GAY MALE; 'LIFE WITH JOEY: #7: A Page Has Turned (Finch's Story)' {Bud_83@hotmail.com}
(MM, B^B, incest, bondage) [ 7 | ? ]

Date: 8/11-30/2001

WARNING: This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to individuals, living or dead, is purely coincidencidental. Do not read this story if you are offended by man-to-man sex, abusive/offensive language. Do not read if you are underage or it is prohibited according to the laws governing the geographical location wherein you dwell. This episode will focus on a memory of incest, bondage, sexual initiation, and drug abuse. The character is an adult remembering his youth, the beginnings of sexual awakening, and the ambiguity and anxiety caused by teenaged male-male relationships. There are degrading words and both adult and erotic situations. There is unsafe sex practiced, and it is not adviced to attempt this in real life. Stories are fun because there are no real ramifications . . . Life isn't as forgiving. Even if they are fictitious, all participants are consenting (although they begin reluctant). This is in the same vein as the others episodes, but it follows my plot notes. I did explain that there would be times when I would switch genres and tone. This is another one of them. (You see, I attempt to change this header as often as possible. Also, I apologize for any errors, I try to catch them all, but I hate editing.) Enjoy!

Copyright 2001 by Chet English. Permission is granted to Nifty Archives to post one copy. No part may be copied, reproduced, republished, or reposted without written permission from the uthor.

LIFE WITH JOEY

#7: A PAGE HAS TURNED (Finch's Story)

WHAT WENT ON BEFORE . . . I could tell that Finch was enjoying my discomfiture. His grin widened and he suddenly burst out laughing at me. I couldn't help but join in. He wrapped his arms around me and wrestled me about as we laughed. Finally, he pulled me to the cot and there were no more objections, no more recriminations, no more inhibitions as we began exploring one another in earnest.

The sex I had in the past twenty-four hours was merely that, sex. It had been rough and raw and dispassionate. There had been few real connections, few moments of shared intimacy involved. It was sex. What was happening now was more…. Finch was tender, kind, reciprocating. I was seeing none of the cruelty I had been subjected to earlier. Now, it was as if I were with an entirely different man.

We caressed, held hands, kissed, and nibbled. There was heat and power and all of the pent up emotions of thirteen years roiling around inside us. At times one or both of us would break into quiet laughter as we explored one another. Our joy was that overwhelming.

Odd how it had come about; I found myself replaying the events repeatedly. I didn’t see it coming any time I went through it. Each time it was as if I had hit a splice in the tape where a crucial moment had been lost on the cutting room floor. When had the scene changed? I found myself thinking a page has turned. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was lost or missing. I couldn’t help but feel as if a stroke of doom loomed somewhere in the near-distance. Where was the trap? The ever-present danger that accompanied Finch and his seductive grin was looming, lurking hidden to my senses. Yet, I wasn’t going to be totally caught off guard, I warned myself. Not this time…. This time….

Where was my head? I drew myself back to the wonder beside me. He had his hands at the small of my back, rubbing gently in tight circles. His fingers, strong and undeniably present, coaxed soft moans from me. I put my mouth to his and began to slowly bite his lower lip. I teased it with my tongue. I sucked it gently, pulling it out then releasing it back. I rolled on top of him and used my superior position to milk his lips. I would draw up away from him and he would attempt to chase me until his neck strained. I moved lower and allowed our lips to meet briefly. I held my open mouth over his. The delicious feel of the absence of our flesh tantalized. The teasing caused our appetites to build beyond the point of ravenous. We continued to ignore our raging erections. The grip of our torturous denial held sway and we weren’t ready to end its influence.

Finch suddenly pulled away from my lips when I pulled up again. This time, he wanted to torture me and dove directly for my right nipple. I couldn’t suppress the sudden inhalation of breath as his teeth caught the tip of my erect nipple and gently pulled it away from my chest.

His lips quickly gripped the rest of my sensitive areola and kneaded it between them. Finch began to run the tip of his tongue over the trapped nubbin. I groaned in teased pleasure. He certainly knows how to play a boy’s body to get the right notes out of it. He chuckled between his teeth at my response. He was enjoying putting my body through its paces. I put my lips down on the crown of his head and kisses him to show my appreciation. He responded by upping the pace of his suckling.

“Ughhhhnnn! Finch, …man, …you… you’ve gotta… let up….” I pleaded.

