This story may occasionally include explicit depictions of sexual acts between consenting adult males.  If you are underage or it is illegal to view this for any reason, consider yourself warned.  If you find this material offensive, please leave.


This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to people, living or dead, is entire a coincidence. As the author, I retain all rights to this story, and it cannot be reproduced or published without explicit consent from me.  This work is copyright © 2015 by Steven Wells.


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Jeffery Comes Home



"I have a couple of questions for you," Phillip began.


"Shoot!" I told him.


"Have you thought about us becoming foster parents in case an emergency arises?" Phillip quietly asked.


"Yes," I answered. "How about you?"


"Absolutely," Phillip answered. "I think we might need to be married first."


"You are probably right, but we might be able to qualify before we are married," I said to Phillip. "I should check with someone who knows about the process."


"I think you should," Phillip encouraged me. "I think you need to be prepared for an emergency."


"What is your other question?" I asked.


"What about the furniture we saw in the gallery at the Mart?" Phillip asked.


"It was beautiful," I told him. "But, it seems expensive. Can we really afford that stuff? I don't make tons of money as a minister and never will. I do have a little money tucked away from my grandmother's estate, but that is about it!"


"We can find a way if we want it, I think," Phillip added. "But, do we want to sink all of the money into furniture when we can get something contemporary, but not original designer pieces, for less."


"That might be a wise idea," I agreed. "But, we still have Sam's parents stuff. How can we get them to let us pay for what we want?"


"Remember what Sam said," Phillip reminded me. "'Don't fight them! You will not win!'"


"I am certain he knows his parents well," I agreed.


Chapter 06: Trevor


I was in my office on a Tuesday several weeks after our trip to Chicago when I heard a knock on my door. I saw a gangly kid about 15 or 16. His blond scraggly hair was tussled in disarray.


"Reverend LeBlanc?" The kid asked.


"Yes," I answered.


"May I speak with you, sir?" The kid quietly asked.


"Of course," I told him. "Come in and have a seat."


"Reverend LeBlanc," the kid began. "One of my teachers, Mr. Potts, suggested I speak with you."


"Please call me Jeffery," I told the kid. "What's your name?"


"Oh! Sorry!" the kid blushed a little. "My name is Trevor Franklin."


"Okay, Trevor," I went on. "What can I help you with?"


"I need to talk with someone about why I am different than the other guys," Trevor quietly said to me.


"That's why am here," I told Trevor. "Anything you say will be kept confidential. It will be just between the two of us."


"Thank you," Trevor responded. He paused before he continued. "I don't know what to do because I... I... like boys more than girls... One boy in particular... I'm afraid to tell anyone."


"And, you are afraid why?" I asked Trevor.


"I am afraid that everyone will hate me," Trevor said in almost a whisper.


"Not everyone will hate you, Trevor," I told him. "I certainly don't hate you."


"Why don't you hate me?" Trevor asked me.


As he asked the last question, I could see a tear roll down his cheek. "Let me tell you a story, Trevor... There was a boy just about your age who thought he was different from the other kids he went to school with. He went to the same high school you are attending as a matter of fact. The boy had the same feelings you are having... He liked boys. He, too, was afraid to tell anyone because he didn't know how other people would react to his announcement. He couldn't even bring himself to tell his parents. He was racked with guilt... Finally, the pressure to keep his feelings secrete was too much for him to cope with... He found a bunch of pain killers in his parents' medicine cabinet... He went into his bedroom and swallowed the entire bottle of pain killers. His father came home early from work and found him passed out with the empty bottle of pills on the side of the bed... The boy's father rushed him to the hospital... His stomach was pumped out, and he nearly died from the overdose of pain killers... But, he made it through the night. When he woke up the next morning, he saw his mother and father sitting beside his bed. His parents asked the boy why he swallowed the pain killers... The boy finally admitted to his parents that he was gay... But, you know what, Trevor? They didn't care. They didn't hate him because he was gay... They told him they still loved him very much... That was the first step in his journey to accept that he was gay... He didn't tell a lot of his classmates that he was gay, but he did confide in some of his closest friends... He found out that it didn't matter to any of them... His friends didn't hate him because he was gay. The boy graduated from high school and went to college... He took a job in San Francisco working with gay youth, homeless youth, drug addicted youth, and mentally challenged youth. He came back to this town after working in San Francisco for a number of years. And, he met another guy, who was also gay, and they started making a life together... They bought a house together... Their neighbors didn't hate them because they were gay. Of course, some people didn't accept them as a couple, but they were able to create a very nice life together... So, you see Trevor, being gay doesn't automatically mean that everyone hates you."


