Date: Sat, 25 Jul 2009 03:31:07 -0500
From: maxborren@gmail.com
Subject: On Straight and Narrow - The Story of Max & Chris - # 4: Only Despair and Darkness

Copyright 2009 by "The Stories of Max Borren"; all rights reserved.

On Straight and Narrow - The Story of Max & Chris -- # 4: Only Despair and
Darkness

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:       MOSTLY STORYBOARD / SOME EROTICA

This installment is labeled `Mostly Storyboard' since it contains only some
erotic content.  If you want lots of sexual thrills you'll need to wait for
the next installment.  I debated long and hard about whether or not to even
include this chapter of the story, so I contacted some selected readers who
I've been in communication with during much of my writing on these stories
and asked for their ideas and opinions, as well as those of some people in
the writing industry.  Almost universally the opinion was that it was best
to include this part of the story since it's vital in understanding the
true nature of the character of Maximilian (Max).  At this point and time
what you're about to read concerns the dark secret past life that Max led
before he met Chris, a fact that Max hasn't yet shared with the boy - a
past he'd rather never share with Chris.  This is only one chapter of Max's
past -- there are actually many such chapters that we may or may not end up
exploring (some so sexually arousing they'd likely blind you).  You decide
and then let me know.

Please don't forget the footnotes at the bottom of the story.  Most of the
time it doesn't hurt if you want to jump to the footnotes first, because it
may actually give you some insight into the storyline as you read.

OH WAIT A MINUTE, I JUST REMEMBERED SOMETHING.

My dearest readers, who I'm coming to love, I think; I must point out
something to you and clear up something for you.  These are `fiction'
stories (according to a friend in the writing industry, I believe).  What
that means is that even if 99% of the story is based on real life people
and real events -- the 1% that isn't reality makes the stories
`fiction'. That said that means these stories are works of `Fiction'.  No,
I won't tell you the percentage! (Foolish child if you thought I'd answer
that one.)  Now, let me clear up something you're all are dying to know (or
so your emails keep asking) - YES `Max' and `Chris' are real people, they
had a real relationship, and these stories are primarily dictated by them
to me, Max Borren the writer -- I had to keep you guessing for a little
while to increase your sexual interest, I think.  I hope that settles that
point for you finally.  As I said at the end of Chapter 3 in the footnotes
(if you bothered to read them) you may send any and all questions to me,
regarding truth or fiction, for `Max' or `Chris' (provided they agree to
answer) -- well any questions at all really and you WILL receive a reply
unless your email is lost in the Internet somehow.  A warning -- `Chris'
doesn't like any questions regarding male-on-male sex, don't even bother to
ask it.  He simply won't answer and I can't make him (wouldn't even try
to).  The last thing you all keep asking is if I (Max Borren the writer) am
the same `Max' in my stories.  Ha ha ha ha ha, I can't help it, I'm sorry,
I'm rolling on the floor just laughing my fucking head off on this one.
I've told some of you "YES, I'm indeed the `Max' in the stories"; I've also
told some of you "NO, I'm not the `Max' in the stories".  Surely you see
where this is going don't you, foolish readers?  Max the writer writes
Fiction, foolish to ask him such questions since he writes however his mood
takes him at the time.  So the answer to that question is: YOU WON'T GET
THE TRUTH FROM ME!

Still, you can address questions to `Max in the stories' or simply `Chris'
and your answers from them will be forthcoming in the replies to you,
honestly, no joke (even if the reply only states "No answer").

Thank you, MAX, Mailto:maxborren@att.net

Events up till now:

Chris, having lost his family, now resides with his older friend Max, a
young trade professional, in an upscale apartment, in a suburban
metropolitan area of Texas. With Max's help, Chris is preparing to start
his junior year at a fairly exclusive affluent local high school. While
entertaining some new high school classmates, Chris had a mental collapse,
though it appears minor.  The collapse was unknowingly brought on by Max
confronting the young man with the unanticipated and unwanted sexual
attraction by one of the boy's new male classmates toward Chris. Some good
may yet come out of this, if Max can only figure out what secret past
trauma or abuse has so devastated the boy that he appears to have blocked
out much of his younger life.  Unfortunately, Max is about to confront his
own past dark secrets as well -- by now remembering the promise he made
years ago to a friend, a promise that saved Max's life in order that he
might then also find and save another lost soul.  Max has been searching
for this individual for more than three years. I know you've never heard
this before in the story and I'm sorry, but this was because Max had
basically forgotten after years of searching in vain.

Max just finished putting the boy to bed for a period of rest -- so that he
could later return to finish visiting with his new school friends.  Max,
for his part, is still coming to terms with the realization that someone in
Chris' past had obviously terrorized him -- so terrible was the trauma that
the boy only functions by blocking out much of his childhood.


And so, The story begins...

As Max walked into the living room, again, he turned to head for the foyer
and suddenly grasp the decorative pillar that fronted the wall between the
living room and entryway and slowly began to collapse against the heavy
wood.  Great sobs began to wrack his chest and he felt certain that he must
sit down, before gravity put him down hard.  Instead he crushed his arms
harder into the wood and dragged himself up.  "DAMN YOU!  WHOEVER YOU ARE,
MAY YOU ROT IN HELL YOU BASTARDS!" he shouted at no one.

`Be quiet you fool', a part of him reminded his self; `the kids are still
outside!'  "Dannie, please forgive me for ever doubting your intuition and
insight, beloved.  I simply didn't see how someone else in this world could
ever mean something so special to me, though you told me that I must save
them or they'd forever be lost to this world", Max seemed to be speak to
the air.  It had all become perfectly clear to him now.  Max was a very
cunning man.  He'd manipulated more people and organizations, in both high
school and college, than he could ever possibly remember, let alone count.
He was always careful.  He never did it for power or money like so many
other people with that ability had done before him.  It had been only for
self-preservation -- or at least, that was the excuse he'd used in his
thinking to justify his past actions.  This was part of his dark past that
he'd specifically hidden from the boy.  Max had been a somewhat gifted
student who'd skipped several grades in both junior high and high school,
and entered college just after his sixteenth birthday.  By the start of his
junior year of college the young man had become lost among the maze of
masks that he wore daily, hourly, and sometimes minute to minute before
changing them completely.  By then he no longer had any earthly idea who
was the real Max.  `Max' had existed since junior high when he'd flung off
the full name and adopted the shorter one only.  If anyone had called him
Maximilian he wouldn't have bothered to acknowledge them and simply kept
walking until the individual addressed him properly.  He was that arrogant
in his self-image.  The one exception that he couldn't expunge was the
family that continued to refer to him as `Maxi' which he'd loathed but bore
the burden all the same.  He'd just come home less and less frequently as
the years passed and his family took that to mean that he was becoming a
man and learning to live on his own.  Little did they know the truth that
would have shattered their world.  Had they then seen what their son had
truly become, by the middle of his college years, they wouldn't have
recognized the boy if he'd been standing two feet in front of their faces.

