Disclaimer: This story is the impregnated fruit of my warped and deviant imagination. None of the characters within it have ever existed anywhere but in my cranium. Neither town will be found on any map as they too can only be found within my excessively hormone driven perversity. Furthermore: If accessing this site and/or this story causes you to break the laws of your community, village, town, city, county, province, state, country, house, parents, etc., please leave now.
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A story by Danny
To read more stories by Danny go to the Nifty prolific authors section HERE.
"Hello Mr. McGrouter."
"Seth, how many times do I have to ask you to call me Scott? Mr. McGrouter makes me sound so old!"
"Forty-five is old, Mr. McGrouter!" Seth declared as he thrust his hand into his right front pant pocket and pulled out an orange.
I narrowed my eyes warningly at the youth which seemed to please him at knowing he'd once again made me mad.
"I was starting to think you weren't coming today." I commented as he walked up the front steps to my porch and made himself comfortable in the whicker rocker to my left.
"Stupid Mrs. Hartcore made me stay after just because I was late coming in from recess today!" Seth hissed through clenched teeth.
I picked up my cup of coffee and took a swig as he began to peal his orange. The air was suddenly filled with the scent of citrus.
"What?" he asked suspiciously.
"No really, what?" he insisted.
"I was going to ask if that was an orange in your pants or if you were just glad to see me." I said amusedly.
"I like oranges!" he said with a shrug and a half smile.
"You are so late; I'm afraid we won't have time for another story today." I told him, knowing full well that he wouldn't let me get away with that.
"WOAH! WOAH! WOAH!" He all but shouted, and if it was possible, he sounded more upset with me that he had been with his teacher, "You know the deal! You tell me a sexy story and I don't blab to everyone that you like fucking little boys!"
"Don't cuss!" I said to him for the ten-thousandth time, "And keep your voice down!"
I must have been slower than he was expecting because he jumped up and started off the porch while saying, "Fine then!"
"Get back here you little shit!" I snapped as I set my coffee back down in case I had to grab him to stop him.
He turned and demanded, "Tell me about how you got into making pornos." And then mocking me he added, "And stop cussing!"
"Where's the please?" I badgered.
"Tell me, fucker!"
"You've got a dirty mouth." I said.
"Fuck you old man!"
"You wish." I said flatly.
He lowered his chin and looked at me with distain, "I didn't know you were funny."
"Oh yeah, I'm a regular funny man!"
"Are you going to tell me about how you got into making porno movies or not?"
"I already told you about that." I said even though I knew I hadn't.
He stood with one hand on the porch column and the other holding his half pealed orange.
The sun had dropped low enough that it was almost directly behind his head, making his sun-bleached hair seem to glow like a halo. I knew better; there was nothing angelic about Seth!
I sighed, signifying my surrender and he smiled knowing he was about to get his way yet again.
God I hate when he smiles! It makes me want to bend him over the porch railing, yank his trousers off and fuck him into unconsciousness!
I picked up my coffee again and took another sip before I began.
"As you are already aware, I lived much of my life in Waterford and for the most part, it had been a good life... oh who am I kidding? It was an amazing life; that is until about two and a half years ago when a single bad, drunken decision on my part destroyed my life, my marriage, my job, and most painfully of all, caused me to lose my church deaconship."
I lifted my right foot and rested it upon my left knee so that I could then rest my cup of coffee upon the side of my shoe.
I glanced to Seth who was looking annoyed due to the pause and also because he knew that part of our deal was that he had to listen to my entire story and not just the sex parts which he enjoyed so much.
"Bet you'd like me to sit on your lap while you tell me about all this?" he asked with devilish spite.
"You might not believe this, but I wouldn't touch you with someone else's dick!" I told him with intent of hurting him emotionally.
This is where he was ahead of me, he knew that, in fact, I did want to fuck him raw; however it would take me a while before I would realize that fact about myself.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.
"It means you are not just ugly inside, but..."
He got my meaning that time and frowned. "Yeah right! You'd fuck a troll baby and you know it!"
"Do you talk to your mother that same way?" I asked.
"Leave my mom out of it or else!" he warned.
Knowing I found a tender spot I smiled inside as I took another sip of coffee before I continued my story.
"I had been to a bachelor party for a childhood friend, which started out fine and went along like any other bachelor party... not that you would know what that would be like. It went along normally until sometime around 4 o'clock in the morning when I woke up in a strange bed, in a strange house, with a strange woman lying on top of me."
"You mean a boy?" Seth interrupted.
"NOOOOO! I mean a woman!" I said with a bit of attitude at his assumption that I only liked fucking boys.
He gave me a questioning gaze but sat quietly so that I would continue.
"All right, fine! The woman wasn't actually a woman but a twenty-two-year-old black transvestite whom I'd never met before that night."
"What's a trans... transv..." he started to ask.
"A guy who likes to dress up as a woman." I told him flatly.
"Oh, so it was a guy. I knew it!" Seth said smugly.
"Yes you're very smart! Now shut up!" I griped and continued, "He went by the name of Alice, but his real name was Alex. I have since learned that he was a short-order cook by day and a part-time bouncer in a gentlemen's club by night. On his nights off, he enjoyed throwing his weight around in the bedroom. Yeah, that's right; Alice was a BIG cross-dressing slut... just my type... apparently!"
"Guys in dresses are sick!" Seth proclaimed.
"Shut up or I'll put you in a dress!" I threatened.
However, Seth didn't react as I thought he would. I expected him to either fire some snide comment back or perhaps a threat of his own. Instead, his eyes went wide and a tiny smile appeared on his face for a fraction of a second before he forced it into a scowl.
Realizing that I may have finally discovered one of the boys' deep dark secrets, I pretended that I didn't see his momentary smile and continued my story.
"At some point during our bender, someone at the bachelor party had suggested that we move the party to a strip joint in New Jersey, which was where I officially met Alice."
"You mean Alex." Seth interrupted again.
I shot him a warning gaze for interrupting.
He sighed hard, "Get it right!"
"Fine, it was where I met ALEX!" I said strongly.
He seemed pleased.
"I don't remember any of this, but I've been able to piece it together from the testimony against me at the divorce hearing from those I used to call friends, as they testified to what had happened during that night."
"With friends like that..." Seth started to say.
"You know it!" I agreed.
"Anyway, Seth and I hit it off and one thing lead to another and..."
"NOT ME!" Seth shouted and laughed at the same time.
"Not me, what?" I was honestly confused.
"You said Seth and I hit it off." Seth repeated.
"Yes you did!" he said still laughing.
"Sorry, I guess it was hopeful thinking." I joked.
Seth's smile and laughter turned to another scowl.
"In your dreams!" he said with mean intent.
"Oh yes! I dream about your tasty body every night!" I said back just as meanly.
"Just finish the story so I can go!" he said.
"Hey if you want to leave you can go now!" I said knowing full well he wouldn't go without hearing the rest of the story.
He gave me a look that said he wasn't amused at all.
"Alex and I had apparently hit it off. One thing had led to another," I leaned slightly toward Seth and spoke with a bit of allure to my voice, "...with `another' meaning me in Alex's bed, under him, as he bounced on my rod; which until that night, had never been in any other person besides my wife."
I paused for half a second before adding almost as an afterthought, "Except during my early teen years of course."
"HA! I knew you did it when you were young!" Seth said with an accusing finger.
"I never said I hadn't."
"Yes you did! You said the other day you never had sex with boys until after your divorce!" Seth said angrily.
I shook my head, "You are once again hearing what you want to hear and not what I am telling you!"
"Am not!" he argued.
"I said..." As I paused for dramatic effect, "`had never been inside another person', I didn't say anything about boys!"
He looked bewildered.
It was my turn to sigh.
"In my teen years, I was either with same aged boys or guys older than me?" I said in a questioning manner so that he could then get my meaning.
"OOOOH!" he said, "Okay then, tell me about that instead."
"Nope! The deal is one story a day. If you want to hear about that, you'll have to wait until tomorrow."
"Oh that reminds me, I won't be over tomorrow...," He started to say.
"Halleluiah! I get a day away from Seth!"
He frowned and it seemed genuine, but then he finished what he was saying, "...UNTIL LATER!"
I frowned this time.
He seemed oddly joyous as he stated, "I have a doctor's appointment."
Now, I could have taken that and used it as an excuse to get out of telling him another sex story tomorrow, but in all honesty; as much as I hate the little shit and the fact that he is blackmailing me, I get a thrill out of telling this 11-year-old boy stories that get him all hot and bothered. Though I have no proof of it, I am sure he races home each day after one of my stories and pleasures himself over the memory of that day's story.
"I was going to work on the house tomorrow after our normal visit..." I said as though thinking out loud, "Maybe you'd like to help me while I tell you another story?"
He pondered that for a moment before asking, "What are you working on this time?"
"I need to replace a leaking pipe in the basement."
He thought some more before agreeing, "Yeah okay, but you have to tell me about when you were a teenager!"
"All right then! Until tomorrow!" I said and pretended I was getting up.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked with venom dripping from each word. "You haven't finished today's story!"
"Oh? Oh well, I guess you're right." I playfully said as I glanced down at him.
He didn't seem the least bit amused at my deception. I gave a small chuckle and continued as I settled down again.
"Now, where was I? Oh yes! That one drunken transgression probably could have been kept secret from my wife, my church and my employer only if two things had not happened."
Seth's eyebrows lifted expectantly.
"First, the entire sex act was broadcast live on the Internet," I leaned toward Seth and whispered for effect, "apparently, Alex was also a Web-Whore! Bringing home drunken men and broadcasting their acts to thousands of paying fans all over the world."
Seth honestly smiled just a bit as though acknowledging my observation.
He then asked, "What was the second thing?"
I rubbed my forehead in frustration, "The second thing was... in the middle of a very compromising moment for me, Alex had a heart-attack and died on top of me."
Seth leaned back in his chair and gasped. I wasn't quite sure why he gasped, but he did just the same. At the same time he gasped, he hadn't realized that he'd reached down to adjust himself. It was the first time since the little fucker had begun blackmailing me that I had ever detected any physical sign from him that my stories were in fact turning him on.
I think it was also at that very same moment that something in me changed in the way that I looked at Seth. Oh sure I have always thought that his golden hair and deep blue eyes were amazing, but until that very instant, I hadn't actually seen him as attractive. Suddenly I found myself memorizing everything about him. The way his bangs hung down in his eyes. How he squinted when he was thinking and how his two front teeth seemed large in comparison to his surrounding baby teeth. And of course, I also noticed the small bulge in his school trousers.
In hopes of keeping him in that same position so as to see if his cock grew any more, I continued my story, "Now, I'm five-foot-five and weigh in at a whopping 130 pounds sopping wet and three days constipated!"
Seth chuckled at the use of the word constipated.
"As you can see, I'm not muscular. However, what I lack in bulk and height, I make up for in charm and whit."
Seth rolled his eyes and placed both arms on the arm rests of his chair, effectively leaving himself wide open for my viewing pleasure.
"As you already know," I continued, "I used to be married to my high school sweetheart, have three beautiful children..."
"All girls right?" he asked.
"That's correct." I stated.
"I had a great job selling cars," I again leaned forward and whispered, "and I was extremely good at it too!"
He rolled his eyes again but otherwise didn't move.
"I had a beautiful home on the right side of the tracks, so to speak, and I was a deacon in my church. I had a great life and it was a life I was very proud of; but that is all gone now. The divorce was nasty and left me devastated physically, emotionally and financially. What pains me the most is that I'm only allowed to see my daughters under supervised visitation for two hours every other weekend."
"Good thing you didn't have sons. You probably would have fucked them too." Seth said, and honestly, I don't think he even knew he'd said it at first because he too appeared surprised by his own words.
I began to feel my blood boiling in my veins and it must have shown because he sat up and said, "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."
Well, that was another first for our relationship. Seth had never before that day apologized for saying something nasty to me. Actually he has said far worse things.