He chuckled, evilly, again, and continued his assault on my nipple. I tried to pull away from his advance, but he held me tightly between his sucking mouth and securely wrapped arms. I arched my back as far as I could, but it didn’t break the contact. Where I had thought I was in the superior position, he had shown me I was mistaken. He could control me from any posture our bodies took.

“Fucking wrestlers!” I thought to myself, but I had to admit that I was enjoying his domination as much as his love-making.

I hadn't been paying any attention to our lower bodies as I struggled against Finch. I realized I had done it to myself again when I felt the wet heat of his erection poised at my anus again. I had splayed my legs when I had arched my back. My legs were on either side of his body, and he had me in position, ready to be entered by him again. I thought to myself, "He'll not get inside me so easily this time. Two can play at the teasing game." Of course, I failed to factor in that he had plans of his own. Just as I pulled to get myself on my knees and in a better position to resist him for a little while longer, he pulled himself away from me. As a result, I was straddling his thighs and our pulsing dicks, red with pent-up desire, bobbing and weaving at each other like to boxers in a ring.

Thrown off guard, I must have looked dumber than the I stunned expression I thought I had because Finch laughed at me. A little perturbed and put off, I switched my astonishment to disgruntlment until he turned over quickly beneath me. This was not something I had even once foreseen in any scenario between us. He folded his arms beneath his head and rested it there, turning it to the right. He still had a smile on his lips as he said, "Alrighty then! Have at me, Joey!"

I could have been knocked over by a stray beam of light at that moment. I had never even concidered that Finch would want me to fuck him. I looked from his profile, down his strong, wide back to his narrow hips and bulbous butt just below my bouncing cock. He released a heavy sigh and settled himself in.

When I didn't move, he opened his eyes and spun his head awkwardly back to look at me. "What's the matter?"

I shook my head from side to side, unable to speak. I could not remove my staring eyes from his glorious ass.

"Yo! Joey!" Finch said in a mock-Rambo voice.

It was just odd enough to break my trance.

"Huh?" I muttered.

"So, you going to do something back there, or am I going to have to spank you?" The mischievious gleam was back in his eye and his disarming smile grew wider. We shook as he chuckled beneath me.

I gathered my half-witted mind and focused myself on the task. TASK? Fuck that! This was PURE EUPHORIA!

I began by slowly massaging his shoulders. After the extended time in ropes and brief sleeping period, I knew Finch's muscles were as tense as my own. He let out a long, sensuous sigh as I worked my fingers into his skin. I love it when the guy I'm with is vocal and Finch set every little nerve within me tingling when he sighed. I don't know what it was about his sex-noises, but they set me into hyper-mode. It seemed to me as if we were bonded on some bio-chemical, genetic level to the point that we completely complemented one another—a double-helixed yin-yang.

My desire was only hightened by his reaction to my massage. I felt my pre-cum leaking and dripping down to spot Finch's sparsely haired ass. He gently ground his hips beneath me. The friction between our thighs created a marvelous new sensation. I had moved to long strokes up and down his back and along his sides to his hips. He was sculpted marble, Michelangelo's lost masterpiece. He was mine! I had refrained from touching his buttocks for long minutes and found myself unable to resist anymore. My hands kneaded his butt-cheeks. I gripped the stoney heated flesh, made slippery with my juice. My fingers slowly traced up and down his crack, I enjoyed the feel of his hair as I gently dusted it aside. I teased him by allowing my fingers to graze the flesh, not penetrate the cleft there. This elicited several groans from him as well as attempts to catch my fingers between his buttocks with his udulations. Of course, he was slightly successful in his attempts at capturing my fingers, but he had relinquished control and I wasn't about to go easy on him just yet. He has teased me and bullied me and now it was my turn to be in control and I was planning on milking it for every ounce of enjoyment I could.

Eventually, however, I found my own impatience was my ruin. I wanted despirately to experience Finch from the inside. I knew how he felt against me and inside me, but now it was my turn to feel his internal heat. The fact that he was giving himself to me was not lost on me either. I didn't allow myself to return to haunted thoughts of suspicion or doom. I eased a finger into Finch, eliciting a moan of pleasure from each of us. I slowly incerted and removed my digit, occationally twisting it around. Soon I added a second finger and felt Finch truly give in to me. His lusty groans and grunts continued to excite me. I leaned down and nibbled his ear, travelled further and kissed his lips, all the while, I kept up my pace in his ass.