"Jeffery," Trevor quietly said as he wiped up the tears. "Was the boy in your story you?"


"Yes, Trevor," I said to him. "I was the boy in the story. And, I've dedicated my life to helping people just like you. They may be gay. They may be addicted to drugs. They may have been abused. They may have mental challenges. But, I want to help people know that everyone is important to someone. If I had succeeded in my attempt to end my life, I wouldn't be here to help you—or others like you who need a shoulder to lean on. I hope you will visit the website. The "It Gets Better Project" was launched by Dan Savage some years ago with the goal of providing information and hope to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgenered, and other bullied teens by letting them know that it gets better. And, that, just like you, you aren't alone. Does any of this make sense to you Trevor?"


"Yes," Trevor replied. "Thank you for your time. I need to be getting home. My mom will be expecting me soon."


"Okay," I told Trevor. "Can I ask you two more questions before you leave here today?"


"Sure," Trevor added.


"Have you ever thought of taking you own life?" I asked.


"No," Trevor answered.


"Will you also promise me that you will talk to me whenever you have a need to just talk?" I asked my second question."


"Yes sir!" Trevor said.


I handed him my card. "Call me any time. Come and see me if you'd like. Write me an e-mail. Just please, please stay in touch with me, okay?"


"Yes," Trevor said as he stood from his chair and left my office.


`I need to talk to my mother,' I thought to myself as I left my office and headed around the corner of hers. I knocked on her door which was open, "Jeffery, what can I do for you?"


"I just spoke to this 15 year old kid from the high school," I began. "It seems he likes boys instead of girls. But, he is afraid that everyone will hate him for being gay. Sound familiar?"


"Yup!" My mother replied. "How did it go?"


"I told him my story, referred him to the It Gets Better Project website, gave him my contact information, and told him to feel free to call me any time," I told my mother.


"Why do I think you feel you haven't done enough to help him?" My mother asked me.


"Because he said he had to leave because his mother was expecting him home," I told her.


"And, why is that bad?" she asked.


"I don't think he was finished talking to me, but he needed to get home," I answered her question.


"Do you think he will try to take his own life?" my mother asked.


"He said he wouldn't," I quietly said. "Do you think I should break my trust in him and tell his parents?"


"Do you think he will call you or contact you before he tries something desperate?" She asked.


"I can only hope," I told her. "He specifically said `no' when I asked him if he had ever considered committing suicide."


"Then, I think you should not break his trust," She told me. "Do you know his family?"


"Yes," I quietly responded. "A very prominent one. A very political one. A very conservative one."


"I personally think you have done everything you can do at this point," she added.


"What do you think the congregation would say if I wanted to visit the high school and give them a tolerance talk?" I asked.


"You can ask the board," she suggested.


"Okay," I added as I stood to leave, "I'll ask."




Three days later, on a Thursday evening, I was sitting with Phillip in our kitchen, my phone began to ring. "Jeffery LeBlanc," I said as I answered the call.


"Jeffery, this is Trevor," a voice almost whispered into the phone.


"Is something wrong, Trevor?" I asked.


"My father beat me up," he whispered again. I could detect a whimper like he was crying.


"Where are you now?" I asked.


"I am supposed to be in my room," Trevor told me. "But, I snuck out of the house through the window of my bedroom. I'm at the McDonald's on Main Street."


"Stay there!" I told him. "I will be right there."


"Okay," he responded as he hung up the phone.


"Phillip," I was explaining as I gathered up my keys and wallet. "That was Trevor—the kid I told you about. His father beat him up. He's at McDonalds. I need to go get him."


"I'll go with you!" he announced as he joined me racing to my car.


We drove- to McDonalds and found Trevor sitting on a curb behind the restaurant.


"Trevor," I almost shouted to him. "Get in the car."


When he was in the back seat, Phillip and I turned to look at him.


"Shit Trevor!" I said when I looked at his swollen lip and eye that was starting to turn black and blue. "Why did your father do this to you?"