I shook my head and looked away as I sat silent for a moment and then as though he hadn't said anything, I continued, but I didn't look at the boy.
"I knew that everything I cherished in my life was gone when three Police Officers rolled Alex's body off of me. That's when they saw that I was wearing a ladies bra, had ladies panties stuffed in my mouth, lip stick smeared across my mouth, eye-shadow festooned upon my eyes and a large, rubber, equestrian phallus lodged deeply inside of my ass."
"What's a phallus?" Seth asked.
I looked back to him and he was again sitting back with his knees spread wide. The front of his pants were tenting more than before and this time, he noticed me looking but he didn't move or say anything about it.
Unable to take my eyes off his crotch I answered, "A phallus is another word for penis."
"Oh," was his only response until he asked, "And what is "Equestrian?"
He said it perfectly and I smiled.
"Horse," I answered quickly and then let him think on that for several seconds.
I could actually see the thoughts forming in his eyes and soon became an image.
With wide, surprised eyes he asked softly, "You had a horse penis in your bottom?"
I noticed he whispered his question and he hadn't used a single curse word.
"It wasn't a real one, just a sex-toy made out of silicone-rubber." I told him.
I could see other questions forming in his young mind and in an effort to circumvent them, I continued my story.
"The entire mess made the evening news and by noon the following day, I had been thrown out of my own house, fired from my job, and stripped of Deaconship at my church. Everyone I used to call family and friends turned their backs on me; including my own mother, who I had been financially supporting for years. I think the most painful moment was when my younger brother, who I had looked out for all his life and who I'd bailed out of jail not two weeks prior for his third DUI, pulled a gun on me when I appeared at his door. He threatened to shot me in the face if I ever showed up at his home again."
"That's messed up!" Seth said and I was taken aback; Seth was actually being human!
"Yes. Yes, it was `messed up'! I have zero doubt that I would have ended up living in a cardboard box within weeks of the divorce being finalized had someone of financial means not seen the webcast and searched me out."
"Probably some Perv-o!" Seth stated.
"Not exactly." I said knowingly, "I was at a gas station, putting my last seventeen bucks into my gas tank. I was approached by a woman, who did not look the part of someone in the porn business. She was dressed in a tailored business suit, hair not quite shoulder length and slicked back. She made me an offer that, at the time, I found grotesquely offensive and morally appalling. However, when one has nothing, including food, money or a roof over one's head, you'd be surprised how easy it is to embrace the grotesque and appalling."
I looked up from Seth's crotch to see him smiling wickedly and in that moment, I saw the old Seth again. I should have known that he'd been doing all that on purpose just to see my reaction and to probably use it against me.
"Shit!" I thought, "How could I have let my guard down?!"
Still smiling he ordered, "Go on..."
I wanted to strangle the life out of him, but somehow I was able to restrain myself. I picked up my coffee again and downed the last of it before I continued.
"She had slipped her business card into my left front pant pocket when I wouldn't take it from her. After she left, I removed it, but not before looking around to be sure no one was watching me. It was completely white and contained only a ten digit phone number and nothing else; no name, address or anything. I almost threw it away, but after a moment's hesitation, I stuffed it back into the same pocket and finished dispensing the fuel into my tank."
"After my first sleepless night in the back of my SUV and nearly freezing to death, I pulled the card back out and called the number. One very brief call later and I was in the business of live internet porn shows. Before too long, I was making a fairly decent living at it. Granted I had to perform three and four times a day, and I was both fucking and being fucked by every sort of man or woman and even a few barely legal boys and girls, but hell, it kept me from sleeping on the streets and living on canned cat food!"
"You got fucked too?" Seth asked but it was how he asked more than what he asked. He sounded almost interested again, however I wasn't falling for it this time.
"Do you want to keep asking questions or do you want to hear the rest of this?"
"Fine!" he said and crossed his arms over his chest in a symbolic surrendering.
"I continued to live out of my SUV, but at least I was able talk my way into freely parking it in a temperature controlled parking garage that was in the next town west of Waterford. After they realized I was sleeping in my parked vehicle, I managed to keep doing it by slipping the evening garage attendant a six-pack at least once a week to look the other way. It also turned out that he very much enjoyed getting his brains fucked out. At first, I wasn't interested in fucking him for free, but then I realized I wasn't actually fucking him for free; I was fucking him for rent."
Seth made a face and nodded like he was agreeing with that logic.
"I saved every penny and dime I could and being the savvy money man that I have always been, I invested it in quick little stock deals. Before too long, I had amassed a small nest egg, enough to move myself far from my ex-wife and everyone that knew me. I looked for a small town in the middle of nowhere, where I could live my life without people pointing at me."
"And this was that town?" He asked.
"You're so smart!" I said snottily and he grimaced back at me.
"Once I moved in, to alleviate suspicion as to what I did for a living, I was quick to open a small internet based consulting company out of my home and hung a shingle out in front of my house," I pointed to the sign hanging from the same porch column Seth had been leaning on earlier, "with a cell phone number on it which, as you have so smartly figured out on your own, rings to a legitimate sounding pre-recorded answering service."
Seth smiled smugly.
"It, as you already know, is of course completely false, but the townspeople and the IRS need not know that. RIGHT?"
Seth nodded and saluted me, "Yes sir!"
"There! You've had your story for today!" I stated as I again picked up my now empty coffee cup and stood.
"Wait!" Seth said quickly, "Can I ask one more question?"
"Did you like looking at my crotch?" he asked and before I could take a swing at him, he laughingly sprang from the rocker, leaped over the porch railing and ran up the street laughing loud enough for me to hear.
Seth has a way of getting me so mad, mostly at myself, that I want to hit someone or something. However, instead, I use that anger and focus it into productive energy.
Since moving into town, I hadn't met too many of my neighbors, mostly because I had been too busy working on the house I had bought. When I purchased the place, it was neglected and desperately in need of some love and several buckets of paint. For the first two weeks, I didn't even have running water or a working toilet. However, that wasn't anything I wasn't used to from living in my SUV. Actually I felt as though I was living like a king, having a bucket with a toilet seat attached to do my business on.
It has taken months, but the inside is nearly complete. The only project I have left is to lay the tile floor in the kitchen; however the tile I ordered has been backordered twice. I would have been done in half the time had I not needed to keep traveling north for `work'.
With nothing else to be done inside and the very wet spring weather having abated to a much warmer and drier summer, it was time to move my improvements outside.
I don't know what it is about a guy with a shovel that makes perfect strangers stop and talk to you when it is obvious you don't want to stand around talking but wish to dig. What should have been a single afternoon, or at the very most a weekend job of digging up overgrown shrubs turned into a full six days of interruption after interruption.
Now don't get me wrong, I am neither antisocial nor un-neighborly. I am just someone who, once I set my mind to a job, wants to get it done as quickly and efficiently as I am capable of doing without killing myself.
I had all kinds of visitors; mostly people walking their dogs or kids riding their bikes or skateboards rolling past the house. There were even those who came by to offer to do the job I was doing if I paid them. Those people bugged me a bit; I mean, there I was with a shovel in my hand and slinging dirt; apparently I was not only capable but wanting to do the job myself. If I wanted to pay someone to do it, then why would I even be out there?
Sorry, I got off track, but I think you get the idea that during those few days, I had met quite a few people from the neighborhood.
There were a couple people I met that I didn't actually mind them interrupting my work. One was this sweet little old lady who, at first, I took for a very lonely old woman wanting someone to talk too. But then I found out that she not only was born in my house, but her great, great grandfather built the place in 1823. I found that particularly interesting because when I bought the house, I was told it had been built earlier than that. She was a treasure trove of history on the place. Apparently the original house, which was built thirteen years earlier, had caught fire and burnt to the ground. Thankfully, she told me no one had died in the fire.
I ended up finishing the front yard in the middle of the night so I wouldn't be bothered again. I did the same thing with planting several new trees and shrubs. I took great delight in sitting here in my study which has a window that overlooks the front of the house and watched as people stopped to look at my handy work and marvel at how it seemed to have been completed by magic.
Actually, that is how I tackled the entire landscaping and painting of the house. Oh sure, working in the middle of the night gets old fast due to the lack of sleep, but listening to, and watching the reactions of everyone was more than worth the lost pillow time. However, it also affected my `work' a bit. But after the first failed attempt to perform, I was given some nice little blue pills. After that I never had a problem performing for the camera again. I have a nice stock pile of them here at the house now too; not that I have had a chance to use them, but luck favors the prepared.
All-in-all, the house is looking great and I feel great for having done all the work myself. That is until exactly seventeen days ago when I happen to fall off my second story roof. Now, before you get all worried, I didn't get hurt; well not too much. I was sore for a few days and I am still moving a bit slow but otherwise, no broken bones. Oddly, the instant I hit the ground, I realized how absolutely stupid it was to try to re-point the chimney in the middle of the night without any safety gear and lighting. I ended up hiring a company out of Jeffersonville, to take care of the chimney and to replace several missing or damaged slate roof tiles.
After that fall, I put an end to my nightly home improvements. I figured, I used up my one `Get Out of Dying' card for this life.
The day I first met Seth, I was in the back yard marking for a new wooden fence right after the guys I'd hired to re-point the chimney and repair the roof had left. That is when this kid, who looked to be no more than twelve, rode his bike up on my lawn, past the side of the house and into my back yard.
My first reactive thought was not a pleasant one at all. I wanted to pick him and his bike up and give them both a toss. However, demonstrating a great deal of self-control, I somehow managed to smile and forced a semi-friendly, "Hello."
The kid was looking at the small stake I was driving in the ground to mark where I wanted one of the fence posts to be. I was sure he was going to ask me what I was doing but he didn't.
"Hi! My names Seth, what's yours?"
"Scott, Scott McGrouter," I said still annoyed by him riding his bicycle on my lawn; but I was hiding it well.
"You're that guy that fell off the roof the other day huh?" he asked.
I honestly didn't realize anyone knew about that, so it caught me off guard, "How...How'd you hear about that?"
"Are you kidding? Everyone in town is talking about it." Seth said like I should have known that already.
"Th-they are? But..." I didn't get to finish my thought.
He pointed to the chimney at the top of the roof line, "My uncle did that."
I knew instantly how the entire town had heard about my fall. I told the contractor, he left and probably went right to the town gossip circle. The amazing thing was that the contractor had left less than a half hour ago.
"Your uncle, huh?" I said with a slight aggravated chuckle.
"How come you didn't die?" he asked.
I chuckled again and went back to pounding in the stake. "Guess I had an angel watching out for me the other night."
"More like a whole flock of them!" Seth said with a laugh.
As I attempted to stand up from my kneeling position I must have made a groan or something because Seth's tone changed from a quizzical, annoying child to something that sounded like real concern.
The boy was beside me in an instant, letting his bike drop to one side. "Are you sure you're okay Mr. McGrouter?"
I became keenly aware of the boys hand touching my bare shoulder. The boys touch and the sudden change in tone, or maybe I was still suffering from the fall the other day, but I felt a sudden rush of vertigo. My vision seemed to narrow dramatically in an attempt to focus on the boy. Everything else, the yard, the house and everything around me - all shot way out of focus. The boy's hand was soft and limp. The softness of his touch seemed to run like an electric shock to my brain. The boy was next to naked barring his baggy denim shorts. I had to stop myself from falling over. I was aware of the boy's brow furrowed with concern, his golden bangs handing down in front of his vivid blue eyes, the downy peach fuzz hair on the boy's sun-kissed arms and legs; the beads of sweat on the boy's naked chest; the soft stomach with just a hint of baby fat. The boy's hand on my shoulder felt like a sexual act in and of itself.
And with that last thought, I felt a heaving deep in my gut. I turned and ran toward the garage and the new plastic trash can. I barely got the lid off when the contents of my stomach exploded from the back of my throat. It's amazing how good Tuna Salad tastes going down and how horrible it is coming back up.
"Mr. McGrouter, are you okay? Should I get someone?"
Seth had followed me to the garage and was standing behind me.