Both panting, Finch pulled from our kiss and husked, "C'mon, Joey, it's time; I need you. Do me."

It was simple, honest and direct. I removed my fingers, replaced my lips, and guided my penis to his waiting butthole.

I slid in without any trouble. Finch released his breath into me as his tongue probed my mouth. I went soft and hot and rigid and cold in one moment when I finally came to rest against him. I was all the way inside. I lay completely still, revelling in the velvety heat surrounding my manhood. When I realized I hadn't moved and my weight was pressing down, I began a retreat. I felt the pleasurable pull of Finch's passage and sphincter. The ring of his anus squeezing the taut shaft of my dick, teasing my already tortured nerves ever closer to my sexual apex.

Finch allowed me to grunt and groan and pulsate and drive above him. I bit about his neck and shoulders and ears. I playfully nipped his jaw and lips. I began to alternate my thrusts, varying them from side to side and in speed and depth. I wasn't going to let him get used to any set pattern in my lunges.

The culminating effects were quickly approaching when Finch pulled another of his moves. I had pulled nearly out of him as a prelude to deep penetration. He quickly thrust his hips deeply into the cot and dislodged my cock. He sort of pushed up and flipped himself at the same time beneath me. Of course, this was ill timed, and he managed to tag my testicles in the process. I let out a yelp of surprise more than out of pain, though there was some of that too.

Finch's face, now facing mine, was suddenly frozen with concern and maybe horror. I'm sure he thought he had hurt me more than he had.

"Are you alright!? Did I hurt you!?" he interjected.

"I'm okay, you surprised me is all," I lied.

"You're sure!? It sounded more like you were in pain than surprised."

"I'm fine. Let's stop the talk and get back to the luuuuv!" I can be a goof at times. A little levity might get his mind back in the gutter!

Without a word, Finch pulled another wrestling move and we were suddenly face to face, side by side as the cot creaked a loud protest at our studden jolting. He pulled me close and kissed me and then flipped me onto my back in another deft move. I figured he wanted to fuck me so I began to bend my knees and put them behind his back. Finch had other plans, however, and pushed my knees back down. Instead, he pushed himself a few inches above me, straining to keep our kiss, and attempted to straddle me. Reluctantly releasing the kiss, he moved my hands up behind my head and held them there with one hand. Moving his other hand down between us, he manipulated my stiff prick until it stood perpendicular to my body, raised himself up and then impaled himself on me once again. He released my hands but clearly intended for me to leave them where they were. I obeyed his silent inplication and he began a slow rocking above me. He established eye contact and his once-evil grin shown marvelously down upon me. I soaked it all in. I began to close my eyes briefly, but quickly opened them when he pinched both of my tits and twisted them. Clearly, I was not to lose eye contact with him again!

Finch writhed above me. We were both moaning to the luxuriating feeling created by our union. Plato may have believed that humans were once hermaphroditic units split by the gods so that we weren't so complete and happy. Male and female left to search for its "missing half" to find completeness and happiness again. Although a higly romantic concept, finding myself beneath Finch and surrounded by him, I don't buy that for a minute! I don't think there could ever be anyone else who could complete me to the same depths that Finch meshed with me. In my head for so many years—frustration, desire, unexplored-passion, unadulterated lusty need, misguided perceptions, hurt, anger and more—it all boiled down into this moment in time when we joined. I let all of it slip away. I felt giddy with the loss and, yet, too solid at the same time; it was dizzying. Finch explored my torso with his rough fingertips—he paid attention to my sensitive nipples, and ticklish armpits and sides. He stroked my head, pulled me up for kisses then pushed me down for more exploitive tactility. His own erection went unacknowledged as he worked me toward orgasm from his position above. The eye contact was tortuously devious on his part. I began to see the quiver in his lips whenever he dropped to completely impale himself. I noticed the tremors in his grunts and groans of pleasure. I could tell when he was going to switch his plunges because he would quickly lick his upper lip with the tip of his tongue just before he switched tempo or direction. He would pull himself up and undulate his torso to cause a rippling effect along his body which would then extend to my penis. Suddenly, I could hold back no more and eyes wide open, I exploded into him when he dropped quickly, fully engulfing my dick in his ass and then squeezing his anus tight. The exquisite pressure triggered my orgasm. I found myself gasping for air as the first wave of my climax shook me. The wind had been knocked from me and I made a curious "whooof" sound. I sucked in air and began a low keening deep within my throat. Finch slowly moved upward, keeping his anus squeezed tight to milk my cock as he rose. He pulled up to where he was squatting above me with just the tip of my prick held inside of him. Then, he quickly licked his upper lip and began a series of quick, bouncing jabs. The result was that he was "ringing" my dick but with the applied pressure on that "magic inch" which is the section of a circumsized cock beginning just below the head and ending a the circumcision scar. This cause me to explosively exhale all air and groan in insidious pleasure. When I began to move my arms in an attempt to push him from the too sensitive motion, he lurched at me and held my arms, still managing to continue the offending heaven-sent rhythm. I held on to the only life-line he had left me, his eyes. His grin warned me that I could be safe or damned at any minute. I attempted to recoil into the cot, but our joined weight had stretched the springs to their maximum. I could not escape the onslaught. It seemed as if it lasted an eternity, but I know it could not have done so. Still, when he finally released me and pulled off of my cock, I was shaking with the intensity. He came to rest just beside me, holding me close to him, kissing my forehead, my cheeks, my lips and chin. I attempted to regain sentience.