"He found a book I checked out from the high school library," Trevor began to explain. "It was called How to Talk to Your Parents about Being Gay. He started screaming that no kid of his is going to be gay! Then, he began to beat the shit out of me."


"We need to take you to the emergency room, Trevor," I told him. "Are you okay with that?"


"Are they going to tell my parents?" He asked. Fear was in his voice.


"They might," I told Trevor. "But, you need to go to the emergency room."


"Okay!" Trevor agreed. "I don't want to go back to my house. I'm afraid of my Dad. He had been drinking heavily when he found the book."


As I headed for the emergency room, I turned to Phillip, "Could you please call my mother and ask if she can meet us there?"


"Sure," Phillip replied as he pulled out the phone and quickly dialed the number at my parents' house. He put it on speaker phone. "Suzanne! It's Phillip. Jeffery asked me to call you and see if you could meet us at the emergency room. We have the kid who saw Jeffery the other day in the car. His father beat him up."


"We're on our way, Phillip," she said as the call ended.


Phillip and I escorted Travis into the emergency room where we were met with the triage nurse. As she was taking Trevor's information, my mother and father arrived.


"Reverend LeBlanc!" the nurse said as she looked up from filling out the paperwork. "Are you here as an advocate for Trevor?"


"Yes," my mother said to Christine, the nurse. "One of the gentlemen who brought Trevor into the emergency room is my son, The Reverend Jeffery LeBlanc."


"I thought he looked familiar," Christine said as she turned back to the paper work. "We are almost through here, Trevor. Then, I am going to take you in to see a doctor. You realize that we will need to call your parents, Trevor."


"I can't go back to that house," Trevor told the nurse. His voice was quivering.


"We will also contact the police and DCFS," the nurse told Trevor.


Christine escorted Trevor to an exam room, and my parents, Phillip, and I took seats in the ER waiting room. We had been in the waiting room for about 20 minutes before the police arrived. Christine pointed in our direction and the two police officers moved toward us.


"Reverend LeBlanc," the first office addressed me. "I'm Officer Mills and this is Officer Kinkaid. I understand you brought Trevor Franklin into the emergency room tonight."


"Yes, Officer," I told the officer as I stood to greet him. "He had come to me for advice a few days earlier. He told me his father found a book he had checked out of the high school library called How to Talk to Your Parents about Being Gay. Apparently, he started beating on him. And, Trevor escaped the house through his bedroom window. He immediately called me, and we met him where he was hiding. And, then, we brought Trevor here to the ER."


"You know who his father is, don't you?" The officer asked me.


"Yes," I told him.


"You realize this will not be an easy situation," The officer explained. "It will get sticky before it's all over. He will try to pull every string he has available to him to make this situation go away!"


"I don't doubt that," I said to Officer Mills as a spry lady carrying a briefcase entered the waiting room.


"Officer Mills, I'm Hellen D'Angelo from DCFS," she told him. "I understand we might have a situation here involving a 15 year old boy."


"Yes, Ms. D'Angelo," the officer began to explain. "He is Trevor Franklin. The Congressman's son. It appears that the Congressman used physical force when he discovered his son might be gay."


"Oh dear God!" Ms. D'Angelo sighed. She finally spotted us sitting in the waiting room. "Jeffery! Phillip! Did you bring the boy here?"


"Yes, Ms. D'Angelo," I told her. She was the social worker who had qualified Phillip and me as foster parents. "He had been to see me a few days ago. I had given him my contact information. And, tonight, after he escaped out of his bedroom window, he called me for help."


"I don't know where this is going yet, but, if we need to get him out of his father's house, would you be willing to be his foster parents temporarily?" Ms. D'Angelo asked Philip and me.


"Of course," Philip told her.


"Good," Ms. D'Angelo replied before she disappeared into the emergency area.


She returned several minutes later. "His mother is currently in China on a business trip, and Trevor has no grandparents alive... Now, I need to talk to the medical team to determine the scope of his injuries. I will be back to speak with you as soon as I can."


"Thank you, Ms. D'Angelo," I said to her. Phillip and I returned to our seats next to my mother and father.


We waited for what seemed to be an eternity before Ms. D'Angelo returned with Officer Mills.