I coughed and retched again, only this time nothing came out. I spat while pulling my bandana from my back pocket to wipe my mouth and then cleared my throat.
"I'm okay." I lied.
"Maybe you got too much sun?" Seth offered as an explanation.
Seth helped me to the side porch where I settled down on the porch swing.
"You don't look so good Mr. McGrouter."
"Please, call me Scott."
"I-I think I better go get my mom." He said and was nearly off the porch before I stopped him.
"No, please don't. I'll be alright. I just need to rest a moment."
Seth pulled up one of the whicker loungers that litter the wrap-around porch and reclined upon it. I found myself mesmerized by his brown, sunbaked skin against the white of the linen cushions. His bare feet pointing towards me, he rocked from side-to-side as he studied me intently.
"Really, I'm all right." I assured him.
He seemed to relax just a bit and leaned back in the chair, offering me a tantalizing glimpse of his soft inner thigh inside the gaping leg openings of his baggy denim shorts. I'm not sure if he knew I was looking or not; but then again he was only a boy. I was sure he wasn't yet knowledgeable of the fact that people like myself think of such things when looking at someone like him.
After a moment of watching me, he asked, "Would you like a glass of water or something?"
"Yes, yes I think that would be a good idea." I agreed.
I pointed to the side door, "If you go through there and turn right at the end of the hallway, it will take you to the kitchen. There are several bottles of water in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator."
Seth didn't hesitate. He pulled open the wooden screen door, letting it slam closed behind him as he hurried to fetch the water. I found the sound of his bare feet padding across the hardwood floor oddly calming.
I assumed he got lost as it took him a couple minutes to return. At the time I hadn't thought anything of it but in retrospect, I never should have let him into my home alone.
While he had been in the house, he went into the room I was now using as my home office. Now normally I keep that room locked, but for some odd reason, on that day, I had forgotten to close and lock the door. There had been a video paused right on a scene with me plowing the ass of a very-young looking nineteen-year-old while sucking the cock of an even younger looking eighteen-year-old. Seth had watched a minute or more of the video before stopping it and returning with the water.
Had I not been feeling so poorly, I probably would have realized how long the boy had been gone and suspected something.
"Thank you." I said as I took one of the bottles, unscrewed the cap and took a couple sips, "Oh yeah, that's better."
"I never saw anybody else blow chucks before." Seth said in his youthful sort of way.
I think I smiled.
We sat and nursed our bottles of water. I was feeling much better but couldn't shake the thought that he may have caused me to get sick in the first place. I also couldn't bring myself to look at the boy again for fear that he would read in my eyes what I had been thinking and was still thinking. Had I looked at him, I would have read in his face and eyes that he'd seen my video. Maybe I could have said something or done something at the time to keep this boy from coming up with a plan to blackmail me.
"Your house looks real nice inside." Seth said.
"Thank you. I've worked hard to make it so."
"I never saw it look so good." he added.
That last statement puzzled me, "Had you seen it before?"
"Oh yeah, lots of times. I used to sneak in..." He quickly stopped and appeared extremely guilty about something as he hung his head and studied his curled toes.
I smiled, "Don't worry, I won't tell. It hasn't been that long ago that I was a boy like you. An empty house makes for a lot of fun."
Seth smiled and looked up at me for only half a moment. I nearly fainted again.
"Got to stop making him smile like that!" I thought to myself.
He then started to look guilty again and was purposefully looking down at his feet.
"What?" I asked.
It took him a few seconds to speak.
"Did...Did you find anything in the house?" he asked and I knew in that instant what he was fishing for.
I think it was my second day in the house, when I was exploring every nook and cranny that I found a BB gun stashed in one of the bedrooms upstairs. It looked kind of new and I hadn't thought too much about it at the time. However, now I knew who it belonged to and how it had ended up in that closet. I decided to drag this out a bit to see where it might lead.
"Oh I found quite a bit of interesting stuff in this old place. Antique bottles, an old coal shovel in the cellar, and up in the attic I found a real nice pair of silver candle sticks that had been lovingly rapped in old newspapers..." I suddenly remembered another odd stash of items I'd found hidden quite well in the basement.
"Oh and oddly enough," I continued, "I found a pretty healthy collection of catalogs and nudie magazines."
Seth blushed and I knew I had him.
"I see," I leaned forward, "Don't worry, I won't tell about those either."
Seth smiled again and I felt a sudden tightness in my pants.
I leaned back, took another sip of water while pretending to look off in the distance in thought.
"Oh yeah, and I found a BB gun."
"THAT'S MINE!" Seth shouted with emotion.
I couldn't help wondering why he would have hid it in this place. I mean, it looked expensive. Then I got an idea.
"Bet your parents wouldn't be too happy knowing about that huh?"
Once more, Seth looked guilty.
"How'd you manage to come to own a BB Gun that nice?"
Seth would never make a good liar. His face would give him away in a second.
I decided to try to guess how he got it.
"NO! I bought it with my birthday money!"
By his tone and quick answer I believed him on that one.
"But your parents wouldn't be too happy knowing you bought it? Is that why you hid it in this house?" I asked, and knew I had hit the nail on the head by his body language.
"Tell you what. You can keep it hid here for now."
Seth smiled wide and stood up, "I guess I best be going. That is, as long as you are sure you're okay?"
"Well, thank you for your help, and it was a pleasure to meet you Seth."
I stood up and pretended to clear my throat and then asked him, "Would you do me a favor and not tell anyone about this? I mean... well, I just rather not have everyone in town talking about that too."
Seth shook his head, "I won't tell."
And with that, he ran off the side porch, jumped on his bike and peddled out of sight.
I moved onto the loungers vacated by Seth. It was still warm from where the boy had been lying. I put my hands behind my head and closed my eyes.
The vertigo had been completely unexpected. Since entering the porn business, sex was something I thought of as `WORK' and almost never thought of it for pleasure. Oh sure, having sex with older boys and some younger was fun and enjoyable, but it was still `WORK'. And since buying the house, I had kept myself too busy to allow myself to think about finding someone special to share my home with. I wasn't sure I wanted one. All right, that isn't entirely true. I did allow myself to fantasies at times while lying in my bed awaiting sleep. It seemed that during those times, my sexual fantasies had regressed to my early teen years. Perhaps the solitude I had thrust upon myself was taking its toll.
And then that first night after having met Seth, I began remembering myself as I had been at Seth's age, younger in fact. I had been seduced by older boys as well as my own Uncle for whom I lived with after my parents both went to prison. Despite the risks, I had a dozen or so flings shared with the other neighborhood boys. Some, I had fallen in love with and others who just wanted to use me. And it was as if, in Seth, my fantasy had become flesh in this new house. My fantasy, that was at that moment, surely off playing somewhere, half-naked and getting his eleven-year-old body sweaty and dirty.
The morning after having met Seth, I was awakened by a loud knocking at my front door. I was still in bed and had to quickly get up, pull on my robe and race downstairs to see who it was. Early morning and late evening knockings are never a good thing and that is what I was expecting when I opened the front door.
"SETH?!" I exclaimed at seeing him standing there looking splendid in his school uniform and his hair freshly combed.
Without being invited, Seth opened the screen door and walked into my house. I looked over to the clock on the wall above the fireplace and saw that it was twenty of seven.
"Aren't you going to be late for school?" I asked.
He stepped around me, walked over and dropped himself onto my sofa with a spring busting bounce.
"Not going today." Seth announced smugly, "I'm ditching school and you're going to let me hide out here."
I was honestly taken aback. I even staggered as though I'd just taken a sucker-punch, right cross to the temple.
"Excuse me?" I managed to ask.
He then dropped the bomb on me.
His chin pulled in, his eyes narrowed as the corners of his mouth curled up forebodingly. When he spoke he sounded... well demonic.
"I saw your dirty movie yesterday."
My throat suddenly went dry and I found myself nearly coughing up a lung as I braced myself against the still open door while trying to catch my breath.
I sounded completely unconvincing as I tried to speak, "I...I have no idea what you... what you are talking about."
He lifted his hands above his head, laced his fingers together and placed them behind his head while at the same time propping his feet up on my glass coffee table.
"Oh I think you know exactly what I am talking about." He said sounding so much older than eleven.
I closed the door and tried again to speak. Instead, the sound of my guilt became even more apparent.
"I...I...I... don't... I don't know what you could...have seen. I mean... there was nothing."
He smiled knowingly and I felt like my head was going to implode.
He began to loudly chant as though singing a childhood playground song, "Mr. McGrouter fucks boys! Mr. McGrouter fucks boys! Mr. McGrouter fucks boys!"
Before I knew what I was doing, I ran toward him and threw my hand over his mouth to try to silence him. He struggled to remove my hand; of course his smallness was nothing compared to me. I could have silenced him right then and there and probably would have, had I known just how demonic he really was. Then he did something that both stopped me and left me lying face down in agony on the sofa. His left shoe came up quickly and the toe of it collided with my groin which was only protected by a thin cotton summer bathrobe.
In my moment of blinding pain, Seth had managed to get out from under me and while standing behind me he kicked me again. His foot went deep between my legs and collided for a second time with my balls.
"OH GOD!" I cried out and threw myself up and backward.
The backs of my legs hit the coffee table; I lost my balance, fell backward, and crashed into the glass table.
"WHOA, COOL!" Seth sang out.
The next thing I knew, I was waking up looking up at my living room ceiling. I'd apparently passed out from either the fall, or the pain in my balls, or both. Oddly, my first thought was that I needed to repaint the ceiling as it had dried splotchy. Then Seth's face came into view and I remembered what had happened in a flash of red, flaming anger which instantly filled my every cell.
"Good! You're awake again!" He cheered with a happy-go-lucky smile.
He was sitting on my stomach, leaning forward and bracing himself with his hands resting on my shoulders.
"Get off me!" I growled and attempted to roll him off, but I couldn't move.
That is when I realized that, while I had been unconscious, the little shit had tied me up using a broom across my chest and a hell of a lot of duct-tape.
I instantly regretted the fact that duct-tape was in great abundance in my new place. When I had seen the amazing sale of ten rolls for ten-dollars at Home-2-Palace Hardware, I bought thirty-dollars worth.
"WHAT THE FUCK?" I shouted, which was completely out of character for me. Then again, being duct-taped to the floor with a broomstick strapped across my chest isn't actually `normal' for me either.
"Now relax Mr. McGrouter." Seth said softly as he patted my cheek.
I struggled against the tape, which caused my hairs to be ripped from my arms and chest.
"GET THE FUCK OFF ME AND..." I stopped mid-sentence when I realized I couldn't move my legs either.
He hadn't just used a single roll to tape me to the wood floor; that much was clear to me now. Seth stood up, feet still on either side of me, and then dropped suddenly. His boney ass collided with my stomach, effectively driving the air from my lungs.
"OOOOOOOH!" I cried.
"Listen here old man! Unless you want the whole town to know you like fucking boys! This is how things are going to be!"
He stood and dropped again before he went on to lay out his very well thought out plan. Actually it was brilliantly thought out for an adult, but to have an eleven year old come up with it? Well that was beyond brilliant!
"I am not doing anything! now let me the fuck up!"
He stood a third time and I tightened my abs, prepared for him to drop his ass on my stomach again. But he didn't. Instead, his right leg came up, crossed my chest and he started to walk away.
Oddly, my first thought was to look down and make sure my robe was still closed; for under it, I was completely nude. I'm not sure why that was so worrisome to me, I mean, given the predicament I found myself in. It was kind of a ludicrous concern to have under the circumstances.
Sure that my robe was closed, I turned my attention back to Seth. "COME BACK HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT!"
He didn't even pause or look back to me. He simply walked over to the table beside my favorite chair and picked up a stack of DVD's which hadn't been there before.
He came back over and stood above my head as he started showing each one to me. They each had professional style labels and each one I knew all too well. In the past several months I had starred in each and every one of them. What was worse was that my first name and my face were on the cover of each one.
