stand up holding him with his dick in my
mouth and his body covering my face.

"When I get that far, wave to the crowd, make a victory sign or clasp your
hands in victory, ok?"

He caught on, and we went at it. The only bad moment was when I was trying
to lift him.  I hadn't counted on my leg muscles being tired from
everything I'd been through today, and I almost stumbled as I started to
stand.  But the crowed cheered - they really did.  I could feel his body
movement as I reached full height and I knew he was waving to the crowd.  I
had started sucking him and my own bone was rigid.  They must have seen
that as I turned, because wave after wave of applause and cheers of
encouragement echoed in the room.

Then Yancy said "I'm about to cum."

With a grand bow, I put him down, we got side by side, and doing each other
we shot almost instantly.  We took bows to thunderous applause.

"Don't slip on the white stuff" I said mischievously as we took a final
bow.

Paul suddenly announced over the speaker, "Now let's thank our guests.
They will pass among you so that you can show your appreciation, shake
their hands, or shake something.  You will notice small rubber bands at
each place, and if you should want to tip these excellent performers - who,
incidentally are being paid in addition to any tips from you - then you can
attach folding money to their equipment."

More noise followed that.  But what Paul had said left me stunned.  We
hadn't counted on this, on being right up next to these people in masks.  I
had thought we'd just do a show and leave.  Stepping off the stage I almost
fell.  The lights there at the edge were blinding.  I might have pitched
over but someone at the first table grabbed my arm to steady me.  Then he
grabbed something else.

"Great show, man," a whisky smelling voice said, "and great equipment.  I'd
love to get a hand on that sometime."  As I got my balance, I saw Yancy
going to a table on the other side.  I had wanted to keep an eye on him to
protect him, but apparently he didn't feel the need for protection

The guy who helped me was wearing one of those Zorro eye masks.  He was
still holding my dick.  I tried to pull away, but he said "I'm still
waiting for an answer."

"Huh?"  For a moment my brain had gone dead.

Then taking the rubber band at his place, he rolled a bill around my dick
and slipped the rubber band on it.

"I'll be in touch" he said.  That seemed dumb, how could he know where to
find me?

Some guests had on smaller eye masks, some had half their face hidden where
the mask came down onto their nose.  One or two had full face masks.  I
wondered if they had taken those off long enough to eat.

Men touched my ass, some grabbed my dick, and some tried to fondle my
balls.  The second guy to tip me pulled the rubber band off, wound his
money on top of the first guy's, and rolled the rubber band back up in
place.  My dick was long enough for the head to stick out the end.  He
touched it lightly at first.

"I'd like to meet you afterward."  He began stroking the head between his
fingers.  It made me shiver.  He took that as encouragement.

"So you like that, huh?  Kid I can make your every dream come true."

I shook my head and tried to move.  Then a hand from behind reached through
my legs and felt my balls.

"Don't hog the merchandise, Carl" the voice behind me said.

"What's it to you, Rupert?" the man facing me said.

"Well I'm trying to use my band to attach a tip to his balls, and you are
keeping him way too jumpy.  You always had the effect on people."

This caused Carl in front of me to make some ominous sounds, but at least
he let go.

"Just remember" he said in my ear, and then touched his tongue into it.  I
almost jumped out of my skin.  Then he explained, "There's lots more where
that came from" and licked me again.

But something else was happening at the same moment.  I have hairy balls
and now the guy behind me was getting his rubber band snarled in my hairs.
For the first time in my life, I regretted not shaving my balls.  At least
if anybody tried that on Yancy, he'd be ok.  He doesn't have enough hair
down there to be a problem.

"You're pulling my hairs out" I said, in a quietly urgent tone of voice.

"When you see the size on the bill I'm attaching down there, you won't mind
a few hairs being gone.  In fact if I had brought something to shave them
with, I'd pay even more for your balls' hairs."

Someone was playing with my nipples.  I knew I needed to circulate.  The
guy in back seemed to have gotten my tip placed on ok, and he gave my balls
a gentle massage before patting my butt and saying thanks for my show.