And then it all came crashing down just after the start of his junior year.
He was frequently disoriented and lost.  His roommates began finding him in
strange places at strange hours, fully clothed sometimes -- when
inappropriate, like under the shower in the bathroom and stark naked at
other times -- also inappropriate, like on the front porch of their student
apartment at 3 am.  His best friend, his roommate, tried his best to help
but he was completely out of sorts and was constantly asking Max, "What's
wrong?" and "What can I do to help?"  Max couldn't give him any answers --
although the boy knew precisely what was wrong with him.  `Max' the
manipulator had died.  There was no real `Max', there never had been.  And
that fictional `Max' had killed `Maximilian' many years before.  This body
was just a hollow shell, waiting for final release, destruction.  It
couldn't be helped; eventually it came to the attention of school
authorities, especially after a comatose boy was rushed to the emergency
room -- where they could find nothing wrong with him.  A doctor told his
roommate "the kid was faking, just trying to get attention I guess".
Furious the boy drove the naked disturbed young man back to their apartment
and sat down on the twin beds facing each other.  "Max, this is all I can
take.  You're sick, guy.  I know it's not some fake thing, so it's
something in your head.  If you don't see the school counselor, or find a
real doctor, then I'll have to tell your parents and report this to the
head of student services.  I don't know of any other way to help you" his
roommate said with his head bowed before the naked boy in the hospital
sheet.  For the first time in days, Max looked into his friend's eyes with
eyes that were totally vacant; but still he nodded his head in
acknowledgment and then crawled into the bed exhausted.

From that point on, it was a never-ending trail of one set of doctors or
psychiatrists after another.  Some tests indicated brain damage; others
said a chemical imbalance, and nothing made any sense to the professionals.
Based on the test results, that were so bizarre, the professionals began
prescribing various combinations of drugs.  At first, with the early drugs
-- the drugs that mostly made Max groggy, he was more or less still able to
attend classes and so kept pace to some degree with his class schedule, for
a few weeks.  After the prescription drug regimen had started, friends
began noticing changes in the boy.  He began losing weight and his hair
seemed to lose some luster.  Then, as the weeks progressed and the boy's
mood and personality darkened, the experts, based on even more testing,
decided to add yet more drugs to try and do what they could for a boy that
seemed to be spiraling downward.  The drugs they administered to Max then
were a living hell, unfathomable to mortal men.  They left the boy
screaming at times for no apparent reason and so yet more drug changes were
ordered, which then frequently caused the boy to run in circles until
exhaustion hit.  Again unsatisfied, one of the final drug additions and
changes left the boy so frightened that he was often found shaking and
hiding in corners.  At those moments he seemed something more animal than
human.  Once all the specialist finally found the `correct cocktail' of
prescription drugs necessary to preserve the boy's sanity, and life, the
boy seemed to come back from oblivion briefly, though by this time, it
would have been impossible for Max to complete the semester.  In final
frustration, still unable to make any clear diagnosis, they finally brought
the boy before their expert panel begging the young man for any possible
insight he now had into his current predicament -- in a moment of single
shining clarity the boy slowly, gracefully stood up in front of his doctors
and proclaimed "This body will die now. I no longer care what you do with
it" and he collapsed unconscious on the floor.  They immediately rushed the
unconscious boy to the local emergency room, but the hospital there
couldn't handle the case -- it was outside of any of their specialist's
abilities.

Eventually, the boy was transported to one of the highest specialty
hospitals in the state of Texas.  They had no idea where to place him so
they put him in the voluntary commitment psychiatric ward, the one reserved
for those suffering traumatic brain injuries but with treatable mental
problems or conditions.  Max had been there for a few months now and during
this time his body had continued to fail and waste away.  But one day, on a
voluntary consultation a doctor in passing said he thought the collapse of
the boy's systems might be due to an interaction of all the different
psychiatric and control medications that an army of psychiatrists, doctors
and specialists had insisted the boy needed, "Just a guess mind you, but
I'd think that only a roaring idiot could ever prescribe such a deadly set
of concoctions to any human being".  This particular physician was one of
the old style Texas specialists, a retired rancher now that still came in
for the occasional consultation still wearing his boots from rounding up
cattle on the back 1,000 acres of his spread.

A complete analysis of the drugs that Max had been prescribed found that 6
of the 12 drugs had major interactions and serious side effects with
complications. No one had even noticed. Half the staff wanted to stop all
the drugs immediately; the other half argued, "That would kill the boy from
the withdrawal symptoms in a matter of days".  There was good evidence for
both points of view -- but one thing was certain, if nothing else was done,
the once strapping healthy muscular 185 lb. 6 foot 2 inch college boy would
most certainly be dead within the next 2 weeks.  Finally, the senior staff
doctor said "tell the boy, he's here voluntarily, let him make the choice"
and the senior charge nurse asked, "Doctor, aren't you afraid of a lawsuit
here, that boy was most definitely improperly medicated as well as over
medicated with bias".  She was saying that, since the boy was in an
untenable situation that he caused through no fault of his own, his death
either way would almost certainly be a legal nightmare for years to come.
"No one on our staff bears any responsibility.  The orders were all written
by physicians outside of the purview of this facility," the doctor stated
plainly.  In other words, it would most certainly be a mess but the only
way the hospital could be held accountable was if they somehow intervened
in the inevitable or interfered in the boy's own wishes since he was over
18 years old now and an adult in the eyes of the legal system.  The nurse
bowed her head and walked to the boy's room.  She could do nothing more now
but follow orders.