"Where'd you get those you little fucker?" then I realized that they were my own stash from my home office, "Wait!" I tried to twist my head up and around to look down the hallway to see if the door to my office was still shut, but from where I was lying I couldn't see that far.
Seth smacked me in the face with one of the DVD cases.
"Pay attention!" he snapped.
"When I get up from here I am going to..."
I didn't get to finish what I was saying because Seth stuffed a cloth in my mouth. I wish I would have had the presence of mind to have bit his little fingers clean off!
"That's better!" he said as calm as could be.
"Now, I know your secret and if you want me to keep it to myself, then you have to agree to tell me about each time you've had sex. And you cannot leave out a single detail! Do we have a deal?" he asked.
I spat out the cloth and shouted, "LET ME UP!"
Seth sighed loudly; then set down the DVD's and picked back up the roll of duct-tape. With no warning whatsoever, he punched me hard in the nose. And when I screamed out in pain, he stuffed the rag back into my mouth and taped it into place before I even knew what was happening.
The pain was bad, but it was nothing compared to what was coming next.
Unable to speak or move, I watched as Seth stood up, walked over to the fireplace and selected the fire poker. With wide, fearful eyes I watched as he slowly walked around me. He moved slowly, all the while keeping his eyes locked onto mine. He stopped between my feet and legs, which were spread wide and taped down so well that there was nothing I could do to stop what was about to happen.
Using the poker, he reached out and spread my robe open, exposing my limp, hairy manhood.
"Eew! They even look old!" Seth commented as he lightly jabbed at my dick with the end of the poker, "Why would anyone ever want to see your old dick in a porno?"
I jerked my head up and mumbled several curse-words into the wadded up rag.
He gave a self-amused chuckle and a half smile before saying, "All you have to do is nod your head that we have a deal and this won't have to happen."
Though I couldn't speak, I am sure Seth understood the muffled cursing I was attempting to utter.
I watched in horror as he pulled back the poker very much like he was about to tee off, he swung it down and into my groin. I have never known pain like that in my life. My vision failed me as tears gushed from my eyes. I was unable to breathe as I heard the whoosh of the poker cutting through the air seconds before it collided again with my already aching balls.
My screams were completely muffled. Unless someone was standing right under the living room window, they wouldn't have heard me.
"Do we have a deal?" I heard him ask again but I was in so much pain I was unable to answer him.
WACK! – WACK! – WACK!
He gave me three quick, consecutive strikes and then shouted at me, "ANSWER ME FUCKER!"
The pain was too much and I passed out for a second time.
I only came too again when Seth dumped an entire pitcher of ice cold water on my face.
"Shit man, I was starting to think you would sleep all day!" Seth remarked jovially.
Lifting my head, I was able to look up at the clock on the wall and blurrily saw that it was nearly eleven o'clock. I'd been unconscious for hours.
"Okay, so I had some time to think and decided to up the stakes a little." Seth said as he set the empty pitcher on the floor beside my head, "I have taken all your dirty movies that I could find and taken them someplace secret where only I know to find them." He chuckled with self-amusement, "The funny thing is; if something ever happens to me, the first place my parents will look for me, they will instead find your movies."
He patted my left cheek, "Pretty smart of me huh?"
I looked down and saw that my robe was closed again. I couldn't help but wonder what my dick and balls must look like after the beating he'd given them.
Seth then walked over top of me to the far side of the room. I watched him as he stopped and picked up something. He turned and in his hand was his BB-Gun.
My eyes nearly popped out of my head at the shear thought of what this little beast was going to do with it.
He stood between my feet again and using the barrel of the gun, reopened my robe. Then he stood erect, pumped the gun once and asked, "So what's your answer old man?"
I shook my head vigorously with the intent of begging him not to do it, but he took it to mean I wouldn't agree to his deal. While I had been unconscious, Seth must have added more tape to my mouth because my scream sounded even more muffled as I watched him take aim.
Thankfully, he didn't pull the trigger; for right at that very second, a sound of someone on the front porch had stopped him. He ran over to the door where he must have placed a chair earlier and climbed up on it to look out the peephole. The thought crossed my mind that maybe someone else had come earlier and he'd got the chair to look out then and just left it there.
When he stepped back down and turned toward me, he was smiling, "Just the mailman."
I dropped my head to the floor and started to cry again. Apparently this seemed to upset him.
"Stop that or I will give you something to really cry about!"
Oh, the number of times I heard that as a child, from my own parents, seconds before they would take a belt, spatula or any other object to whip my ass. I could only guess Seth's parents used that line on him as well.
"I said stop that!" he shouted before driving the butt of his BB-Gun into my balls.
Unable to take any more of it, I began to vigorously nod my head, even banging it against the floor in my exuberance to make him understand that he won.
"Oh, so you are agreeing?" he asked with what sounded like disappointment.
I honestly think he was enjoying torturing me and was disappointed that I'd given in already.
I continued to nod and look up at him pleadingly.
He smiled and drove the butt of the gun into my groin once, twice and then once more for good measure.
"I don't believe you!" he hissed through clenched teeth and flaming eyes, "You just want me to let you up so you can beat the shit out of me and make me tell you were the movies are."
He hit my balls again and again.
"OH MY GOD! NO MORE! NO MORE!" I screamed into the wadded rag.
Through tear drenched eyes, I looked up at him and tried to will him to believe that I wouldn't harm him. I would have agreed to anything to get him to stop abusing my balls.
And suddenly he stopped, leaned the gun against my favorite chair, and squatted down beside me. While looking me in the eye, he reached down and in a quick yank, removed the tape from my mouth. He then pulled the rag out as well.
As soon as the rag was removed I projectile vomited all over myself; and no sooner had I stopped vomiting, I then began begging him to believe me.
"I swear! I won't hurt you! I won't touch you at all! Please! Dear God please don't hurt me anymore!" I blubbered.
Suddenly, this little monster changed right before my very eyes. I don't know if it was the vomiting or my blubbering that caused it, but his entire face softened. He un-wadded the rag, folded it in half and half again before he started to wipe the puke and tears from my face.
"I'll do anything you want! I'll give you money! Please, just don't hit me again."
"Sssshhhhh," he hushed me and then said, "I don't want your money. I just want you to tell me about sexy stuff you've done." He continued to wipe my face, "That's all I want."
I nodded again, "All right! I'll do it! I'll tell you everything! I promise I'll tell you everything!"
He then stood up quickly, and walked to the kitchen. I heard the sounds of drawers opening and closing. He returned holding a steak knife in his right hand.
I was honestly scared for my life, but I needn't have been. He only used it to cut the tape that held my right arm to the floor and the broom handle. However, that was the only part of me he freed. He then placed the knife in my hand, turned and picked up his gun before saying, "I'll be back tomorrow after school for my first story. I expect you to be on your front porch waiting for me."
He started for the door but stopped, "And if you get to thinking about tricking me or backing out of our deal. Just remember, I got your movies and you'll never find them even if you kill me."
With that, he left me to continue to free myself. Once I had cut myself free and with much of the tape still stuck to my skin, I crawled up the stairs on hands and knees. I made it to the bathroom, dropped myself into the tub and turned on just the cold water. That is where I stayed for the remainder of the day and night. I eventually passed out but before doing so, I began to imagine extremely violent ways to get even with that little beast.
The following morning, it was all I could do to pull myself from the tub. I was half frozen and so sore that the simplest acts, like standing, were new adventures in pain. Soaking for so many hours did two things, it shrank my balls and dick to baby-size, and it waterlogged both the tape and my flesh, making the removal only slightly less painful. As it was, when I was done, the only part of me that had hair left was my crotch, back and stomach. I was beyond livid!
I dressed and then went to clean up the mess in the living room before heading to work. As I walked into the room I spotted something lying on the floor beside the broken coffee table. It was orange peelings. I'm not quite sure why the orange peels bothered me more than the broken table but they did. I was so upset that once everything was cleaned up, instead of bothering to cook myself breakfast, I opted for a bit of fast-food as I drove up to Waterford for `work'.
When I showed up, Miss Pricilla Grace, who almost never was on set, was there to greet me. Pricilla was the woman who'd recruited me. She was there because she was concerned when I hadn't showed up the previous day, nor called. It isn't like me to miss `work' and everyone was understandably concerned. She instinctively knew something was wrong. Thankfully, during the long drive to Waterford, I had time to come up with a good excuse.
"Yeah, I had a run in with a few drunken red-necks. Just a little sore but," and trying to insert some humor into a tense moment, I took a line from sports and said, "Put me in Coach, I'm ready to play!"
However, when I started to undress, the bruising somehow seemed even worse than it had earlier! Miss Pricilla Grace was outraged that someone would do something like that to me. She insisted on taking me to the hospital. I'm glad she did because they gave me some damn good lotion that when rubbed onto my aching balls, completely numbed them! Miss Pricilla Grace had also insisted that I not `work' that day; however, when we returned from the hospital about noon, the director had other ideas.
He was young, early twenties, pimple faced, and overly excited as he pointed to two HUGE models.
"We're going to do a gay bashing video," he announced with immeasurable pride.
"Uh," I whined with concern.
Miss Pricilla Grace tried to object but I spoke first.
"I cannot feel a thing!" I said while holding up the small tube of miracle pain cream. "I'm not even sure I could get it up."
"Don't worry! You won't have to lift a finger!" He said with a smirk as he looked down at the crotch of my dress pants, and then mentally examined the rest of me!"
Miss Pricilla Grace eyed me questioningly.
I grimaced, shrugged and said to her, "The show must go on!"
The director, who had stepped away for a moment, came back and handed me a Styrofoam cup with what I thought was just coffee. It's no secret that at `work' I am a coffee junkie. Thus I didn't think twice about the offering. As I sipped at the very hot beverage, the director started to explain how his improvised scenes would play out. I'd never seen him, or any director be so excited about making a porno! Here is how he explained it.
"You are out walking with your dog while wearing a `Gay Pride' T-shirt. Hector and Bruno," he motioned to the two poster boys for steroids, "see you and decide to beat the shit out of you!"
"Where'd you get a dog?" Miss Pricilla Grace asked and I nearly spit out my coffee.
The director just announced that he was going to have two goons thrash me and her only concern was where the dog came from? It was too funny!
The director turned this way and that before shouting, "Where the hell is the dog?"
Someone from behind us shouted, "She's doing her business!"
"They aren't really going to hit me right?" I asked about the two very large men who, to be honest, scared the hell out of me, although oddly enough, not as much as Seth had scared me.
The director rolled his eyes at me and didn't even slow down.
"Then Jeremy," the director paused as he drew our attention to the cute red-headed Opie-looking teenager sitting on a wooden stool. At first glance, Jeremy didn't look more than fourteen or fifteen. He wasn't tall, but his uncommon thinness made him appear taller than he really was with long lanky thin legs with a tight ass perched on the stool, very thin at the waist and torso as well. His arms seemed long for the rest of his frame and ended at nice sized hands which gripped his phone as two long thumbs typed out messages. Jeremy wasn't paying any attention to any of us because he was completely engrossed in his cell phone.
"He'll help you inside and proceed to undress you in an attempt to tend to your injuries; then..."
I interrupted the director, "Ah I see."
"Are you sure you are up to this?" Miss Pricilla Grace asked with what I took to be genuine concern.
I looked over to Jeremy, then to Miss Pricilla Grace, then to the director who was smiling queerly and finally looked back down to my coffee.
"Oh!" I said with flat-surprise, "You've put something in the coffee to help me perform haven't you."
The director stopped smiling, "Of course not! What kind of person do you think I am? Do you really think I would drug you just to make a skin-flick?"
I gave him a look that sarcastically asked, "Do boys love to jack it?"
He smiled as he said, "But that isn't such a bad idea!" and produced a small white and blue pill bottle from his left front pant pocket.
I laughed it off and decided not to take him up on the offer.
Looking to Miss Pricilla Grace, I answered her question, "As long as Buff and Buffer over there aren't too rough, and Opie doesn't get too zealous..." I paused to take a deep breath before rubbing my palms together and adding, "I think I can do this."