The guy at my nipples attached two clamps with a silver chain connecting
them.  It hurt for a minute but with everything else going on, I didn't
have time to react to it.

"This chain is sterling silver, so if you ever need money you can hock this
thing big time" he said.  "It and the clamps are worth more than any bill I
could attach to that dong of yours.  In fact if you want to get in touch
with me, I'm into nipples big time.  Let me do a little nipple enlargement
and you won't have to worry about holding a job for at least 10 years."

He gave the chain a little tug and I winced, but later realized it was kind
of sexy too.

The music was still playing and I still couldn't spot Yancy.  I wondered if
he was doing ok.

I was still moving as best I could until I came to a guy in a full mask who
reached out, held my dick without releasing it, and said "Would you believe
I saw one like this last Friday night?"

He was obviously drunk.  It was Gordon.

"Are you a member here?" I asked, figuring someone that young wouldn't have
much in common with these older guys, plus I had heard it cost a bundle to
join here.

He still held my dick, which was sore from the workout and was softening,
but the bills wrapped around it gave me some protection.  "It's my dad's
membership.  He's out of town so I sneaked his.  Besides my wife's out with
the girls."  Looking at my dick more closely, he said "I really like this
thing.  Know what I mean?"

He was about to pull the rubber band off in order to stroke it.

"Gordon, that's my money you're fooling with.  Leave me alone."

"You don't find one like this every day."

He parted his lips and leaned close, like he was going to start sucking me.
After all the work my dick had had, I didn't need that for sure.

I started to ask him how he could know you didn't find a dick like mine
every day.  But then reality returned and I realized I actually didn't want
to know the answer to that one.

"Gordon, if you want your damned cucumber back, you better go find it
double quick.  After all, I've jacked it and it's been up my butt.  I'd say
that makes it priceless in your book."

"Oh wow!  Hey that's right.  Great show, man, but I've got to go!"  He
dashed off.

"It's somewhere near the stage unless somebody else stole it!" I hollered
after him.  With the noise I didn't know if he heard, but I was so tired I
didn't care.

I turned away hoping I was finished since some of the crowd had already
stood up.  Most were visiting with each other before leaving.  Then a heavy
man in a full mask stopped me.

"Don't rush off.  I wanted to thank for tonight."

I recognized his voice.  It was Turkey.  "You're welcome, Woody, and thanks
for helping me with Kevin."

He kept a hand on my shoulder.  "Well more good things are going to come
your way.  Count on me.  But for now there's someone here who wants to give
you a big tip in a special way."

He turned aside and another guy in a full mask stood there.  The guy was
holding up a hundred dollar bill for me to see.

"I want to give you this in a way you'll always remember."  It was a brand
new bill, and he began rolling it, marking it smaller and smaller.  When it
was like a miniature pencil, he stuck out his tongue, got it wet, and then
sucked on a finger.

"Lean over."

I could guess what was coming.

"Let me grease the pathway first" he said, running his fingers along my
crack, getting closer and closer to my hole.  I instinctively flinched and
squeeze my butt.

"None of that" he said, and pushed my legs further apart.  Reluctantly I
waited until he withdrew his finger band inserted the bill.  It was new and
it was tough.  But he worked slowly and within a minute he had it in my
hole.

"Now I'm going to push it all the way.  I want you to have something from
me deep inside you."

Turkey leaned close, whispering, "And he means that too.  In more ways than
one."

He put his finger back up me again, pushing the thing in as far as he
could.  I could feel the finger pushed up to the knuckle, and the bill was
ahead of it.

"When you take a shit tomorrow morning, don't flush too soon.  Look below,
reach down, and get your reward."

With that he was off.

"That's a peretty shitty thing to do" I said.

Turkey just laughed.  I guess those bastards never grew up.  They were
probably the same shits they were in high school.  But suddenly it hit me
how tired I was.  Even inside my head I realized my language was
deteriorating.  I almost never said 'shit'.  My folks taught me better than
that.