Looking across at the shattered remains of the once virile healthy young
man, the old nurse reach out and gently patted the boy's bony hand.  A new
orderly had come along as a training exercise, and just in case the elderly
female RN needed assistance with the boy.  When the boy began to lift his
head the sheet dropped off his shoulders and drifted lazily down to the
floor.  The young orderly gasp and the old RN looked back over her shoulder
and frowned severely at this newest staff member.  The orderly knew he'd
get a stern lecture later, but he couldn't help himself.  The bones
protruded from the boy's haggard face.  The black eyes had sunken deeply
back into the skull and the mouth was dried out and shriveled pulling at
the teeth which were now all stained a sickly yellow.  In places the once
lustrous medium ash brown hair was falling completely off the skull.  The
hair was lifeless, no shine whatsoever and the ends were mostly broken and
stuck out at odd angles from the head.  Clearly people were not taking the
best of care of this patient. The rest of the body was even worse if that
was possible. The shoulder bones protruding out along with the rib cage --
even visible behind the medical gown pulled up to hide the boy's nakedness.
The legs were only sticks like in a stick figure drawing.  This young man
had been over 175 lbs. once?  He couldn't possibly weigh even 99 lbs. now
-- and didn't look to be over 5 feet 10 inches if that!  The RN yanked on
the orderly's shirt "Stop staring at the boy, David, or this will be your
first and last day of work in my hospital" the old RN whispered frantically
to the young new employee.  She turned back quietly to the boy, the dying
boy in front of her, because there could be absolutely no doubt that this
young man already had one foot in the grave, "Max, I have something I need
to ask you, son.  Would that be Ok?"  The haggard skull turned slowly to
lock the horror of it's stare on the old woman in front of it, "Max is
dead.  I no longer care what you do with this body".  The orderly began
trembling because he'd always been afraid of ghosts and if ever there was a
person about to become a ghost this thing in front of him was just such a
creature.  "DAVID!" the old RN yelled, "GET OUT, NOW!" The orderly ran from
the hospital room as fast as his legs could carry him and didn't stop until
he was on the fast elevator taking him anywhere but on this floor.  The old
woman rose slowly, her arthritis pained hips and knees hurt so badly, but
she didn't know what else to do.  The boy's response was expected.  Most
everyday those were the only words you could get from him.  She walked the
single step and then as painful as it was for her the elderly grandmother
of 12 bent down and wrapped the frail thing in her arms even though the
smell nearly drove her to the floor -- no one had bothered to check on him
and he'd soiled himself again. "Maximilian, they want to take you off all
the drugs while you're still under our care, my sweet one, but some say
that the withdrawal will kill you quickly, but most certainly staying on
these drugs will kill you just as fast" She couldn't help herself the
woman's arms began to shake as she held this boy who was younger than most
of her 12 grandchildren.  Hell would have no mercy for the people who'd so
horribly abused this child with the idea that somehow they were saving him.
Instead they'd sealed his fate.  Barely in a whisper did the child respond
to the words and the embrace as he never had before. "How long?" the hollow
voice echoed.  It was too much for the old woman she dropped her arms and
turned away from the devastation of the child that sat before her, "A week,
two at most" the old RN could only croak the words as tears began falling
from her eyes.  In 64 years she'd seen too much death, so much so that it
seldom, if ever, touched this old army nurse.  She'd seen young men too
young to fight brought screaming before her in more pieces than was humanly
possible and later they left in a body bag that was simply stacked on a
pile that just kept growing.  Later, when she could take that no more she
moved to the major hospitals in her home state of Texas and worked her way
up until this particular highly acclaimed facility had a doctor on staff
that was an old army friend of the RN.  He begged her to come and work for
him.  It was his orders she now held in her hand that had all but written
off the child's life now behind her.  Young, old, babes, mothers, fathers,
sons, daughters, husbands, wives -- she'd treated all and watched many
leave the silent route just like the young men in the wars.  Somehow, this
one was more than she could take.  She'd told the boy, nothing he said
would really matter in the end.  The old woman dried her tears so that none
of the staff would know she'd been crying.  That would be very
unprofessional for someone in her position, scheduled to retire at the end
of the month.  Just as she was about to walk through the door, the frail
thing behind her managed to push words once more through the rasping thing
that was his dry dying throat, "Where's Dannie?" the boy whispered.
Startled, the old woman turned around and again faced the boy, "Who child?"
"Dannie" was the boy's failing response.  The old woman thought to herself
and then raced out the door to the nurse's station as fast as her arthritic
knees could carry her.

"Quickly, do any of you remember a staff member or patient named `Danny' or
`Daniel'?"  Various people responded -- there were several Daniels on staff
and yes some occasionally went by Danny -- this wasn't the answer the old
charge nurse was looking for.  Finally, a young pretty candy striper with
blue or green eyes that had been standing around the corner chimed in
"Ma'am, could you tell us who was asking?"  The old woman had forgotten to
mention it, "Max, the terminal college boy from up north, you know the
one".  The entire staff shook their heads at that, they all knew that boy,
"And Bill" the old charge nurse almost shouted.  A slouching big orderly
who was lounging around the back of the station stood up straight and
looked at the top nurse, fearful of what was wrong, "Get in that room and
change that boy now! From the smell, he's been sitting like that since you
picked him out of bed seven hours ago!"  Bill cringed -- he'd been found
out, he just didn't want that messy job right after he'd eaten his
breakfast.  "You mean `Dannie'" the pretty candy striper remembered now.
"That's what I said, `Danny'" the old woman replied. "No ma'am, I mean
DANNIE, `Dannie''" the girl replied.  Then the old woman understood, "Well
who is she?"  The girl dropped her head and said, "She was the rich girl on
the next ward over that was in for elective brain surgery to improve her
speech abilities. She and Max sometimes sat together during lunch in the
cafeteria -- Dannie really liked Max and he didn't care that her speech
seemed strange or retarded", the girl suddenly thought that she had said
something seriously wrong.  The girl from a wealthy family had a lesion on
her brain near her speech center.  It caused the young pretty college co-ed
to speak in such a way that many people thought she was mentally retarded
or mentally handicapped, when in point of fact she was a Rhodes Scholar and
had been valedictorian of her boarding school and was one of the most
outstanding students at her college.  Apparently, her family was
embarrassed by her inability to speak normally and this hospital was
pioneering a new type of experimental surgery that could excise the damaged
brain tissue and give a better than 50/50 chance of normal speech.  The
procedure had been available for some time now, though it was still
experimental and rumors around the hospital said that the family kept
pushing the girl to submit to it.  Based of the number of times the surgery
had been rescheduled, it appeared the girl was reluctant to proceed with
the dangerous operation.  The current estimated mortality rate from the
procedure was running 25-35% and was really only recommended in cases of
severely handicapped individuals where without speech long-term care might
become life threatening, which wasn't really the case for this girl.  Only
last month, the girl apparently acquiesced to her parent's wishes and had
been staying in the hospital in preparation for the procedure.