"Opie?" the director questioned.
Miss Pricilla Grace sighed hard because she had got the reference which the young director had completely missed.
The director decided that he didn't want to know as he turned his ball cap backward and called out, "Everyone to their positions! Bring up the lights! Let's get this show on the road!" he then turned back and almost as an afterthought said to me, "It has been my experience that most gay-bashers do what they do because secretively they really want to get fucked!" and with that golden bit of knowledge, he returned his attention to directing.
Those few words got into my head like a weed, taking root and growing wildly.
Rough? Hell, Jeremy couldn't have been sweeter with me. Once it was time for him to enter the scene, he set down his phone and was all business. And what would have normally been several takes, was shot in just three.
There was the first scene which was shot with the muscle-twins, who made the beating look real for the camera, but never once did either of them sway from their professionalism. Then there was the second scene where Jeremy came to my rescue after my attackers ran off. He then walked me into `my house'.
For the third and final scene, it was all shot in a single, long take. I think the director realized that something magic was transpiring and had he tried to utter `CUT' the magic would have been lost. Three cameras recorded what happened next.
The door opened as Jeremy and I walked into the bedroom set where he helped me to lie upon the bed after he pulled down the covers. With the tenderness and care of a true lover, he proceeded to remove my clothing. He started with the `Gay Pride' shirt which was ripped down the center after the fake fight. Now I will add that most performers of Jeremy's age have a thing about kissing. They will fuck and be fucked until the cows come home, but don't ask them to engage in any lip or tongue action. Jeremy had none of those issues. On the contrary; as kissers go, Jeremy is a major leaguer! I will also add that, when it came to the sex part, Jeremy was the star!
As he removed my ripped up white shirt, Jeremy made eye contact with me. His fingers traced a line from my chest to my belt buckle. He then slid down the bed to remove my shoes. It was only then that I realized I only had one shoe on. Apparently, during the fake fight with the goons, I had lost a shoe and hadn't even realized it until that moment with Jeremy.
He unlaced my remaining shoe, all the while, keeping eye contact with me. My socks came off next in one of the most seductive performances I have ever witnessed. Never before could I have ever conceived the removing of socks to be a sexual act in itself.
When he had removed my foot coverings, he moved back up to sit beside me as he began to tenderly, and lovingly remove my belt and pants. However, when my pants came down and he saw the bruising, he became emotional. It was the only moment that he hesitated and I thought for a second he was going to break character and look to the Director or a camera. But he didn't.
He remained professionally in character as he leaned down and ever so gently placed his lips against my own. He then pulled away and said softly, "I am so sorry they did this to you."
He had spoken so softly I doubt the boom mic had picked up on it. If it did, it would surely make the final cut as it was absolutely perfect. When he said it, I got the idea he wasn't talking about Hector and Bruno, but the `Red-Necks' I said had beat me up yesterday.
Jeremy kissed me again, only this time it wasn't a quick, soft kiss but a long, passionate kiss. And despite my injuries and the numbing cream, my cock began to respond to his actions.
I did nothing but lay there as Jeremy lovingly kissed me. I didn't even put my arms around him. As porno performances go, I would have been fired had it been under any other circumstances.
I honestly felt a loss when his tongue left my mouth and his lips departed my own. But I didn't miss them long as that same tongue and those same lips began to lick and kiss every inch of my body chest and stomach. He went lower and lower until his lips reached my pubes, then he stopped, looked up at me as if to ask if it was ok to continue.
Now that my dick was hard and my heart was racing, I was again feeling some pain but nothing too severe. I gave him an ever so subtle nod of my chin and that was all the assurance he needed as he began to deposit angelic kisses upon my bruised testicles. Never once did he cause me any pain. On the contrary, his young, soft lips were like Vicodin, sucking the pain away with each tender kiss. He was so good that he didn't just get me hard, he got me raging hard!
When his tongue ran up my bruised shaft, a shiver ran though my body and I let out an audible gasp as a sort of feverish wave came over me. My entire body began to tremble as I watched his mouth engulf my pulsating cock.
The kid was experienced for sure, because he took my entire shaft into his mouth and down his throat the first time. His nose buried into my pubes and remained there for what felt like an eternity but was more like twenty-seconds. He then pulled back to get a fresh lungful of air before really getting to work. I later learned it was just over eight minutes from the moment he dove onto my cock until I filled his stomach with my semen. But for me, it felt like an eternity of complete bliss. The boy had `mad skills', that's for sure!
I've also learned that, when editing these sorts of videos, they will use all sorts of tricks to make the `sex' seem to go on for much, much longer than ever happens in real life.
I've performed in countless videos with scores of men, boys, girls and women but none did to me what Jeremy had done. And that goes for my former wife too. It was as though my entire body was stuck in a perpetual orgasm as I wriggled and writhed upon that bed.
It wasn't until it was over that I was told I was making sounds like a possessed squirrel the whole time.
When I finally climaxed, I couldn't help but to reach up, grab Jeremy's head and hold it in place as my back arched, lifting my ass off the bed in the process. My balls pumped my juices up and out of my cock, shooting cum down his throat seven times before I fell to the bed, releasing his head.
Now there is a rule in the porn industry; unless it's agreed upon beforehand, you NEVER cum inside one of the performers. However, with Jeremy I hadn't even considered this rule and he didn't ever give any indication that I shouldn't. Hell, he was the one in the driver's seat the whole time!
As soon as I was spent, Jeremy slowly allowed my cock to slide out of his mouth and then moved up to lovingly and passionately kissed my lips, allowing me to taste my own cum. He then pulled away and softly laid his head upon my chest as he stroked my stomach. I think we both had forgotten that we were performing for an audience of eight.
A few seconds later, the director shouted, "AND CUT! THAT WAS BEAUTIFUL!"
Jeremy lifted his head from my stomach and looked up at me. I could see in his eyes that he was disappointed that it was over. However, he lifted himself off the bed, pulled on a robe and walked back to his cell phone.
Despite only performing in a single video, Miss Pricilla Grace still paid me like I had stared in four. Even when I tried to tell her she didn't have to do that, she still insisted I accept what would've been a full day's pay before sending me home. She also gave me a couple days off to recover. Since it was a Friday, I decided to take her up on the offer and take the weekend off.
Oh, and I told her where I live now. That was something I hadn't done up to that point, but for some reason, I felt like I could trust Miss Pricilla Grace now.
As I was climbing into my car, Miss Pricilla Grace walked up to me.
"Hold up a moment." She said to me.
I let out a small but audible cry of fright.
"Oh I am sorry! I didn't mean to startle you. Of course your nerves must be nearly frayed." She said with a concerned yet supportive smile.
"Sorry, I guess I am a bit..." I started to say.
"Oh please don't apologize. I just wanted to give you this." She said while handing me a brown paper sack.
I took the sack thinking it might be food or medicine or perhaps some kind of drug to help me deal with the pain. The weight of it caught me off guard and I nearly dropped it.
I started to ask what it was but she told me before I could get the first word out.
"It's a gun."
"A GUN!" I said too loudly.
She didn't bother to look around but smiled in a way to tell me to keep my voice down.
"Why are you giving me? I mean, I don't want a...! I don't even know how to...! No, you have got to take this...!" I tried to hand it back but she waved me off as though trying to shoo a rodent away.
"You needn't worry. It is legally mine if that's what you are concerned about." She told me.
"Yes. Wait, what? No! No! Not at all. Listen I..." I didn't get to finish.
She stepped closer, pushing the bag against my chest with one hand while cupping my cheek with her other. "Don't get the wrong idea sweetheart. I like you and all, but I'm only protecting my investment. So take the damn gun, get in your car and stay safe!"
She softly dragged her finger nails across my cheek and down to my chin before turning and walking away, leaving me holding the brown paper bag with the gun inside. After unlocking my car, I quickly stuffed the gun into the glove box and promptly forgot about it; I'm not sure why that was; maybe my brain pushed it out of my head.
I'd only returned home from `work' about ten minutes before Seth had begun banging on my front screen door. It took me a minute to get to the door but when I did I found him standing there looking in through the screen with the queerest expression upon his face. He was wearing no shirt, a pair of cut-off blue jeans and dirty athletic shoes but no socks. I could also see his bicycle down on the sidewalk, leaning against the railing of my front steps.
He was tossing an orange up and catching it again as he said, "Didn't really think you'd answer the door."
Without opening the screen I said, "Listen, I just got in. I haven't had my dinner so why don't you wait out there and I'll be out shortly."
He chuckled and pulled open the screen, "I don't fucking think so!"
A warm breeze gently blew into the house as I leaned against the door jamb, pulled a handkerchief from my back pocket and began to wipe the sweat from my brow. Having him inside the house was giving me flashbacks to the beating he'd given me. My nerves were showing for sure and my brain was telling my body to shove the kid back outside and lock the door, but I didn't.
With a self-amused chuckle he stepped around me and walked right in like he owned the place.
"What's for dinner?" he asked with a yawn.
I turned and saw him walking toward the kitchen.
"Oh please, do come in!" I mocked.
Getting right to business he asked, "So what are you gonna tell me today?"
"Listen, can we first talk about yesterday?" I asked in the nicest possible way.
"Fuck yesterday and fuck you! Get to the story or else!" he said in an almost offhanded sort of way while trying to concentrate on pealing his orange. As a matter of fact he almost seemed bored and unafraid.
I was taken aback by his demeanor. To be honest, I had prepared myself for another attack or the opposite where he felt super guilty. I wasn't ready for this. I had been thinking about that very subject all the way back home. Well not only that subject. I was also giving a lot of thought as to what I was going to do about Seth. I'd come up with the idea to talk about the first time I discovered masturbation. As to what I'd do about Seth in the future, the only thing I could come up with was the line from one of the Godfather films; I don't remember which `Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.'
With a sigh of surrender from me and no further prodding from the boy, I spent the next few minutes talking about the age that boys usually first masturbated to the point of ejaculation as well as the age I first I did it.
As I spoke I watched Seth climb up and sit himself down on the kitchen island where he commenced to eating his now pealed orange.
As I was thinking aloud and trying to calculate my own age when I first produced sperm I also had the silent thought that I might as well go ahead and make my dinner.
"My first time was on a weekend, a Sunday to be exact, at home and right after arriving home from church. I'd listened to my older cousins' talk about it so much that my curiosity got the better of me. I found myself alone, locked in the downstairs bathroom of my family home. I had wrapped toilet paper around my stiff penis in an attempt to mimic a girl's vagina. I was using my fingertips to rub it up and down and realizing that the toilet paper wasn't helping I pulled it off. Desperate to increase the good feelings I gripped my small hard penis in my right hand and began to stroke. I didn't know what I was doing, only that it felt and seemed right. And then I felt a tingle in my balls and the buildup of pressure that lead to the big explosion. From that moment on I was hooked and couldn't get enough. I spent the next few weeks masturbating like crazy and basking in the awesome feelings. I even learned that if I waited a bit longer between sessions that I could and would shoot more and farther."
Without realizing I had done so, I stopped talking as my mind began to think about Seth. The question came to mind as to whether he could cum yet or not. I concluded that he probably could. It was when I began to imagine the soft small fingers of Seth in that context that it dawned on me that I'd stopped talking for a couple minutes. Abandoning my dinner on the stove, I quickly turned my head but not my body since I didn't want to let the boy see the tent in my pants. I hadn't needed to be concerned with that because Seth hadn't heard a word of what I had said. Apparently without my realizing it, He'd moved to the kitchen table and now had his head lying on the table. He was sound asleep.
I'd be lying if I said I didn't think of copping a feel while the boy slept. It also crossed my mind to take the opportunity to enact a bit of revenge. I didn't actually do either, but I sure thought about it real hard! In the end I tossed his orange peels he'd left on the kitchen island into the trash and then walked my dinner to the living room where I ate alone in silence.
I finished eating and after depositing my plate in the sink and making sure Seth was still asleep, I decided to go change my clothes and apply more cream to my balls.