The first thing I remember after regaining awareness was the hot pressure of his need against my thigh and hip. After all of that, Finch had not cum. He initiated a gentle kiss and I began to probe his mouth. My breathing had returned to normal, his was still raw and raspy. I was coated in a fine layer of sweat and began to feel a slight chill even though the air in the barn was warm. I gathered my strength and pushed Finch over on his back. Even though he was the better fit to control our motions, he allowed me to captain him. As I had been led to do, I pushed his arms behind his head. I made eye contact to insure that my unspoken command was equally understood as his had been. Assured that he would not move, I began.

I started with slight kisses and nips. Slowly, I worked my way down his body. I allowed myself a brief dalliance at each of his erogenous zones as I descended his body. I was rewarded with approving moans as I made my way ever-downward. I ignored his super-heated penis when I encountered it at his mid-torso. I allowed it to press against the side of my face as I toyed with his body. Again came the groans of approval and I sucked them up in the same manner I sucked at his salty skin. Using my tongue, I plumbed his navel. I nipped at it with my teeth. I lathed the treasure trail found there and follwed it to the root of his masculinity. I licked his shaved scrotum and then pulled one testicle into my mouth. Too large to fit both in my mouth, I switched between the two for untold minutes. Finally, I licked up the shaft with the broad flat of my tongue. I know that this is not the most exciting of possible techniques, but I wasn't interested in his release at that point. I wanted to taste and commit to memory his textures and smells. I was being selfish in a way, but it was mutually pleasureable. I wanted to prolong his exitement for a while yet.

When I reached the head, I began a series of light licks, twirling my tongue around the fleshy knob. His juices were pouring out of him and I took my time in collecting it all. I cleaned his torso and then the head and back and forth until I had cleaned him, leaving only my drying saliva. Without any warning, I engulfed his cock-head and sucked mercilessly. He let out a cry of pleasurable torment and his body jerked upward in an uncontrolled spasm. He eased back to the cot as I eased off the pressure of my sucking. I redirected my vision and pulled his penis away from his body with my mouth so I could look up at him. He caught my movement and grinned as we re-established our visual embrace. I broke it only when I began making "neck curls" in a bobbing motion. This rewarded me with more than his vocal support when his pre-cum began teeming anew.

I kept one hand on Finch's testicles as an early indicator of his orgasm. Whenever his testicles began to draw upward and inward, I would pull at them and apply a little pressure. Finch would grunt, but never indicated displeasure. In this manner, I forestalled his orgasm long enough to reposition and skewer myself upon him. Face to face once more, I allowed him the pleasure of setting the pace. He humped beneath me for a moment until I adjusted to his rhythm. Once established, I regained control and rode him to glory. It didn't take long to bring about his climax.

Sated we separated and lay next to one another. Finch noticed a jerry-rigged shower in a far corner of the barn which had been hidden from view before.

"Joey, isn't that a shower over there?" Finch drew my attention to the "shower".