During her stay, Dannie had met Max totally by accident at lunch one day
and being bright and intelligent she instantly understood the deep despair
in the young man, that was obvious to the pretty girl.  She'd forced the
staff to continue arranging `accidental' lunch and dinner meetings in the
cafeteria between herself and Max even to the point of rescheduling her
surgery several times in order to continue to try and reach out to the
young man.  The girl's family was one of the known wealthy backers of
several of the hospital's charitable funds so naturally the staff obeyed
her every wish and her parents just wrote off the girl's insistence on
rescheduling as `cold-feet' and said she'd come around sooner or later.  At
first, the girl could get nothing out of Max other than his usual hollow
response, so she just began telling him all about herself and her life.
After a few weeks the boy no longer gave his hollow responses, and while he
also didn't share anything of himself he began to listen more and more to
Dannie and her story.  The boy seemed fascinated by the girl's tale and she
told him everything -- fearful that he might be bright enough to realize if
she attempted subterfuge or left out too much of her real life's story.
Eventually, the young pretty brunette with the huge blue green eyes was
forced to admit to Max what had brought her to this hospital and what her
deepest fears were about being here.  The girl wept bitterly as she spoke
of past humiliation for her and those around her because of her speech
problems and how it had brought her to this difficult decision that offered
the only hope for normalcy.  She confessed her fear of dying and began to
speak about the encouragement of her family, but couldn't finish speaking
to the boy, so overcome was she by her own grief.  It was on that occasion
that the boy did something no one there had ever seen him do.  He reached
out his hand, the ugly bony hand, and delicately placed it on the young
pretty college co-ed's arm.  Dannie immediately stopped crying and looked
deeply into the boy's hollow eyes and said, "I don't want to die here,
Max".  The boy had little strength and so he simply squeezed her arm to
acknowledge his understanding of the young girl's plight.  Then Dannie gave
the dying boy a hug, wrapping her arms tenderly around him and said,
"Please don't die here either, Max.  I know that's what you want to do, but
there's so much more in the world to live for and I know that besides
myself there's also someone out there who desperately needs you.  Someone
only you can save, Max.  If you won't do this for me or for yourself then
please do it for them, even though I don't know who this person is".  The
boy began shaking violently.  His eyes blazed at the girl -- with rage.
How dare she tell him what to do!  No one commanded him!  If he chose to
die this way it was his choice, no mortal could take it from him.
Frantically, the boy tried to move the wheel chair in his desperation to
escape this loathsome creature.  "GO" the boy yelled at the orderly, who
immediately understood that meant to take the boy back to his room -- even
though this young man normally never spoke.  "Max, wait, please don't go",
the girl cried out to him as the boy fled.  After two days of trying Dannie
had given up on ever seeing the dying boy again; she sat that afternoon
before her surgery, scheduled for the next morning, in the garden below the
back of the hospital wing where she was staying.  She never knew that Max's
room overlooked the same garden and that most days this same view was the
one the boy watched quietly for 8 hours most everyday.  The boy didn't stir
when he watched the hospital staff escort the pretty girl to her room to
prepare for the experimental surgery.  That had been a week ago now. "Well"
said the RN, "take me to this Dannie girl!"  The little candy striper began
crying because she could only tell the old RN the truth, "I'm sorry ma'am,
but that isn't possible.  Dannie Eldridge died in surgery seven days ago".
The old woman slowly sunk into the nearest chair, "How do I tell a dying
boy that the only friend he had in this world is dead, as dead as he'll be
soon enough".  The RN just bowed her head and cried since she no longer
cared who saw it.  Nothing seemed to matter to her now.

The boy was shaking and tears, impossible to shed because of the chronic
fight against dehydration, flowed nonetheless down the pitiful thing's
face.  "Ahhhh" the boy seemed to scream though it barely came out as a
sigh.  When he'd been brought here, he was admitted voluntarily as an adult
even though it was his parent's insurance that was paying most of the
bills.  Still, as an adult the boy had prohibited the hospital from sharing
anything about his medical condition or state with any members of his
family or friends.  The boy had essentially sealed himself into this tomb
to wait the final day when he could be released from this never-ending
torment.  Not once did he have a single care for how this would affect
those that loved and cared for him.  The rare time when a single spark of
remorse tried to enter his thoughts he simply told himself -- their loved
one died long ago, no one loved or cared for this retched mockery of a
human being.  Because most hospital orders are sealed, to be revealed only
to pertinent medical staff, few in the hospital understood why no one had
ever once come to visit the dying boy on the 4th floor ward.  The boy had
completed all the seals on his final prison and only need wait the final
act that unfortunately his religious beliefs prohibited him from carrying
out himself.  Strange how that single part of his past life refused to let
go.  I didn't matter.

The boy long ago realized that when the will to live leaves a mortal soul
then death is the only possible outcome, and that seldom takes very much
time in such cases.  The doctor's had never found a diagnosis -- the
diagnosis was that they were attempting to treat a corpse!  And then on the
usual abysmal day like all other days when the staff in their attempt to
rally the boy from death insisted on another trip to the communal cafeteria
rather than allowing the boy to attempt eating as usual in his room, the
boy did what was natural and did nothing, just went along with whatever
they wanted to do with the old body.  And there she was.  That insufferable
chatty girl who talked in a manner most people would have believed
indicated mental disability, but the boy was still cunning, that curse had
never left him not in all this time or with all these doctors.  Within an
hour of her constant babbling the boy clearly understood that the girl was
playing with him for some bizarre reason.  He could still see his
reflection in the windows and the occasional mirror when it was close
enough, he knew exactly the horror that his decaying dying body had become
-- and still he waited and waited, patiently.  But this girl, this `Dannie'
person, she was brilliant, but still not good enough.  As mentioned before
within an hour the boy understood her game but not the motivation behind
it.  He tired of her chatter and eventually they took him back to his room.
Then it happened again!  How was this possible, the same girl, slightly
different time, different table -- and both her staff and the boy's
attendants just seemed to melt away the minute the boy realized what had
happened.  This was intolerable, insufferable!  The boy wouldn't stand for
the obvious attempt to control him, but what could he do.  To acknowledge
the girl and tell her to go away meant letting the outside world know that
he cared about that much.  Likewise, complaining to the staff would come to
the same result.  The boy was trapped!  When finally alone, the dying young
man chuckled to himself; alright the game was on -- one last battle, on one
side a brilliant extremely intelligent pretty college co-ed and on the
other a maniacal devious inhuman mental manipulator who'd eventually been
able to manipulate himself into a corner with death as his only exit.
Something stirred in the boy's chest, what was this feeling?  Excitement?
How strange, the boy never expected to feel that emotion in his final days.

Almost daily the two antagonists met and their match was on to see who
would win in the end.  All the boy had to do was keep silent and die, the
girl on the other hand was fighting for her right to choose her own life --
silly because she was of an age with Max so she could have left this
hospital without ever having even checked in.  That confounded the boy as
well.  The girl thought she was doling out her life's story as she wanted
and as the boy needed.  Bah, the boy had listened to her staff when they
thought no one else was listening.  No one ever pay's attention to dying
boys.  Max knew everything about this girl's situation, the experimental
surgery, the reasons for the family pressure, even the mortality rate of
the procedure which he overheard two of the lead doctors discussing at
lunch.  No what stumped Max was the reason the girl remained, if she wanted
to risk the surgery -- then have it and have done.  If she was afraid then
stand up as an adult and tell the bastards, `NO'.  Instead, this beautiful
bluish-green eyed goddess rescheduled the operation and constantly connived
with the staff to make these so-called `accidental' meetings with the dying
boy.  He'd absolutely nothing to offer this aristocratic scholarly woman.
No, there was something wrong with the boy's reasoning here.  Obviously
such intelligent a person as Dannie wouldn't go to all this effort for
nothing -- that was preposterous.  Max was overlooking something obvious,
something that he himself would have chosen to forgo, but not necessarily
something this beauty found without value or purpose.  Was it even
possible?  Did the young girl have the ability to see through Max's mask,
his disguise?  No it couldn't be, no one had ever been able to do such a
thing, absolutely no one.  Max's ability to conceal the truth was so
perfect that even he no longer knew what that truth was.  Max was a mask in
front of a mask, behind another mask beside yet another mask.  There was
nothing to this boy but masks.  But apparently the girl did see something
-- and however it was possible it was just as apparent that it couldn't be
a mask.  Dannie, like Max, would never easily be deceived.  And then it
dawned on him!  The girl believes that Max should choose for her? No that
was impossible -- he had no special insights and his choice would give the
girl nothing she didn't already possess.  So why continue to drone on about
her life, never once did she push Max to tell her about himself -- at least
not after their first meeting.