When I returned from my bedroom, I was shocked to see that Seth was gone. I hadn't heard the screen door close either and began to panic that the boy was wandering around my home. I searched every room and even the basement but he was nowhere to be found.
As I walked out the front door I noticed Seth's bicycle was still leaning against the front steps railing. That only reinforced my fears that the little beast was still inside my home. I made a second search of the house and this time I checked the attic and my locked office as well. Not finding the boy I went out and checked the garage and behind it just to be sure the boy was truly gone.
I waited for a couple hours for him to return for his bike, the whole time both fearful he was hiding in my home and fearing he'd run off to tell everyone my secrets. After two hours I couldn't take it anymore and decided I'd attempt to return the bike; that way I would know for sure the boy was not hiding somewhere inside. Before I left, I locked the house up just in case.
I didn't go far before I came upon someone I had met the other day while digging up my front bushes.
"Uh, George wasn't it?" I asked as the elderly man extended his hand to me.
"Good memory you got there Prescott!" the old guy said and I didn't bother to correct him. After all, it was my full first name, but how he knew that I didn't know. I am quite sure that aside from Seth, I haven't told a soul my real name, mostly because I don't care for it all that much. I much more prefer Scott.
"Heard you took a fall but you don't look none the worst if you did." George said and I could tell he was fishing for a story.
I ran my hands through my hair sheepishly, "You heard about that huh? Well, wasn't such a big deal."
"Oh it will be!" George laughed loud, "Give it a few days and it'll be a big story with little truth left to it."
I felt a sick feeling in my stomach again.
"I was afraid of that." I mumbled.
George then noticed the bicycle and asked about it.
"Uh, by chance you wouldn't happen to know a boy by the name of Seth?" I asked.
I suddenly realized that it might not sound right if I told him the boy left it in my yard. People tend to jump to conclusions to easily.
Kid ran off with his friends and left this behind. He was kind enough to help me when I had a dizzy spell the other day and I wanted to return the favor.
I saw the gleam in George's eye almost instantly. He had got a whiff of more to the story and was hungry for it. I did some quick word dancing to try to stem the tide.
"Oh it wasn't anything. I think I got a bit overheated in the sun is all. I really am fine now."
George looked disappointed that there wasn't more to it which he could run off and tell someone else about. Although, I was sure, given time, that too would get all blown out of context.
"I have to learn to keep my mouth shut." I thought to myself.
"Seth?" George pulled a hanky from his front pants pocket and wiped a drip of sweat from the end of his nose. "Seth Jonagain? Now there's a little criminal in the making! A trip to the woodshed would do that one a lot of good!"
"Oh?" I asked, intrigued at the chance to learn more about the boy.
"Got caught stealing when he was just six years old. `Fraid he's a lost cause."
I took that with a grain of salt. I mean, given the way little things snow ball into epic stories here, I imagine Seth probably didn't even know what he did was wrong at the time. Hell, I doubt there is a person on the planet that can claim they never stole a pack of gum or a piece of candy at one time or another in their childhood.
"You don't say?" I replied back. "Well, you wouldn't know where his home is would you? I'd really like to return his bike to him."
"Oh sure," George pointed North and said, "He'll probably be off getting into trouble somewhere; but his mother should be home. Lovely woman that Martha Jonagain! Makes a mean Peach Cobbler for the July Festival every year."
"You don't say? Uh, so their house is that way?" I pointed north as well in hopes of getting him back on track and telling me where the boy called home.
"Yeah, three blocks up to the red house with the big elm out front."
George stuffed his hanky back into his pants pocket as he continued speaking, "Lovely woman that Martha Jonagain. Makes a mean Peach Cobbler for the July..."
"Uh, yes you were saying so. I'll sure look forward to that come July."
I could see in Georges face that there was another story coming and I circumvented it by saying, "Thank you for your help. I best get going. I'm sure the boy is missing his bike."
"Oh, yes right. Three blocks north to the red house with the big Elm tree. You can't miss it."
"Three blocks. Red House. Big Elm! Got it!" I said, shook his hand and walked away before George could think of something else to say.
He called after me with a smile, a chuckle and what I am sure he meant as a jovial pointing finger, "You take care of yourself and stay off that roof!" and punctuated it with an exaggerated wink.
I waved back, "Sure will! And thanks again!"
As it turned out, George was a little off on the directions. Oh it was three blocks up, but he seemed to not realize which street we were on at the time. Thankfully he was right about the big Elm tree which was large enough that I could see it even through it was two blocks further east.
At least George got the house color right. Barn Red, with white trim. In one of the windows, I saw a fairly attractive lady who was the spitting image of Seth only with much longer hair and makeup. For a split second, an image of Seth in makeup and a dress flashed in my head and I couldn't help but feel a warm chuckle at the mental-image.
The lady spotted me and waived like she had known me for years. I waved back and then motioned to the bicycle. She grimaced, then smiled nervously and vanished from the window. A brief moment later she appeared at the open front door.
"Hello ma'am, I'm..." I started to say.
"Scott McGrouter. Oh sure golly yeah I heard aboutcha and don'tcha know I heard about ya diving off your roof there. My goodness gracious sure am glad you didn't break anything! Wouldn't that of been just terrible?"
Her heavy accent derailed my train of thought momentarily, but then I got the train back on the tracks.
"Ah yeah. Well it wasn't as noteworthy as everyone seems to be making it out to be." I said feeling a measure of embarrassment.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence between us, but thankfully she broke it by saying, "Thanks for bringing Seth's bike back by golly that sure was nice of ya. Don't ya know, that darn boy leaves it all over town by golly. If I have told him once, you can betcha I've told him a thousand times to bring it back, but does he listen? Well you know he doesn't."
Martha was talking a mile a minute without taking a breath. I couldn't get a single word in edgewise. I'd never in my life encountered someone like her. She was like a walking volcano of energy and with that accent, well it was like listening to a banjo... you cannot help but feel happy listening to a banjo. I found myself smiling too much.
"MR. MCGROUTER!" someone shrieked from up the road a ways.
Martha stopped talking and we both looked in the direction of the alarmed sounded voice.
Running toward us at an incredible speed was Seth and at least eight or nine other boys, every one of them shirtless, shoeless and wearing shorts except for one boy who was wearing grass stained Kakis. The boys came to a quick stop in front of us. It was apparent they had been swimming somewhere because they reeked of dirty river water and were all dripping wet.
Seth seemed upset to find me standing in front of his house. He also appeared to be a bit scared, or maybe that was my imagination.
After verbally chastising her son for leaving his bike again, Martha sent the group of nearly-naked boys off to play but kept her son at her side. I think Seth caught me eyeing his friends a little too long.
"What do ya say to Mr. McGrouter for bringing your bicycle back now huh?" Martha asked Seth.
"Thank you Mr. McGrouter." Seth said begrudgingly while not willing to make eye contact with either of us.
I remember contemplating how much the two of them looked alike but didn't sound anything alike. Martha had a very mottled Dakota accent; the boy had no accent at all.
"It was no problem; and besides it gave me the opportunity to get out and see more of the neighborhood."
"Oh yeah don'tcha know you been spending so much time making that place of yours look so gosh darn nice ya haven't been out much at all. It's not healthy for a fine fella like yourself to be all alone so much. How do ya expect to find a nice pretty lady when you're inside all the time?"
As Seth's mother went on, I made eye contact with the boy and in that brief moment, I read in his eyes what he so badly wanted to say. "Mom, he doesn't like ladies! He fucks boys!"
Seth's mother continued, "Oh and don'tcha know, there's this lovely girl that you would just love now ya know. And don'tcha know, she's a handy little lady herself."
"Uh, thank you, but I am recently divorced and I'm just not ready to..."
"Divorced ya say? Well isn't that just the saddest thing ever? But I understand how them things can happen now, and when you are ready, you just let me know. And by golly don'tcha know, if you ever need some help, I'm sure Seth here would be happy to help ya, wouldn'tcha Seth? Oh sure ya know ya would. Anytime at all you just give out a shout and we'll send him running your way, by golly!"
"Well thank you very much and to be honest, I have been thinking along those very lines myself." That Godfather line kept playing over and over in my head at this point.
"Oh well don'tcha know you could get hurt and no one would know." Martha said and I wondered if she was reading my mind.
"Exactly what I was thinking." I agreed.
"Oh my, well you betcha we don't want that!"
I gave Seth a glance and he was firing daggers at me as he mother held him in front of herself so that he couldn't get away.
I said to Seth, "I'd be willing to pay you for your time; that is if you wouldn't mind coming over and keeping me company. And if something were to happen like before," I rubbed the back of my head, "You could call or run for help."
"Oh now isn't that the nicest thing;" She squatted down and gave her son's hips a squeeze, "wasn't your daddy just telling you this morning by golly that he wanted you to get an after school job."
"What do you think Seth? Would you mind keeping an eye on me?"
"How much?" Seth asked with a lot of attitude and Martha gave him a pretty hard swat on the back side.
"Now don'tcha know better than to be rude like that."
"It's alright." I chuckled, "I remember how it was to be his age. How does twenty dollars a week sound?"
"Ohhhh," Martha moaned in disapproval and for an instant I expected her to suggest I pay the boy more but she didn't, "Don'tcha know five dollars a week would be much better."
"Five dollars? Is that all?" Seth exclaimed which earned him another swat.
"And if you help me out with some of my projects I'll give you a bit more? Sound like a deal?" I asked Seth.
He looked to his mother almost pleadingly.
"Well don'tcha know your daddy's gonna be so proud of ya."
"Why don't you come by after school tomorrow and you can help me finish the last section of fence behind the garage?" I suggested to the boy.
I extended my hand for Seth to shake and when he did, I could feel his contempt for me in his grip.
"Tomorrow is Saturday." Seth said with more than a hint of know-it-all-ism to his tone.
"Oh? So it is! I forgot it was Friday too!" I said honestly while embarrassedly scratching the side of my head.
"In that case, why don't you come over right after breakfast? We'll get an early start and then you can still have time to go play and enjoy your day?" I suggest to him while still gripping his hand.
"Fine, I guess so." Seth shouted as he jerked his hand from mine, jumped on his bike and raced away before his mother could stop him.
I spoke a little more with Martha, gave her my house number and thanked her for allowing Seth to help me out before I started walking home again.
After I walked away I started to worry I might have pushed the boy too far. That night I would get no sleep at all as I was up worrying the whole night that Seth would `OUT' me to his parents, or worst still, the whole town.
I ended up in a very dark place inside my head that night. I don't remember exactly when, but I'd recalled the gun Miss Pricilla Grace had given me and I went to retrieve it. I found myself sitting at the kitchen table staring at the gun in my hands and thinking something no one should ever think.
The following morning, I was a train wreck. About 4:30 in the morning I found myself sitting at the kitchen table, fully dressed and waiting for the cops to come pounding on my front door. That is where I stayed until Seth arrived.
At about twenty to eight Seth pounded on the front door so hard that I jumped, banging my legs against the underside of the table and spilling the large vase of flowers. The vase rolled off the table before I could catch it and smashed on the floor.
Seth beat on the door again and then I heard a low voice call out, "Open up it's the police!"
I nearly shit myself!
I quickly picked up the gun which had at some point been moved to the kitchen island (I do not remember doing that either) and stuffed it into a kitchen drawer where it has remained to this day. Trying to rub my aching legs as I walked, I staggered, kicking shards of glass in the process, and opened the front door fully expecting to see two or more police officers standing there. Instead I found Seth with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.
"Scared ya!" he laughed.
I grabbed the door frame to support myself as I took a breath of air into my lungs and blew it out along with a full night of stress.
After a moment Seth asked, "You going to invite me in or what?"
I pondered him for a moment before I swung the screen door open and stood aside so that he could enter.
"What broke?" he asked, "I heard something break."
"A vase." I said as I shut the front door and started for the kitchen.
"Why are you so dressed up? I thought we were going to finish the fence?"