"Trevor's doctor is going to admit him for observation," Ms. D'Angelo told us. "He could probably be released tomorrow morning unless they find internal issues. In the meantime, I have been in contact with a judge who will be signing a warrant for the Congressman's arrest for child abuse. She is also signing a restraining order to prevent the Congressman from contacting Trevor until the dispute is resolved. If you and Phillip are willing to care for Trevor, I will issue the appropriate paperwork and have it ready tomorrow morning. Can you both be here at 9 am?"


"Yes," Phillip answered for us.


"What about going to work tomorrow, Phillip?" I asked him.


"This is more important than work," Phillip told me. "Just ask yourself what Sam and Chris would do."


"I have been," I told Phillip.




Phillip and I arrived at the hospital at 8:45 am. Ms. D'Angelo was already there speaking with Trevor's doctor.


"Jeffery. Phillip," Ms. D'Angelo said as she motion for us to join her and the doctor. "This is Trevor's doctor Ray Lee. He will be releasing Trevor fairly soon. Dr. Lee, this is Reverend Jeffery LeBlanc and his partner Phillip Harris. They will be Trevor's foster parents until we get this matter resolved. I also understand that Congressman Franklin will be arraigned this morning on charges of child abuse. The house is considered a crime scene. So, we can't get to Trevor's belongings for a while. Hopefully, we can go there tomorrow and retrieve some of his things. Officer Mills is with Trevor now taking his statement."


"How is Trevor doing?" I asked.


"Trevor's right eye is swollen almost shut and bruised. There are bruises on other parts of his body as well. Trevor took several blows to the stomach. We were concerned that there might be internal damage, but it doesn't appear so at this point," Dr. Lee explained Trevor's injuries. "He has very sore ribs, but they are not broken. Any questions for me?"


"Any special care?" I asked.


"No," Dr. Lee added. "If he develops any symptoms, such as severe headaches, nausea, double vision, I will want to see him immediately. I will give you a prescription for a strong Ibuprofen tablet for pain, but no real pain killers unless his condition worsens in the next few days. His best medicine will be rest. I want to see him again in five days no matter what—sooner if he is having problems."


Officer Mills joined us in the waiting room, "I have taken a statement of last night's beating from Trevor. Another officer is searching the house for signs of the struggle."


"Can we speak with Trevor now?" I asked.


"Of course," Dr. Lee told us. "I will get his release papers started. He should be ready to leave in about one hour."


Phillip and I thanked everyone and we found Trevor's room. When we opened the door, he was sitting up in bed watching Good Morning America.


"Hello, Trevor," I greeted him.


"Hello, guys," Trevor said as his face broadened into a smile. "And, thanks for being there for me last night."


"You're welcome, Trevor," Phillip said. "You are going to be staying with us for a while. We are officially your foster parents until your situation is fully taken care of."


"Officer Mills told me that my father was arrested last night and is appearing in court this morning," Trevor told us. "When they let him out on bail, will I be forced to live with him?"


"Not according to Ms. D'Angelo, the social worker," I told Trevor. "At this point, she and the two of us are responsible for your well-being until the court determines that your father is no longer a threat to you. Of course, things might change if your mother can be contacted."


"I think both of them will be mad as hell for me blowing the whistle on my father," Trevor said sadly.


"We will work on that issue when the time is right," Phillip reassured Trevor. "The doctor is getting you ready to be discharged into our care in less than an hour. We brought you something to wear home. Is there something you need us to do? We can't get into your house for a little while, so we will probably buy you a few changers of clothing."


"What do I do about school?" Trevor asked.


"The doctor will tell us when you can go back to school," I told him. "In the meantime, I will talk with the principal and get assignments from your teachers."


"I have a paper due in a few weeks in my history class," Trevor told us. "Unfortunately, it is on my computer in my room. Do you think they will be able to get my laptop?"


"Ms. D'Angelo thought they might be able to get some of your stuff later today or tomorrow," I told Trevor.


Dr. Lee bounded into the room with a stack of paper work, "I will just need you to sign a few of these forms, and you can be on your way home."


We headed to our house after Trevor had been released. Once inside, Trevor looked around at our sparsely decorated space.


"We have more furniture ordered, but it hasn't come in yet," I explained the house. "We have all of the necessities, though."


"This is way nicer than my parents place," Trevor spoke up. "Their house is stuffed with furniture. Most of it doesn't get used because my mom is paranoid something will happen to her collection as she calls it."


"We live here," Phillip added. "Everything is meant to be used from time to time. Otherwise, it wouldn't be home."