So it went day in and day out -- with neither combatant the victor. But
eventually Max began to feel something else.  The girl honestly seemed to
care about him.  How could that be?  He was nothing, nobody -- the girl
knew no more about him today than on the first day they had met and yet --
it's apparent in the way she looked at him.  The boy had deceived himself
again, to the point of impotent denial of the obvious.  Max was an
extraordinary type of manipulator -- the kind that only comes along in
every few generations.  He long ago came to terms with the curse of empathy
-- he couldn't block it out as a child.  Every retched emotion whether joy
or sorrow, fear or courage, love or hatred -- the boy felt these things
thousands of times daily in every person he met.  There was no way to block
it out.  To watch a friend, humiliated in a crowd of betrayers, and
frantically run away because that horror is your own.  That had been
Maximilian's early life.  His parents had simply told the tearful boy,
"You're just too sensitive to these things, Maxi.  Just learn to ignore
your feelings."  Ignore his feelings?  How do you ignore your brain, your
heart, or your lungs?  The child was clueless and worse he was lost and
drowning, drowning in a sea of feelings and terror.

Then, in late grade school -- a local high school needed younger children
for one of their plays and since Maxi's mother and the director were
friends Max was volunteered without his consent.  Still Max participated.
It was amazing that Max felt all these emotions during the play, he began
to understand the characters, the scenes, the plot -- regardless of his
young age it made perfect sense to the boy.  "I'm only an actor, behind a
mask.  I play a character, who loves, lives and dies, but I'm not lost,
because at the end I remove the mask and all those feelings associated with
it fade away until they're needed again."  The boy quickly learned that
people respond to actors -- to plays, so why not to a boy who is on his own
private stage, unknown to those around him.  No longer was the boy awash in
unending emotions -- he became the actor, the mask and the feelings were
bound to that character.  At the end of the day the child actor went home
and took off the mask to sit with his family and the world was perfect --
or so it seemed.  Then the little actor learned to control what he read in
the other characters in the play that wasn't really a play.  The boy used
that understanding to alter his mask, his character which could now adapt
to the individual in front of the boy and by listening to that person's
emotions the boy could again adapt and change.  The boy seemed to become
all things to all people.  He was popular, a leader.  Even other boys that
were stronger and were popular just became game pieces for the boy's
pleasure and the girls as well.  All the pretty girls fell in love with the
young boy -- they begged him to stay -- only he could satisfy their undying
love for him.  Then, when the boy tired of the play he changed scenes,
deleted whole chapters and wrote it all again.

Many of the acquaintances and friends the boy left in his wake.  Unneeded,
unwanted, no longer desired -- cast aside.  The boy was happy and in total
control of his entire world -- his entire fantasy world.  And then one day
gradually understanding dawned on the poor boy.  Long ago he'd stopped
removing the masks.  The play had been discarded, rewritten so many times
he no longer recognized the original script.  If the boy was always the
actor regardless that these people, his friends, were real flesh and blood
didn't that mean that they were no less characters in a play.  They never
saw the real boy, they were only responding to the play, just more actors.
And so his world had ceased to turn.  He'd tired of the play but the poor
little boy knew of no way to stop it, none at all.  It would turn and turn
forever.  Until finally, in his despair, the boy finally found truth; to
stop the play, simply refuse to be the actor, become nothing.

And here's Max; poor little Max, the lost wayward waif.  The monster that
had killed Dannie!  The girl never wanted or needed Max's help.  She simply
wanted to save Max because, foolish, foolish beautiful bluish-green eyed
girl once more appeared to fall under the fatal actor's embrace, only to be
discarded when once again the poor boy tired of the play.  She'd failed to
save Max and so the girl had surrendered to her fate -- she'd made a fatal
mistake and had allowed others, those who swore their love for her, to make
the most critical choice in that brilliant girl's life.  They had what they
desired.  No longer would the family need to ever feel embarrassment or
dishonor by having to explain their pitiful damaged daughter's retarded
speech problems to another living soul.  Of course they had no brilliant
pretty bluish-green eyed daughter now, but Max felt certain such a loss was
minor to the wealthy status seeking family -- like the one Dannie had
obviously been born to.  Still, there was no way that Max could evade his
compliance in the young woman's death.  Had he allowed her to save him, Max
knew completely that whatever insight and instructions that the dying boy
had given the girl -- she'd have followed them blindly, regardless of the
consequences, because she'd successfully fulfilled her appointed task.
Dannie would only save herself if she could save another life as well.  The
truth in the dead girl's heart and soul was so evident that a blind man
would have seen it.  And yet, Max had raged that he'd not be denied -- and
now his rage had the blood it was seeking, but instead of Max -- his
terrible power had claimed precious Dannie.  And so here he was, hours
after the elderly RN had stumbled into the boy's room and finally managed
to explain to the boy how sorry she was that the girl hadn't survived, his
`friend' she'd called Dannie.  Yes, it was true; this beautiful angel had
indeed been Max's only friend, regardless that he never knew that while the
girl lived.  The elderly RN had run from the boy's room.  Others had come
looking for her and Max later overheard from a passing doctor that the
woman had tendered her resignation, rather than wait a few more days for
her full retirement.  The entire staff was baffled, but Max, who read
people so easily, had no problems understanding what had actually happened
to the elderly grandmother.  She fled, because she had no wish to watch Max
die any longer.