It was nothing more than a hose with a spray nozzle attached to a spiggot inside the corner of the barn. The cement floor was slanted to allow the water to drain outside. The cement appeared to be a recent addtion, not original to the barn. Although I knew the water would be ice cold in moments, I was game to be rinsed. We took the top blanket over with us so we could dry off. Yes, it was damp from our love-making, but there were dry edges we could use. Our shower was brief but refreshing. We whooped at the offending cold, but laughed as much as jittered. We took turns drying the other's body, hung the blanket up to dry then went back to the cot. We reclined there, not bothering to dress. Finch put one arm behind his head and the other about my shoulders. I leaned my head on his chest and to the side to allow our flesh to connect as we lie there without speaking. Once again we drifted off to sleep.

I woke with a start as Finch screamed out in fright and sat jolt-upright in the cot.

"Finch!? What is it!? What's wrong!?" I had the cool, clarity of mind of the shockingly awakened.

He didn't say anything at first, he was shaking and sweat was again glistening on his body. I enwraped him in my arms and waited patiently for him to gain some composure before I asked him again what was wrong.

"It's nothing, just a nightmare. Sorry I woke you," Finch sort of mumbled.

"Hey, you're covered in sweat and that scream could have woke the dead! C'mon, Finch, give. You tell me your dream, I'll tell you mine," I cajoled like a kid.

He stared at me for a minute then shrugged. "If you laugh, I'll kill you." He said it so seriously, I felt a chill run up my spine.

"I promise I won't laugh, Finch. You can trust me . . . Word of honor! Remember, I was a boyscout." He broke with a grin at that and I thought it was cool.

"I was walking in the neighborhood and suddenly I was naked," he started, no preamble, just right to the story.

"So far sounds good," I chirped stupidly.

"Suddenly, I was being attacked by these giant dicks that had big mouths full of teeth like sharks, ya know?"

This time I just nodded, not trusting myself not to laugh at this image.

Once he started, it all came out like flood waters. "Well, I was running and running and you know how in your dreams you run, but you don't really move? It was like that. They were catching up with me, and I was scared. I got to my house, but nobody was home. I ran out to the garage, and just got inside when the giant dicks were all around. They circled the garage and then they started growing arms. They broke in and grabbed me. They tied me up and beat me and then started spitting on me, but it wasn't spit, it was cum. I was covered in cum. But they didn't stop spitting on me. They made me lick everything up, and then they forced me to open my mouth, and they would spit into it and make me drink it all . . . . Then . . . ," here he stopped a moment before he could continue. "Then they dragged me out into the woods. They started shooting heroin and shit, and they sort of shrunk and took turns fucking me. When they finished, they picked me up and tossed me into a ditch that was filled with dirty syringes . . . . That was when I woke up."

He was silent and looking at me oddly. I didn't know how to react or what to say. I guess I wasn't really very compassionate in my grilling him after his bad dream; but my heart was racing a bit from the jolt as well; and it had unnerved me to the point that I was too curious to let it drop.

He looked at me and I hugged him tighter in reassurance. He sighed and had a bit of a trapped look on his face.

"It . . . ," he stopped, unsure about how to proceed. "I was . . . ."

"Hey," I comforted and rubbed my hand up and down his arm, "it's all right, you're okay . . . ." I thought to myself, "That was patronizing!" But Finch didn't seem to notice. I said, "Well, I can't say that mine will top yours in the weird department, but I'll tell you mine if you want."

Finch just looked at me and shook his head "no", then he said, "Well, I guess I'll have to tell you this sooner or later, so I might as well get it over with . . . ."

Images of the trap being sprung jumped to my mind . . . . "Here it comes, the ever-present doom of Finch." It was unfair of me, and I know it, but the thought came just the same. I suppressed the thought and focused on Finch.

"I know you overheard Moses talking about how my brother Tucker used to fuck me."

I nodded and he continued.

"Well, I guess all of this stuff has brought back all of that. I just wasn't ready for it." Finch didn't realize he was being vague, but I decided to let him go at his own pace. Tucker was two years ahead of us in school and three years older than us. The brothers looked a lot alike, but Finch was finer built than Tucker, who was stockier and plainer, sexy, but not on Finch's level.

"You know how tough Tucker was, right?" I nodded and he continued, "Well, when Tucker was 15, he used to hang out with Danny and Tom, you remember, right?" Again, I nodded—in small towns, everybody knew just about everything about everybody else—well, I was about to find out some stuff I didn't know and was probably better off not knowing, but I knew Finch needed to tell me this and it was something important for us.