We showed Trevor to his bedroom. He decided to take a nap.


The doorbell rang about 6 pm. I saw it was Ms. D'Angelo on the security monitor, "Good evening, Ms. D'Angelo! Come in. Phillip and Trevor are fixing dinner. Would you like to join us?"


"I'd love too, but I have a few other things I need to accomplish this evening," Ms. D'Angelo explained as we headed to the kitchen. "Hello, Phillip, Trevor. I have some information for you, and I thought you would want to know this as soon as possible. First of all, Trevor, I want you to know that you are safe here. Your father cannot contact you in any way. If he does try to contact you, make certain you tell Jeffery, Phillip, or one of your teachers at school. He will be in violation of his bail and can be re-arrested."


"So, he is out on bail?" I asked.


"Yes," Ms. D'Angelo continued. "His bail was set at $100 thousand dollars, which his attorney posted this morning. Tomorrow morning, you and I, Trevor, will be escorted by police to your house so you can retrieve some of your belongings. Please make a list of the things you want. Your father will not be present during our visit."


"At least I won't need to start my history paper over!" Trevor added.


"Now," Ms. D'Angelo changed the subject. "Here is the hard part, Trevor. Your father's attorney visited the manager of our office. He told my supervisor that Congressman Franklin is willing to give up all parental rights for your well-being if the charges against him are dropped. How does that make you feel, Trevor?"


"I suppose he must have mentioned that he doesn't want a faggot son living with him. Is that correct, Ms. D'Angelo?" Trevor asked.


"I don't have the exact wording, Trevor, but I am assuming it was something like that," Ms. D'Angelo quietly said to Trevor.


"What about my mom?" Trevor asked. "Does she feel the same way?"


"We don't know that yet," Ms. D'Angelo explained. "She isn't expect back until next month."


"God forbid she would cut short her business trip," Trevor said in an angry voice. "So, guys! I guess you are stuck with me for a while."


"You are welcome here as long as you need to be here," Phillip told him.


"Thanks, guys," Trevor told us.




Ms. D'Angelo picked Trevor up at 9 am the morning after he was released from the hospital the previous day. They were retrieving some of Trevor's belongings at his father's house. When they returned about two hours later, it was obvious that Trevor had been crying.


"What's wrong, Trevor?" I asked.


"My fucking father smashed my laptop," Trevor said. His voice was quivering. "It has all of my stuff on it. My school work. My music. My contact list. My photos. Everything."


"I don't know much about computers, but maybe we can get your stuff off the hard drive," I told Trevor. "I'll talk to someone I know that might be able to help."


"Thanks," Trevor added. "Where should I put my stuff?"


"In your room," I told him. "It is yours for as long as you need it! Shouldn't we get your stuff into the house?"


"There are two volunteers who have a small truck with all of Trevor's belongings," Ms. D'Angelo told me. "They will bring everything in. You just need to show them where to put things."


The volunteers were very efficient and finished quickly.


While Trevor was supervising the move, I pulled out my phone and called Sam. "Sam, hello! Jeffery LeBlanc here!"


"Hello, Jeffery!" Sam said enthusiastically. "What can I do for you?"


"It's a long story, but Phillip and I have a foster son living with us as of yesterday," I told Sam. "His father beat him up when he found a book Trevor had checked out of the school library called How to Talk to Your Parent's about Being Gay."


"Bastard!" Sam muttered. "Anyone I know?"


"Congressman Franklin," I told Sam. "We took Trevor the emergency room the other night after the beating. He was admitted overnight."


"Congressman Fucking Franklin!" Sam almost shouted. "He's one of the biggest assholes in the town. Holier than thou dick head!"


"DCFS brought charges against the Congressman," I told Sam. "However, he had the audacity to send his attorney to DCFS to offer relinquishing his parental rights with the stipulation that the charges against the esteemed Congressman be dropped."


"Do you need an attorney to act in Trevor's behalf?" Sam asked.


"We haven't talked about that yet," I admitted.


"Let me tell the story to Chris and Chris's grandfather," Sam told me. "Mr. Washington knows everyone everywhere in the law business!"


"Thanks," I told Sam. "One other thing. Trevor's father smashed Trevor's laptop. Trevor wants to get the stuff off the hard drive. Is that possible?"