The following day, Max's tears had stopped, the boy simply waited for his
last breath to come and then go.  His breathing became more labored with
the days if not the hours.  The dehydration -- that no one could stop,
caused in part by the boy's constantly loose bowels, the unending vomiting,
the lethargy, the inability to keep any solid food down.  No his meager
lifeline now was the IV strapped to his frail body.  The doctors had told
him that such support couldn't sustain life indefinitely.  There was only
time left, and the clock would soon toll its last note.  And the boy
waited.  Then he heard steps, quiet steps, outside his room.  He sat now
only in the wheelchair his days spent by the bed near the door.  He'd never
once turned on the TV the entire time he'd been in the hospital; his major
past time had been watching the birds and flowers in the soon to be spring
garden below.  The occasional young lovers and families enjoying an
afternoon stroll.  But after Dannie's death -- the view was only unending
suffering for the boy.  A few times he attempted to endure it -- his trial
penance for the wrong he'd done the girl.  The boy failed, he was a coward,
he couldn't endure, and so here he sat alone waiting.  Quietly, a pretty
little candy striper walked into Max's room.  "Sir?" the girl asked.  Ha,
`sir' now was it -- Max was likely only 3 or 4 years older than this poor
little thing.  Max raised his head and looked back at her.  He felt certain
she'd become frightened like so many others and run off, but the girl was
made of sterner stuff than that.  Max recognized the light of resolve in
the girl's eyes, even though he did indeed sense the fear that all
creatures on God's earth share for the dying.  "This was left for you, Max"
the girl simply said, "I'm sorry that the family and staff somehow
overlooked it for so long."  The tender child with blue eyes and a hint of
green, it reminded the boy of Dannie somehow, placed the card in the boy's
frail hands.  When the boy made no attempt to pick it up the girl stayed
poised and frozen -- uncertain what to do or where to go.  A thought seemed
to come to the girl, "Do you know why Nurse Bennington left, Max?"  Nurse
Bennington -- that name seemed familiar -- ah yes, the kind elderly
grandmother with 12 grandchildren.  Max did his best to look the girl in
the eyes and nod in the affirmative.  She understood, "She left because she
couldn't watch you die, could she Max?"  So the girl knew all about all the
meetings the RN had with Max, oh well, why deny it now.  Max wearily looked
a final time into those pretty blue eyes with the hint of green and nodded
once again.  "Would it be all right if I read the card to you?" she asked
quietly.  What did it matter, a final word from his parents most likely,
lost in the mail.  The girl picked up the card from the boy's useless hands
-- at least she understood that it would be impossible now for Max to do
anything as energetic as holding up a card to read it.  The boy chuckled to
himself but it only came out as a weak coughing sound.  Waiting for the fit
to stop, the girl then proceeded to read the card, "To my dearest beloved
friend Maximilian.  Yes, I indeed know your full first name my friend.  And
no, there was no need for private investigators to learn such a simple and
open thing.  I'm lying in bed waiting for the doctors to come and take me
to the surgery, but I knew that I could never go unless I first took the
time to explain my choices to you Max."  Tears that were impossible burst
the dam of the dying boy's body -- the card was from Dannie, it was her
last words for him.  The boy began to crumple; surely he'd die now and be
at peace, because it would be impossible for his heart to beat even 50 more
times from this moment.  The boy once more moaned in the throes of dying
and the girl stopped to give him a moment to become composed, not realizing
that this was the boy's end.  When at last no more sounds could pass from
his body the blue eyed girl with the hint of green in her eyes continued
her oration once more, "I'm having the surgery Max, because there was never
a choice in this for me.  My parents, brothers and sisters, have always
been the bedrock of my life.  I've no doubt that you believe they forced me
into this, and yes the original idea came through their friends on the
medical board here, but I assure you with all my heart, Max, that my family
would have been just as happy had I refused the surgery or whether I
consented -- as long as the choice was mine alone.  All my life I've
watched the pain my disability has placed on my family.  It's not the shame
or embarrassment for themselves that they feel.  No, they've seen me fight
constantly to be recognized as a whole and capable intelligent woman and
watched in agony as others have ridiculed me behind my back or laughed at
my expense.  It was this shared pain of my life that my family has endured
for my sake which lead me to understand that I can no longer live with such
a burden."  Max was choking now, breathing was such torture, and the boy
just wanted release.  In his last moments, Dannie's words reached his cold
dead heart.  Dannie's family was not responsible for her death -- it was
the rest of the world that had failed to accept the precious girl.
Likewise, nothing Max could have said would have changed the outcome,
Dannie's decision was made before she met Max; she only postponed her
choice to allow for time to reach the boy.  Again the blue-eyed girl with
the hint of green started again, "If I don't survive this test of my life,
please don't grieve for me, Max.  My life was full and I leave with no
regrets, if God so chooses as to take me today.  No Max, it's a promise
from you that I desperately need.  From the moment I saw you there was such
a power of love in you that it almost blinded me that first day.  Yes, I
understand, they all look at you and see only the broken boy in a dying
man's shell, but I saw the truth and you couldn't hide it from me, Max,
despite how hard you tried.  You believe you're worth nothing and think
your life a sham, don't you Max?" the girl had a strange look on her face
as she looked back down again to the dying boy. "Is that true, Max?  Is
that really how you see yourself?" the girl asked.  Max was getting weaker
but for some reason it seemed like Dannie was standing there before him,
asking him these questions.  The boy's life was now laid bare -- there was
no escape -- the girl would tear all the masks away to get at the truth
buried and forgotten in his dying body.  "Maximilian `Dannie's voice seemed
to echo', you're not forgotten beloved, my friend.  You simply lost your
way while searching for your one true love."  True love?  What was true
love, Max had never known that particular emotion. "I see it in your heart
my friend, it's written in your dark eyes, and it screams to find your lost
one, the lost life, which also seeks you."  Someone loves Max?  That wasn't
possible because Max doesn't exist! "Again I beg you, Max.  If you'll not
promise for my sake, whether I'm alive or dead, then for the sake of this
lost love that needs you.  This life that will die without you, Max, please
spare yourself and find the one."  Max looked up and Dannie had tears in
her eyes, her cries were tearing the boy into a million impossible pieces.
-- Please Maxi - Find me, Max -- Save me, please... - Who was calling the
boy?  "MAX, YOU'RE LOVED, MY FRIEND!  NEVER FORGET, PROMISE ME!  FORGIVE ME
MAX, I NEVER MEANT TO CAUSE YOU ANY PAIN" almost those words were shouted
in the boy's now fractured mind. And then faintly as if herself dying and
fading away into mist, "I love you my friend, my beloved, Signed Dannie"
And just as suddenly she was gone and only the little candy striper with
the lovely blue eyes with a hint of green stood by the boy. "Ahhhhh" Max
groaned.  No, you can't die now!  It was a promise to Dannie, though the
girl had never heard the boy make such with his own voice.  She surrendered
her life for her loves, and yet you, sniveling coward -- you're going to
throw it all away and you've never bothered to find your love; to save a
love, another?  How did the girl see with such clarity?  In Max's heart he
knew she was right.  Long ago Max had been alone and afraid and he'd hidden
his life never once attempting to find fulfillment in an appointed task, to
bring value and meaning into an otherwise total waste of existence.  Yet,
precious little Dannie saw it all in a moment and still from the grave
she's trying to pull Max back from the brink of utter destruction.  "I have
to live..." the boy tried to say.  "Max?" the girl asked. "I HAVE TO LIVE!"
the boy shouted in his ragged voice and the power of the words startled the
girl badly.  "I don't understand? What do you want us to do?" she begged,
trembling now.