"You know what dope-heads they were?" he went on. "They got Tuck into that shit. When he got high, he got mean . . . ." Finch stopped and swallowed. "Anyway, one day our folks were gone, I don't remember where, but they were out. Tuck and Danny and Tom were out back in the garage getting fucked up, but I didn't know it. I went out there to get my bat and glove so I could play ball with some of the guys, ya know?" He gave a nervous chuckle and attempted a weak smile at me. I gave silent encouragement and squeezed his shoulder in support; he took a moment then went on. "I walked in and didn't see them in there, they had made this sort of fort up in the loft. I was in the back digging around in a lock-box for my glove when they sort of jumped me. At first, I thought they were going to beat me up and I told Tucker to let me go, then I threatened to tell Mom and Dad . . . that just got him madder and he pulled me up by the front of my shirt, I got scared and started to cry and he called me a pussy. Danny and Tom were laughing and started calling me a pussy too. Then Danny got the idea that since I was such a pussy I was probably a queer." Here, Finch stopped and coughed to cover up his emotions.

I was feeling like shit for sort of forcing the issue; and now he was opening up something dark to me; and I was unsure of what to do. I am all guts and glory when I don't know what I'm facing. Damn me for being so stupid.

Finch pulled away a little and began again, "Danny goes, 'Yeah, I'll bet he's queer! Let's get 'im to suck our dicks, man.' and Tom goes, 'Shit yeah! nothin' better 'n gettin' high 'n' gettin' blown, man.' I got really scared and looked at Tucker. He just looked at me then over at Danny and Tom and said, 'Yeah, he'll blow us. Get up in the loft, faggot!'"

He stopped once more and looked at me. I didn't know what else to do, so I leaned in and kissed his forehead and left my head against his. We sat like that for a little while and I gently stroked his arm. He cried briefly, then sucked it up and headed back into his story. This time, however, he didn't move away.

"They forced me up into the loft, Tucker had one of my arms behind my back and told me to keep quiet or he'd kill me. I was too scared to do anything, so I did what he said . . . . They . . . they told me to strip, so I did. They laughed at me, you know, for being sort of small and I don't know why, but they were laughing at my pubes. . . shit, man, I was 12!" He stopped here and took a moment. "I was 12 . . . who the fuck would do that to a kid?" He asked me the question.

This time, I held my tongue for a moment, then looked into his eyes and offered softly, "Another kid."

He looked back into my eyes, the unspoken accusation in my words. Again, I felt like shit, but I wouldn't break our gaze. He nodded this time. "Yeah," came his soft reply. "Anyway," he wiped his nose and went on, "I was naked and they got Tucker to make me suck his dick. He was mean at first, then sort of got nicer to me. I was crying, but my dick was hard . . . . I don't know why my dick was hard." He mused on that for a moment, looking like he expected me to have an anwer, but I didn't, of course. "So, they continue laughting at me and I'm sucking my brother's cock. He doesn't even warn me about his cum and shoots it in my mouth and makes me swallow it. Nobody was laughing after I swallowed Tuck's spunk. They were really turned on by it. I can admit now that I liked sucking cock and swallowing the cum and all, but right then I was mad and scared and confused. I didn't know what to think. I felt betrayed and turned on by my brother at the same time. I thought he would protect me, but he didn't. I know I was glad he hadn't hurt me. I thought I was done, so I started to get up and get my clothes when Tucker goes, 'Wha'cha doin' faggot? You still got some dicks to suck!' I looked at him, started crying, and he just punches me in the chest. I shut up and Danny comes over with his dick out of his zipper. It was jerking around and pointed at the roof. Tucker pushes me to my knees and I start sucking. I try to get away before he cums in my mouth; but Danny forces me down on him, and I have to take it anyway. Then Tom is there and I have to suck him too. When I'm done, I 'm crying and my dick is still hard, and they are standing over me and laughing then they started spitting on me and laughing—not because I had sucked their dicks, but more because I was crying. Danny and Tom leave and I'm there with Tucker. He gets down in my face and pulls my hair. 'Listen 'ere, fag! You tell anybody 'bout this 'n' yer fucked! You get me!? Now, get the fuck in the house and get cleaned up before Mom 'n' Dad get home.' I got my stuff on and ran to the house. I jumped in the tub and tried to scrub my skin off."