"Probably," Sam said. "I don't know how to do it personally, but I do know someone on campus who does it all the time for people. I'll find out. If the dude can do it, would you be willing to drive up to Champaign on tomorrow?"


"Absolutely!" I told Sam.


"I'll call you by tomorrow evening," Sam told me as we ended the phone call.


I returned to the living room. The volunteers had unloaded everything and the stuff was in Trevor's bedroom.




Phillip, Trevor, and I were in the kitchen on Friday evening. We were all attempting to make dinner when my phone rang.


"Hello, Sam," I answered the call.


"Jeffery, Chris is here on speaker phone with me," Sam told me. "Is Trevor and Phillip around?"


"Yes, should I turn on the speaker phone?" I asked Sam and Chris.


"Sure!" Sam told me. Once I had it switched to speaker phone Sam continued. "Item one. I talked to my friend. He told me that he has never failed at getting data off a hard drive. Can you guys be here by 2 pm tomorrow afternoon?"


"Absolutely," Phillip answered. "How much will this cost?"


"Don't worry about it," Sam told us. "The dude owes me a favor! He is a computer geek, but he can't write worth shit. I've helped him several times. It's payback time. Now, onto item two. Chris and I talked with Chris's grandfather. An attorney from his firm will call you on Monday morning. Can you have the DCFS people available to do a conference call around 10 am?"


"Probably," I answered. "Why the attorney?"


"My grandfather is worried that the Congressman will try to pull some tricks out of his sleeve," Chris explained. "This attorney, Devon Wright, is one of the best attorneys in the country specializing in family law, especially custody cases. He will spend as much time down there as necessary to make certain that the Congressman doesn't try to pull a fast one."


"Can we afford this guy?" Phillip asked.


"His fee is taken care of already," Chris answered.


"By whom?" I asked.


"The Washington Family Foundation," Chris answered. "Mr. Wright wants to get as much out of the Congressman as he possibly can. Little things like paying for Trevor's college education. Maybe even prison time for the Congressman. The guy is good!"


"Any other miracles you two will be pulling out of your hats?" Phillip asked.


"Just one other thing," Sam told us. "What kind of computer do you prefer, Trevor? Windows or Mac?"


"Windows," Trevor answered. "My old one is Windows."


"Window it is then," Sam told us. "We will have a new one for you when we go see Mr. Fixit. Chris's grandfather also suggested that Trevor might need a new phone since the esteemed Congressman will probably turn Trevor's off. What carrier do you use, Jeffery?"


"Verizon," I told the group. "It's the only carrier that works here."


"Okay," Sam said before he continued. "Do you want a Windows phone—which I recommend highly—or an Android or an iPhone?"


"I'll leave that up to you," an astonished Trevor said.


"Then, Windows it is," Sam told us. "We will go to the Verizon store near the campus after we see Mr. Fit It. Do you want to put it on your plan or should we sign up for a new one with just Trevor?"


"On ours, of course," I told Sam.


"Okay," Sam said.


"Why don't you guys arrive around 12 noon," Chris suggested. "We can have lunch here before we go see the computer guy and then the phone store. You can spend the night if you'd like. We have a guestroom and a pullout sofa."


"I need to be back here on Sunday," I told the guys. "I have a talk to give on Sunday morning at 11 am."


"Okay," Chris told us. "We understand. We're looking forward to seeing you, Jeffery and Phillip, and meeting you, Trevor. Have a good evening!"


"You, too," I said as we switched off the call.


"What just happened here?" Trevor asked.


"Do you know Sam Williamson?" I asked Trevor.


"Yea!" Trevor told us. "Everyone knows Sam Williamson."


"We are going to be spending time with him, his boyfriend Chris, their son Donny, and their three Border Collies, Lincoln, Roosevelt, and Simon." I told an astonished Trevor.


"Why are they doing this for me?" Trevor asked.


"It's what they do, Trevor," I told him. "Don't ask too many questions. Just accept them for whom they are. Two very remarkable young men."



To be continued...


I hope you liked the direction that `Jeffery Comes Home' is taking. I would enjoy hearing your comments about this story. You can write to me at


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Sam and Chris in the `College' section


John's Journey Forward in the `Beginnings' section


Life With Tom in the authoritarian section (Please note, this story is not for everyone because there are several scenes depicting Master/slave and BDSM relationships. So, if you are not interested in this activity, please, please do not read this story.)


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