"GET THESE DAMN DRUGS OUT OF MY BODY, NOW!" the boy shouted as he tore the
IV from his arm suddenly.  The girl ran to the nurse's station and after
several hours the confusion began to settle down.  By the next morning a
troop of 6 doctors walked into the boy's medical room.  Max attempted to
stand by the window overlooking the garden despite desperate attempts from
nurses and orderlies to order the boy back into his bed or at least the
wheelchair.  "Max, we understand that you want the prescription drug
regimen stopped?" the lead doctor asks.  "Yes" is Max's weak reply.  "Son,
you were given that option 10 days ago, and I'm afraid that now it's too
late.  The shock would most certainly kill you despite any attempts we
might make at rescue while you're here in the hospital", another doctor
states.  "It doesn't matter.  I've already refused all medication -- that
includes IVs.  I'll be needing something to eat and drink from now on", the
boy all but demands.  The entire staff is upset -- this is impossible, Max
can't possibly live without constant rehydration, IVs, and such.  "Listen
hear, son.  You're under our care, you need to follow our instructions,
you've no choice now", someone at the back said to the boy.

"Am I here of my own free will?" the boy faces the staff and demands.
"Yes" is the weak reply.  "Am I an adult in full control of my faculties?"
Max asks now.  There's some argument on that point but the senior staff
doctor stops all discussion and steps in front of Max.  This was the friend
of Nurse Bennington -- obviously an ex army man here.  "Yes, Max, you're
certainly an adult and I believe you understand completely the choices
you're trying to make.  Unfortunately we can't allow you to do something we
think could be self-destructive.  Don't you see, son, the hospital is
liable in this choice now.  We simply can't agree to your conditions." The
old man seemed sorry for the words he had to speak to Max, but it was
evident that nothing Max could do would change his mind.  "All right then,
thank you doctor.  Thank you very much" Max said to all the staff
present. "If you wouldn't mind then would someone please call me a cab?  I
believe I have a plane to catch" the former boy stated as a matter of fact.
The mouths of everyone in the room fell open.  This boy was leaving?  He'd
be dead within hours, surely. "You can't do that!' the old army doctor
said. "I'm here voluntarily.  I'm an adult and thinking clearly -- you said
so yourself" said Max.  "Well yes, but you can't..." the doctor stammered.
"Sir I most certainly can and will and if you're not out of my way in the
next two minutes I'll be contacting our family attorney and suing your
precious hospital and staff as well.  What do you think is fair?  What
about 5 million dollars for pain and suffering to start with; and say
another million for kidnapping, and then a round 10 million for medical
malpractice?  Do you realize how often I was left to sit in my own filth
for eight to ten hours a day?" the young man smiled at the staff.  Everyone
quickly left the young man's room.  Max then reached into the closet to
pull out his single bag with everything he owned in it.  He'd already
reasoned out the hospital's response so everything was currently on
schedule.  Briefly the man swayed on his feet.  He really didn't know if
what he wanted to do was possible.  But he'd wasted enough of his life and
Dannie assured him his love was waiting -- out the -- somewhere, needing
Max as soon as possible.  One last time he stared out the garden window and
saw a vague shadow of Dannie sitting on a bench smiling out toward the
shoreline.  From the ledge, the young man picked up the precious card that
had saved his life and attempting to hold both card and bag started for the
door.  "MAX STOP. YOU'RE BEING IMPOSSIBLE!" said Evelyn the pretty
blue-eyed candy striper with the hint of green in her eyes.  "Evelyn, did
you know that you're almost as pretty as Dannie was?" Max asks softly.  The
girl laughs with that youthful voice you only hear in those that are
somewhere from 15 to 17 years of age. "Thank you, Max, but I knew Dannie
and we're nothing alike.  I'm a redhead in case you hadn't noticed" Evelyn
lashes back as she continues to laugh under her breath.  The girl takes his
back and pushes him down gently into the wheelchair for the ride
downstairs.  When she looks again at the card in his lap she pats the young
man on the shoulder, "I miss her too, Max, but you always know where to
find her" and then she pats the card and then pushes Max toward the
elevator.  Max is finally going home to a family dying to find their lost
son.

A note to reader's from the author: From the time Max left school for the
hospital until he finally was able to return to college to finish, it
actually only took Max 18 months, although to Max and many others it seemed
a lifetime had gone by.  From the initial collapse to the point where Max
was near death -- it had only been a total of 4 months.  Max was on the
drugs for near to a year while still attending college and before his
collapse.  Max's first month at home he almost died on at least 3 separate
occasions as his body went into physical withdrawal from the 12 medications
that had been basically forced on Max and that Max refused to take with him
causing an AMA discharge (against medical advice).  The family later
learned that the interactions from just 4 of the prescription drugs were
almost entirely to blame for the massive weight loss, chronic fatigue,
nausea, vomiting, loss of appetite and wasting sickness that plagued the
young man.  Despite Max's furious argument to the contrary the doctors
working with his family were forced to put Max back on 3 drugs (with his
family's permission) that would take the young man 2 more years before he
could be successfully and totally weaned off them.  On Max's first seizure
at his family home his mother cradled the then only 85 lb. fragile young
man as he lay dying in her arms from sudden withdrawal and shock that was
about to take his life.  The quick reactions of a family physician and
friend, who violated proper medical procedure, and the racing responses of
Max's father to get the desperately needed medicine into his son's body
before death could take him were all that saved Max that day.  Max made
attempts at 4-month intervals to return to school while still fighting
physical withdrawal.  The young man felt driven to follow Dannie's plea to
find the lost one that needed him, not knowing then it was Chris he was
searching for.  He failed the first two times to return to college because
he was physically incapable of making it on his own despite his firm
determination.  When the young man finally returned to school he then
weighed only 115 lbs. and stood just over 6 feet tall.  None of his former
college friends or roommates even recognized the young man, so different
was his appearance.  The bone disintegration/fragmentation that had
occurred from his medical ordeal could only be stopped not reversed.  Max
would never again be a 185 lb. virile 6 foot 2 inch man.  Likewise while he
did manage to put back on weight, by the time he met Chris he still weighed
only about 140 -- 150 lbs.  Max's eyes did regain their light hazel color
as Chris has mentioned on several occasions instead of the black that so
many claimed they were in the hospital.  Max was once a powerfully built
young man -- and that may be why even today at times he can still perform
exceptional feats of strength at great need, but to look at Max few people
would imagine such feats of strength could ever be possible.  Only Chris
truly understands just exactly how much strength Max is capable of.