I stopped when I saw all the broken glass and remembering that Seth is always barefoot on the weekends. I turned to tell him to watch out for glass but then saw that he was wearing old gym shoes.
"There is a dust pan and broom in the utility closet by the basement door. I'm sure you remember where that is?"
"Yep!" he said, ignoring the implication I had intended.
He returned with pan and broom in hand and quickly began helping me clean up the mess.
Then he surprised me yet again, "Sorry, hope it wasn't valuable."
I eyed him momentarily before stating, "Just a cheap vase from a thrift store."
"You alright? You don't look so good." He said as he continued to sweep up the shards of glass as I held the dust pan in place for him.
"Didn't sleep last night." I confessed.
"Oh you were making porn movies?" He asked.
"NO I WASN'T MAKING PORN MOVIES!" I snapped back.
"Sheesh! I was only joking! Don't bite my head off!" Seth exclaimed.
"I-I'm sorry. I'm a bit out of sorts today." I explained as I stood up and dumped the dust pan into the trash, "Tell you what. I'll pay you for today but how about we not work today?"
"Sounds good to me! But the way I see it, you owe me two stories. One for yesterday and one for today!"
"I told you a story yesterday!" I cried out.
"No you didn't!" he argued.
"It's not my fault if you slept though it! By the way, why did you fall asleep? Weren't you scared I'd try to kill you or..."
"Or rape me?" he quickly finished.
I eyed him wearily.
"I had been up all night playing video games online and I didn't get to sleep at school none neither."
"That is understandable." I said although what I was really thinking about was whether the boy was really up playing games or if his conscious was keeping him up.
"So what is the first story you are going to tell me today?" he asked.
"Not first, ONLY." I stated with finality.
A darkness came across the boy's face seconds before the following words came out of his mouth like bile oozing from inside him, "Fine, then maybe I will just tell my mom you fucked me here in the kitchen today!"
I was so shocked by this declaration that I dropped the metal dust pan which clattered to the floor.
"Yeah! I'll tell her you ripped off my pants, threw me over that," he pointed to the kitchen island, "and shoved your dick in my ass!"
I wanted to lash out and strangle the life out of him and there was no doubt he could read that in my burning red eyes.
He smiled smugly, bent over to pick up the dustpan, showing me his ass in the process, and then returned it and the broom back to the utility closet.
When he came back, he found me in the exact same spot, I hadn't moved due to shock and anger.
"So what's it going to be? He asked, "You going to tell me two stories today? Or do I tell mom you raped me?"
Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Or maybe it was the fact that the kid finally pushed me beyond my breaking point. Whatever it was, I finally was pushed beyond what I could endure. I began to weep. Slowly at first followed by big crocodile tears.
"Holy fuck are you crying?" He asked with a sneer of joy.
It took me a minute to stop sobbing and when I did I stood up and without saying a single word I walked through the house and out the back door. Half a moment later the boy followed me out.
He followed me to the garage where he didn't speak at first, but as he watched me gather my tools, he couldn't help himself, "I thought you said we weren't going to work today."
I looked to him but didn't answer as I buckled my tool-belt around my hips, slid my hammer into place and reached for a box of nails to fill one of the pouches.
I walked out of the garage, past the boy and around the garage without paying him a single bit of attention.
"Excuse me! Do you think I won't tell?" he asked.
I continued to ignore him.
Behind the garage I commenced to work to finish up the fence in silence while Seth just sat leaned against the garage.
I was working on the last section and struggling with a warped fence board when Seth asked, "Can I help?"
I held out my hammer and a single nail to him, "While I push the board into place, I want you to put a nail right there." I pointed to the spot as well.
We continued like that as we nailed each board into place. A few times, I had to walk back around to the front of the garage to cut a fence board and when I did, Seth followed me like a loyal puppy.
Just as we were about to finish, a slight rain began to fall. Seth said something about us quitting, but I told him I wanted to get done before the real rain began.
"We only have to nail the bottoms of these few boards and then pick up the tools." I said as I walked past him to get more nails.
With that, the young teenager leaned over and swung the hammer at a nail that was halfway in already. I didn't see this, but I did hear him miss the nail.
There was a fleshy thud followed by a wail, "My foot!"
He let the hammer drop to the ground as he fell backward, hard on the grass grabbing his ankle and moaning.
I hurried to his side.
"OUCH!" He cried out even though I hadn't even touched him.
"Let me see." I demanded.
I knelt down beside the lad and removed his shoe from his slender foot into my strong callused hands.
Seth arched his back, "Ow! Ow! Ow! That hurt!"
"I bet it did."
With thumb and fingers I explored the boy's foot.
"Bones seem to be Okay." I commented, "Where did you hit it?"
"On the side. Right there... OUCH!"
The boy was sitting on the damp grass leaning back on his elbows; head arched back on account of the pain accentuated his graceful long neck.
"Let me rub it a little. I don't think you've broken anything."
And so there I was, massaging the foot of a nearly naked eleven-year-old who only two days ago had duct taped me to the floor and beat me with a fireplace poker. And less than an hour ago had threatened to cry rape against me.
"You have beautiful feet, Seth. Does it still hurt?"
Seth breathed in through his teeth, "Yeah, not as bad though."
I moved from massaging the foot, to gripping the boy's ankle.
"I can get my hand around your ankle." Then I ran my hand, in a tight grip, up the boy's calf. "You have strong calves. Do you play a lot of sport?"
He took another sucking breathe, "Yeah. At school I do."
"I can tell. Strong thighs too." With my left hand I kept the boy's foot elevated while my right hand stoked up onto his thigh and inside the leg-opening of his shorts.
It was still only raining slightly, however darker clouds had moved in, blocking out the sun and making the late morning seem nearly like dusk in the space of a couple minutes. It was dark. The floodlight from the garage came on automatically and lit the boy's wet face, moistened by rain and tears. Seth was looking at me intently. The boy's leg was tense. I was just inches away from the boy's immature scrotum. Time seemed to hang suspended.
"Seth, you... are... very.... you are very beautiful." I said, taking my hand away, to rub the boy's ankle again.
"I'm not a stupid girl." Seth objected with knitted brow and a pouty lip.
"No, I know that. But boys can be beautiful. Perhaps I should use the word handsome. How does your foot feel?"
"It is better now." He stated breathily.
I felt a surge of panic.
"We should probably pack up. The tools are getting wet and I think the rain is about to really start falling any second. Do you think you can stand?"
I felt mortified. I had come within inches of wrapping my fingers around the boy's soft prick. Worse, I had thought better of it, and yet still almost dropped myself in it.
Seth was eleven but he was smarter than any eleven-year-old I had ever met; old enough to know how to blackmail someone. If showing up at his house yesterday hadn't crossed the line, for sure what I just did to the boy not only crossed the line but left it miles behind. All I had done was to give the boy more ammunition to use against me.
In that instant something dawned on me. Since Seth learned my deep dark secret I have done everything I could to get rid of the boy. What I needed to do was befriend him, take him under my wing, make him care for me and feel guilty for blackmailing me.
As we walked back towards the house with Seth limping slightly I put my hand on the boy's shoulder. "Seth, God only knows why, but I really like you. I hope we can be friends."
He stopped and looked up at me with the most profoundly dumfounded expression.
"What?" I asked.
"You're weird!" he laughed so cutely.
I laughed too, "You're not the first person to tell me that."
I wish I could say that Seth and I made a connection but we didn't. Not even remotely.
He settled in a chair on the porch while I put away my tools in the garage. When I came back out, he was gone again. And like yesterday I ran all through the house making sure he wasn't inside.
Things between Seth and I fell into a routine and in a weird sort of way, I started to get used to the routine. We still continued to push each other right to the breaking point without actually breaking it, but that was part of the routine we'd established; that is until one very, very, very bad day.
I am a fun loving sort of guy and I like a joke as much as the next guy. However, I do believe there is a line between funny and just plain stupid. To a boy like Seth, it was a humorous practical joke; to a guy like me, it wasn't the slightest bit funny and was way, way, way over the line. What did he do? He climbed up on my roof to the chimney, breaking several slate tiles in the process, and dropped two small batteries down the chimney. I had been in the cellar putting away my tools at the time, but when I heard something thumping around upstairs I quickly raced up to find out what it was.
First off, I know it was odd to have the fireplace going during the summer. (Don't address the reader directly!) I hadn't had a chance to use it since I'd had all that work done on the chimney and I wanted to see how well it worked. I mean, isn't it better to find out if there was still a problem during the warm months than to discover it in the middle of winter when no one in their right mind wants to be on the roof?
The batteries made some noise when they were dropped but nothing too loud. However, it was enough to arouse my curiosity and get me to try to figure out where the strange sound came from. After looking around and not finding the source of the noise, I walked into the kitchen to wash up. Since I had taken out the two walls that separated the kitchen, dining room and living room, I can now see the fireplace from anywhere in those areas. But to be honest I wasn't really looking at it. I was pleasantly ignorant to the two small batteries that were quickly heating up inside the fire; and, when batteries get dropped into a fire, they explode, sounding like a gun going off!
One of the biggest reasons I moved away from my ex-wife was that not once, or twice, but three different times, she shot at me with a 22 pistol. Thankfully, she shoots even worse than she cooks because the third and last time she shot at me she missed me but grazed our oldest daughters left hip. Getting shot at once will make you jumpy around loud bangs. Getting shot at on three different occasions will not only make you jumpy, it will also make you super paranoid!
I had just begun to dry my hands with a paper towel when the first battery exploded. I dropped to the kitchen floor fast and hard, banging my elbow on the end of the granite countertop. There was just enough time between the first explosion and the second for me to get up on my knees to look over the counter to see if I could see who was shooting at me. When the second battery exploded flight mode took over and I found myself up and running before I knew I had even moved.
Had I not seen Seth at the far end of the porch doubled over with laughter as I burst through the screen door, I probably would have leapt over the railing and kept going. I knew the second I saw him that he was to blame but I didn't yet know it was just batteries in the fireplace. I figured it was a prank now and that he had tossed firecrackers into the house or something like that.
"I'm gonna bust your ass!" I shouted and jumped clean over one of the porch chairs toward the boy.
I nearly caught him before his brain had a chance to tell his feet to move. He didn't stop laughing as he made a fast jump out of my reach and took off running with me hot on his tail. That little beast was fast too. We made a full lap around the house; ducked into the open garage door, around my car and back out before he then ran into the back door of my house. That was his big mistake, or so I thought. Instead of chasing him in through the garage, I did an about face and headed around the house.
I made it to the porch, threw open the screen door and bolted inside, thinking I was going to head the little brat off. However, Seth was smarter than I'd given him credit for. Instead of running through the house and out the door, he had barricaded himself in my home office.
Before I had gone to the basement to work, I had been in my office surfing the internet.
As I stood there, banging on the door, I remembered I had left my computer on earlier and what was worse, I had been looking at a recent photo set I'd been a part of. In them, I'd been engaged in sexual acts with a boy not too much older than Seth.
In a panic, fearful that the boy would see what was on the computer screen, I reached over the door for a spare key I kept up there. It was a habit I had gotten into. When one of my daughters was only four years old, she had locked herself in the bathroom for nearly three hours. She ended up being just fine but her mother was a nervous wreck until I got home and got the door unlocked.
Unfortunately, by the time I got the door to my office unlocked and open, Seth had not only seen what was on the computer, he had emailed them to himself.
I burst into the room to find Seth, standing there with one hand up as though to stop me, while his left hand was pointing to the screen which had a picture of none other than me, kissing a fourteen year old red-headed boy. Seth's eyes were bulging like eggs emerging from a chicken and he did have the most evil grin stretched across his face.
I wanted to smack that grin off him but I couldn't move at all. I was frozen in place, my eyes locked on him, his eyes locked on the computer screen. He had even more ammunition against me all because I had gotten careless yet again. That is when I noticed the tent in the front of his shorts; actually except for the jersey shorts he was wearing, he had nothing else on. No shirt and no shoes.