"The next weekend, Tucker made me go with him to Danny's house. They made me get naked, got me high and then had me suck their dicks again. It got so I liked sucking their cocks, but I hated them every minute otherwise. I was pretty fucked up, I guess. The idea of sucking them—being their slave—made me get a boner each time they made me strip in front of them. I got to the point where I liked sucking them. I'd offer to suck Tucker if a couple of days would pass and he hadn't had me do him. He'd always make me beg him for his cock, and I'd do it. He got off on making me ask him to let me suck him off—I got excited begging him, too; but another side of me wanted to have someone begging me the same way."

"Anyway, sometimes Tucker would make me do it while he taught me some wrestling moves. We'd wrestle until he'd get my head scissored between his legs. My face would somehow always end up in his crotch. Then, he'd have me chew on his cock through his underwear. We'd end up with him face-fucking me. I got so horny and hungry for cock that a few times I went over to Danny's or Tom's to suck them off. I don't know what I was thinking after a while, but I liked sucking cock."

"About four months later, I was with them up in the loft and they decided it was time to fuck me. I don't know where they heard about it, but it scared me so much I tried to fight them. That's when they started tying me up. I'd get naked and stoned and try to suck them. They'd tell me "no", jump on me, tie me up, get fucked up on shit, and fuck me. Sometimes, I'd cum too, but they never worried about me. They would finish with me and kick me out. I 'd go home and beat off if I hadn't cum. I even started liking being tied up. Tucker once had me tie him up and let me suck him that way. He wouldn't let me fuck him, though, and I was still afraid of him, so I didn't try even though he was pretty helpless."

"That's about when I met you in school and started fucking with your mind. I figured you were like me; and, if I could get you alone, I'd do to you what Tucker had done to me. Then, you would like it as much as I did and we could do it together. That never happened, though. I almost tried to get you to suck me that time you caught me stealing that jockstrap, but I chickened out. Later, I just kept fucking with you out of habit 'cause of the guys and my image. I'm sorry about that. I guess I put you through as much hell as I was going through."

I didn't interupt him, but I shook my head "no". I hoped he would understand that while he had made my life tougher, I now realized it was nothing in comparison to what he was going through. I was enraged by the thought of Tucker, an older brother, taking advantage of his younger brother. It was wrong. It didn't matter that Finch enjoyed the sex and eventually grew to offer himself to them. The fact of the matter was that Finch should never have been there in the first place.

Finch paused after I shook my head. When I didn't say anything, he continued, "Anyway, after a while, they would invite some dude they owed money for their drugs to come over and fuck me. I'd have to do whatever he said. He's the one who started me on cocaine. I'd let him use me and he'd give me drugs. The drugs made the questions go away, so I'd do anybody who would give me a score. I started pushing for a while. You probably heard the rumors about our reunion and Moses. He caught me after it was all over and brought me out here. I was strung out and he got the whole story, just like you have. He blackmailed me into being his fuck-slave for a while until I got my shit together and put an end to it. The funny thing about it is if Moses had asked me for sex, I'd have said yes. Isn't that fucked up?" Finch snorted bitterly and ended his story there. "Okay, so there you have it! The whole fucking story, Joey. Now what? You . . . ." He started to say something, but stopped. He began to cry. I held on to him, feeling his pain, sharing a part of it that was actually my history, too. Sorry that I couldn't do more for him, I let him cry.

I sat there while Finch cried, holding him, thinking everything over. Knowing this about Finch made many more things clear for me. Especially why he had been so cruel to me. Although it made sense, I found myself wondering what this would mean down the road. The first rule I learned in college is never get involved with anyone with more problems than you have. Here I was with Finch in my arms, a bundle of raw emotion. I've learned his deep, dark secret and found that it was the root source for my issues. Does that constitute someone with more issues or the same issues? Ambiguity is a bitch. In the end, I decided it had been too long in the making to run away from it now. I am going to stick with Finch and see where we end up. After all, admitting you have a problem is the first step toward facing that problem. Finch had managed to break his drug addiction, maybe together we could get through our pasts and make something good and lasting come from all of this pain and darkness.

Well, for what it is worth, that is #7. Being back in the working grind, the episodes will come less frequently, but they will continue, I promise. Thanks for all of the email and encouragement so far.