I wanted to catch up with Yancy, but he had gotten lost in the crowd.  Then
I could see Paul signaling me to come to the exit.  I worked my way over,
mainly just trying to slip past people whose hands liked to reach out in
uncomfortable ways, even if they were talking to somebody else.  It was
like radar, they knew when I was passing by.  I guess I didn't mind the
sliding of somebody's palm on my butt, or the friendly pat (although after
this week I could live happily without that), but my dick was sore from
everything that had been done to it today.  It really didn't need to be
pulled on or yanked.

When I got to the exit door, Yancy was there with Paul.

"You guys did great!" Paul said.  Then turning to Yancy, he said "Someone
here wants to talk to you about a job."

Yancy looked surprised.  "You mean a job doing stuff like this?  No way."

"No, I mean a real job.  I think he must know what your part time job is
like and has an offer of something better.  Something full time.  Do you
want to come with me now?"

Yancy was completely dressed.  I was having my usual problem getting the
jock strap to fit comfortably after an orgasm.  It just didn't fit right
until things softened.

Paul turned to me. "You have your car.  I'll see Yancy gets home ok.
Thanks Eric."

"Wait!  I've got a bill stuffed up my butt.  How do I get it out?"

Paul was already leaving.  "Take a laxative and hope for the best" he
called over his shoulder.

"Remember our deal" I said but it was like whistling in the wind.  He was
already hurrying back into the room with Yancy.

I finished dressing, feeling the stiffness of the bill up my butt.  I
thought they were going to make new bills softer to prevent counterfeiting,
but obviously I was wrong.  I knew I was walking funny but I went back to
my car.

At the car I reached behind and tried to get a finger up my butt.  I leaned
over and pushed in my hole.  I could touch the end of the bill, but
couldn't get far enough up in there to grip it.  In fact I seemed to be
pushing it further in.

So reluctantly I climbed in.  Sitting down made the feeling worse.  But I
didn't know what to do.  I couldn't go to the emergency room and say some
guy gave me $100 and stuffed it up my butt, please pull it out.  I really
couldn't.  It went against everything I had been taught about being honest
and moral and upright.

Well at least I was still 'upright' because with that thing stuffed in me I
was afraid to move at all.  I sat stiff and rigid and slowly started the
car.  It was a difficult trip home.  But at least, even with this, it gave
me time to think about all this and wondered if I could ever sort out what
it meant for me.  I had just parked the car and hadn't even gotten out when
my cell phone rang.  It was Yancy.

"I got the job!  Oh Eric, I won't ever have to go back to that awful place
any more.  Everything's going to be perfect!"

"What kind of job?"

"I don't know the details, but it pays good."

"Where will you be working?"

"I'll be working with Kevin's uncle, Mr. Bockstrop."

My mind flashed every danger signal I could think of.  "Yancy, where are
you now?  We need to talk."

"Tomorrow, Eric.  Right now I'm with Mr. Bockstrop and he says he'll get me
home after we talk a while.  Eric, this is just wonderful!"

With that he hung up.  Feeling like the earth just swallowed me up, I got
out.  I was exhausted, but more than that, I felt like I had changed.  It
was like the world I had always thought I knew was slipping away from me,
and a new one I didn't understand was opening up.

Climbing the stairs, I almost didn't notice someone crouching in the
shadows beside my front door until I was almost at him.  For an instant I
was afraid it might be Benson and some of them, that maybe the cops had
released them on bond.

The guy must have been sleeping because he suddenly was awake and standing.
He was as tall as I was.  Even in the light from the street lamps I could
see he was red headed and freckle faced.

"Hello" he said.  "Are you Eric?"

"Yes.  Who are you?"

"I'm Patrick."

                         (End of Chapter 13)


(So Patrick has now arrived.  How does that change things?  The story is
beginning to journey its way to an end.)  Bart384yahoo.com