It was at that precise moment that the words came back to me, "It has been my experience that most gay-bashers do what they do because secretively they really want to get fucked!"
I don't remember thinking about it; I only remember reaching out to turn off the computer monitor. When I did, Seth surprised me by leaning over and kissing me on the cheek. Before I could react, he ducked down and shot between my legs. He didn't get far this time though.
I caught up to him again in the kitchen where he was trying to keep the kitchen island between the two of us. There was a glint of moisture in his eyes and on his lips as he giggled like mad, still thinking we were playing. I, on the other hand, was filled with a plethora of emotions. For one thing, I was angry for once again forgetting to lock that door. For another thing, I was totally embarrassed. Finally, I had this burning in my loins. Yeah that's right, chasing after that nearly naked boy had me all worked up. When I finally did get my hands on him, I guess you can say I wasn't thinking with the right head.
I faked left; he fell for it and went right. I caught him by the arm and discovered that the gray jersey shorts he had been wearing seconds before were now gone.
Struggling to get away from me was this beautifully tanned nude form with a throbbing three inch erection which was bouncing around wildly. I couldn't keep my eyes off of it
A giggling, "Please" escaped his throat and before I knew what I was doing, I had descended on him like a beast.
Lips to lips, tongues wrestling for dominance. I wrapped my arms around him like an anaconda. His fingers pulled at my hair. I lifted him from the floor with one arm, cleared the center kitchen island with the sweep of my other arm and only then did I break our lip lock.
In one quick motion, I spun him around, bent him in half and laid him upon the counter. His stomach and chest were pinned to the cool granite while his legs hung and his toes dangling several inches from the floor. With one hand, I held him down while with the other, I pulled down my shorts and underwear, freeing my now fully engorged ram rod.
Seth tried to lift his head to look around but I pushed him back down aggressively. He got the message not to move again. I spat into my hand, wiped my spittle on his tightly clinched rose bud. His entire body twitched; his butt cheeks clenched and grabbed hold of my hand. Pulling my hand free I spat on it again and began to moisten my cock.
"Spread your cheeks with your hands!" I commanded and he obeyed.
I wanted to just fuck away and open his hole with the sheer force of my hard cock. But I knew this boy was still a virgin and I'd probably rip him if I went after it like a prison rape scene. Instead, I spit directly on his rosebud and shoved one finger inside him. Seth cried out in pain, but I didn't stop. He had asked for this and I was intent on giving it to him.
He was not totally open yet, but I didn't want to open him with my fingers. I wanted him to feel a measure of pain when my cock entered him, so he would know I was taking his cherry.
I spat on my cock and rubbed it in once more. I was going to fuck him raw so I could breed him like the bitch he was about to become. I always like to mark my territory like animals do, and this kid would have my seed in him to remember the day he gave his ass like a bitch for the first time. With no warning and no sensitivity, I pulled my single finger from his hole, positioned my cock and firmly grabbed hold of his hips. I waited for him to take a breath and then shoved it inside with all my strength. The boy let out a whale that rattled the slate tiles on the roof. It was the cry of a boy who'd lost the last of his boyhood and had been thrust into manhood.
Seth had stopped holding his butt cheeks open, but it didn't matter now, I was all in and he was going to get fucked. His fists were pounding on the granite, his head was flailing back and forth as he cried out in pain. Before the pain ebbed and the wonderful feelings took over, I began to slide my cock in and out, slowly at first so he could recover somewhat, but I knew he still felt much of the pain. Nonetheless, I guess that's what you get when you are fucked like a bitch. I'm sure the kid wouldn't want it any other way and he should have known he wouldn't get any compassion from me... not after everything he'd put me through.
He never once told me to stop, even when it was apparent that it was painful, which makes me think he is going to be my bitch for the rest of his life. Then again, as I think back on it, he may have been in too much pain to be able to form words.
When his cries began to sound more like moans, I picked up the pace. He didn't have to tell me, I knew he wanted it harder and I started to drive into him like I was drilling for oil. To get better leverage, I reached up, grabbed his shoulders and forced him to arch his back, which in turn forced my cock deeper inside of him. There was a loud slapping sound every time my crotch and balls hit his ass.
I remember thinking, "This kid isn't going to be able to walk when I am done with him, and he won't be doing any sitting for a few days either. His ass is going to be in a bad shape, but that's what you get for being a bitch boy.
There was something primal that had taken over inside of me. I was fucking him harder and harder until I sensed my climax building. I felt so electrified as all of my rage and emotions seemed to accumulate inside my dick.
"You've probably been fantasizing about this since you found my stash." I was surprised to hear those words come out of me.
I pushed the deepest I could and unloaded a torrent of hot, thick juice inside of him that completely filled his ass and bowels. I was so spent that all I could do was push myself off him. My curiosity about whether Seth could cum or not was answered when I discovered a thin, watery trail of cum running down the back of the kitchen island. I guess he came somewhere during the fucking.
Once I had caught my breath, I slipped an arm under his belly and lifted him like a sack of mulch. He didn't fight me or anything as I carried his nude body through the house and up to my bedroom.
All through this, my cock hadn't completely softened so once I dropped him face first on the bed, I was able to reinsert my cock into his now well lubricated ass. I didn't care about crushing or smothering the boy at all as I lowered my entire weight upon him, and for the second time, I bread him like a little bitch. As I had my way with him, the only sounds he made were muffled moans of pleasure.
It took so much longer for me to come the second time that when I did, it was no less incredible. Once I was finished, I was completely spent and totally exhausted. I fell asleep with Seth beneath me and my cock in his ass.
I only slept on top of him for maybe ten minutes, but after a double fucking and ten minutes under me, it's understandable that the eleven-year-old boy was defeated.
I pushed myself up, my deflated cock slid from his ass and with one hand resting on the small of his back, both to hold me up and to keep him in place I said breathlessly, "You are going to get dressed and then you are going to take me to where you have stashed my stuff."
He mumbled out a barely audible, "Okay" and sniffled.
Without bothering to clean either of us up, I walked the nude boy down to the kitchen so that he could retrieve his shorts which he had left lying on the floor on the far side of the island. I'd also left my pants lying on the floor there as well.
Before I let him dress, I pushed him into the corner by the refrigerator and ordered him not to move as I put on my pants. He didn't budge but watched intently as I tucked my cock into my pants and zipped them up. I took note of the fact that he didn't attempt to cover his nudity at all. I also noticed that as he watched me dress, his small dick began to stiffen again.
My cum continued to leak from his ass and trickled down his legs as he leaned over to put on his shorts. This entire time, I kept hold of the back of his neck so that he couldn't run off.
With his shorts in place, I pushed him against the wall, pinning him there by the throat. I placed my face less than an inch from his as I said, "You have anything to say to me?"
He shook his head `no' as his eyes welled up with tears.
"Really? Nothing at all?" I asked again.
He shook his head a second time.
"You will once I am finished with you! I guarantee you that!" I threatened.
"Where's the stuff you took from me?" I asked.
Without hesitation, he answered, "In my clubhouse in the woods behind my school."
"Good! You are taking me there now!" I told him.
He simply nodded his agreement.
I walked him to my garage and made him get into the front seat of my car via the driver's side door. I hadn't yet opened the garage door yet so we still had privacy. I started to lean across to buckle the boy in, but when I did, I saw something familiar in his eyes. It was that same evil, manipulative gleam he'd get and in that instant, I knew I had to once again break him.
I grabbed his jaw, pulled his face toward my own, and kissed him deeply. While we kissed, I unfastened my pants again and pulled my quickly thickening cock back out using just my one free hand.
Breaking the kiss, I grabbed the boy by the back of the head and pushed his face toward my cock.
"It was in my butt!" he objected, but I only had to squeeze the back of his neck a little harder to get him to open his mouth and allow my cock in.
After only a minute of holding him down and him really giving my cock a workout, I wanted to see what the boy would do if I let go of him. To my surprise, he didn't stop but instead, really got into his job. He was licking and sucking on my shaft like he'd done it before. Well, a few times, his teeth scraped my dick but I didn't mind too much. For a first timer of his age, he was doing great! I've known pros who will complain of jaw pain after only a few minutes of blowing someone, but Seth never once complained through the entire twenty-five minutes that he was on my cock. When I felt like I was ready to cum, I almost told him so, but again, I wanted to see what he would do, so I just let it happen. My balls tightened and my shaft engorged, stretching Seth's mouth to the max as I thrust my hips up to get my cock near the back of his throat just as I started to cum.
Seth choked for a moment, but then started to swallow as he reached out and took hold of my shaft with his right hand, milking each blast from me.
When I was done cumming and Seth had every drop licked up, he sat himself up and looked me in the eye with the biggest smile on his face.
I pondered his expression for a moment before I ordered, "Sit back and put on your seatbelt."
He obeyed without delay.
With him navigating, we drove to his school but I didn't feel good about it. I was worried someone would see me with a boy at the school and get the wrong idea, so again I decided to take a risk and see what the boy would do.
I parked on the street and told him, "Now go get everything, and I mean everything, and bring it back here. You've got three minutes!"
I saw in his eyes what I took as an objection but again those weed-like words came to me, "...secretively they really want to get fucked!" I threatened him, "If you take even one second longer than three minutes I will never fuck you again."
And then I had another idea.
"Take your shorts off." I commanded.
His eyes got wide and I suppose he thought I was going to blow him before he went but that wasn't my idea.
He obeyed and after removing his seatbelt, he wiggled out of his shorts. He sat there in my car naked and his penis rock hard again.
I took his shorts from him and said, "You will get these back when you bring me my stuff."
He began to look very concerned, "I can't go out there naked!"
"You can and will!" I said and looked at my watch, "You've got three minutes starting NOW!"
The passenger door flew open and Seth leapt, naked from my car and ran straight for the back of the school. In a matter of seconds he was out of sight.
I'll add that those were the longest 172-seconds of my life. That's right; it took Seth less than three minutes to return.
When I saw him running back toward the car, with a cardboard box in his arms, my heart leapt within my chest. In that moment, I knew that I'd broken Seth and he was now mine to re-train; and re-train him I would!
~ THE END ~
If you are enjoying How to Tame an Orange then please let me know. You can email me at email@example.com
And be sure to check out my other books...
Simon's Journal – Ever read someone's secret diary? Well here is your chance to read the private journal of a young boy named Simon David Leonard. Simon is just a mild American boy...that is until someone threatens his friends or family, then watch out! He has a secret problem which to him feels all consuming. When he decided to go in search for others who share the same secret problem, he sets off a series of events that will change his life, and the lives of those he encounters, forever. As you lose yourself within the pages of his four volume journal, you will laugh, cry, scream, and cheer your way through adventures that will take you halfway around the world and back again.
Goodbye Normal Jeans – Meet Nevada, the middle child of a country families seven children. Nevada, prematurely born, lives the life of a simple country boy. His biggest concerns in life are dealing with his physical inadequacies related to his early birth, and making sure the pigs don't get loose. All of that changes when it is discovered that Nevada is exceptionally intelligent and is awarded a scholarship to a prestigious school for gifted young minds. There he must learn new ways of coping with his bodies limitations while trying to cope with life back on the farm.
Alvin Ever After – A four part novel series chronicling the life changing events of a young California surfer boy named Alvin who has been uprooted and transplanted clear across the country to Maine?
In the first novel you will journey with Alvin and his parents as they travel east, encountering many adventures and people along their way.
The second novel tells of Alvin's new life in Maine as he and his parents struggle to make a new life for themselves.
The third novel tells the tale of a terrible tragedy which rocks Alvin and his family at its core. Friends and loved ones will flock to Alvin and his family's side as everyone struggles to come to grips.
The final novel in the series, sees Alvin making a life changing decision and sets out on a new adventure across the country as he attempts to return to California.
Levi – Long before the divorce of his parents, Levi has been living with a secret, but when Phil, one of his friends, discovers his secret a series of events are set in action.
And be sure to keep a watchful eye for `Close Encounters' coming soon!
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