A final sad note, though Max doesn't see it this way; years later, long
after Max had met Chris, Max's health would again begin a slow decline that
would lead to more medical testing -- though this time with more accurate
results.  Max was found to have a small but apparently slow growing brain
tumor and lesions near or on the hypothalamus.  Doctor's told Max that the
lesions and also apparently the tumor had been there since birth -- they
could give the man no definitive answers regarding how this condition would
affect him in later life or how it may have presented itself in his past --
other than to say his remaining years would likely be shorter.  Also, it's
now understood that these conditions were the likely cause of Max's
misdiagnosed condition during college that led to his near death
experience.  Further testing also indicated liver and kidney abnormalities.
The liver conditions helped explain why Max was often able to drink vast
amounts of alcohol and liquor with little effect as a young man -- and so,
how he managed to develop such a reputation as an `Irish drinker', able to
drink all comers under the table without succumbing himself.  Likely the
liver issues had also been there since birth since Max's drinking prowess
was already established by high school.  It was never determined if the
kidney damage was caused by the drug treatment during college or not.
Eventually, Max returned to near normal health after being stabilized and
now only occasionally has relapses from all these different medical
problems.  A new panel of 12 doctors recently told Maximilian that he's a
most rare and strange case, continuing to baffle medical understanding and
challenging to treat as a patient.  Last month, as of this writing and
after speaking with his love Chris, Max again refused all medications (they
had him again on over 13 prescription drugs) because it was his belief that
the drugs were damaging his quality of life and Max resolved to once more
defeat this problem and lay claim again to his world rather than be a
victim of bodily addiction to chronic medications.  As of this writing Max
is doing well and indeed seems better and his love, Chris, has stayed by
his side to give Max the encouragement to endure and emerge victorious in
his struggle.  Max only recently told Chris of the brain conditions and
both men understand fully that because Chris is younger and healthier a
point in time will come when Chris will no longer have his love Max at his
side.  Max's only comments on this are that he's finally getting justice
long overdue.  Chris says nothing about this and only comforts his love and
continues to hope for tomorrow.  Both men have started a new business
venture together; it's Internet and Trade oriented.  Chris spent years
learning at Max's side and Max is very proud of his friend, his love who
now is beginning a new joint venture for them both -- the first time the
two loves will work together side by side daily for a joint future of
satisfaction and joy that includes their family.  As the author of their
stories I can only wish them well.

And so our story continues...  His memories of the desperate dark past
leave Max weak clinging desperately to the wooden pillar.  "Dannie, be at
peace my friend for with your encouragement and guidance I've found the one
I think you intended me to find.  Please, Dannie, please tell me that
there's still time to intervene on his behalf" Max weakly cried as deep
sobs continued to sap his strength.  Finally, Max was able to bring himself
together -- once he'd again located the precious card from his past and
then put it in a new safe place where no one would ever find it.  After
once more looking in on the boy, Max then went down to engage Chris' new
school friends in brief conversation, quietly asking them if they'd be
interested in refreshments while they waited for Chris to feel a little
better.  The 3 young people immediately accepted Max's offering,
particularly when he seemed to indicate that he had no problem opening his
private stock liquor cabinet -- provided the drinking was moderate and
drivers would be found or cab fair arranged if anyone had more than Max
thought appropriate or if the boys and girl, in Max's opinion, appeared
incapable of safe travel on their own.

Within the hour, Chris managed to rejoin his new friends and Max.  The boy
seemed totally oblivious to what had occurred just an hour or so ago.  When
Chris first approached the group out on the private balcony off the living
room Max quietly asked the boy, "Chris, what town did you and Ben live in
when you were in school together?" Chris had a confused look on his face,
"I don't remember any Ben from school Max.  Could you mean someone else?"
Max briefly looked disturbed but then a calm smile came on his face and he
said to they boy, "I must have been mistaken, Chris.  I'm sorry, maybe I'll
think of the correct name later".  Chris just smiled back and then
proceeded to apologize to the group for apparently feeling briefly sick and
tired.  All three other teens told Chris not to worry about it; they'd all
had times just like this in their own lives.  Emily drew up particularly
close to Chris and told him quietly, "Chris, I'd be more that willing to
rub your back or just sit with you if that would be of any help".  The girl
slowly drew her hand up the boy's side and then moved it sensuously toward
the center of his chest drawing little circles with her fingers as she
went.  Their eyes met briefly and Chris saw wide-eyed anticipation echoed
in Emily's look.  Suddenly the boy realized that everyone else had stopped
talking and they were all looking directly at him and Emily, but mostly
directly at Chris.  Chris turned a slight red in the face and coughed
abruptly before quietly explaining to Emily that while he certainly
appreciated her offering she didn't need to do that for him, a least not
this particular minute.  Emily just winked at the boy and when she turned
around to apparently take a step back to the balcony edge her lithe body
slid momentarily back up against the boy's groin and chest.  "Oops, I'm
sorry Chris, maybe Max's refreshing cocktails were indeed more than I
should have accepted" the girl intoned as she pushed herself away from
Chris, her hand almost touching his groin as she did so.  Chris had no need
to look down to understand full well what was happening to his body below
at that moment, "Uh, hey I'm going to put on my swim suit -- I think I need
a cool dip in the pool.  If anyone wants to join me, Max can show you the
bathrooms or guest bedroom if you like".  The boy was almost running to his
bedroom now before everyone present saw what he couldn't possibly hide even
in a pair of designer jeans.

When Jason and Ted nodded to Max their agreement, Jason realized that Max
had been watching him.  Jason hoped to himself that Max hadn't been
watching as Jason had had his eyes locked on Chris' crotch for most of the
boy's encounter with Emily.  Max just smiled back at the boys and stepping
over with purpose lifted Emily's hand and asked if they'd all follow him to
the rooms inside.  Jason breathed a quiet sigh of relief but just as he was
following Emily and Max inside Ted abruptly jerked him back onto the
balcony.  "You don't really plan to make a move on him here and now, today,
do you Jason?" Ted's voice pleaded.  Jason smiled at his friend and
sometime lover, the cousin of his last girlfriend, Emily, and just winked
and said "If something happens to pop up I'm certainly not one to avoid a
chance at what appears to be a very LARGE opportunity for me, do you think
Ted?"  Jason hurried inside to catch up with Max and Emily who'd briefly
stopped while Ted did his best not to appear as angry with his friend as he
most certainly was just now.  Once everyone but Max had assembled in the
foyer, the group of excited teenagers made their way down to the deserted
pool.  They spent several hours laughing and diving and splashing around in
the water.  Twice either Emily or Jason or both would suddenly grab Chris
around the waist and start rough housing with the boy.  It took all of
Chris' control to keep his body in the proper proportions, at least every
time that it was Emily that was roughly grabbing at him, and then holding
on tightly to him.  One time Jason seemed to attempt a rough wrestling
match, but Ted suddenly crashed into both boys from the poolside and
knocked everyone in different directions.  After a few hours of this Chris
heard Max again calling him from the balcony and so telling his friends he
needed to see what Max wanted he grabbed his towel and rushed back up the
back staircase, one of the two apartment entrances.

Chris paused a moment at the apartment door to think about something that
just occurred to him.  Recently, Chris had only just started to understand
why Max seemed so attracted to him physically -- it was because of his
intense feelings for Chris, something that Chris felt in return at times
when he'd look at Max and he couldn't help wanting to just hold Max close
to protect Max like he knew Max was trying to protect him.  If Chris could
have truly understood these feelings, he might have been able to see that
it was so many previous childhood experiences that had caused him to feel
that way toward the protective and sometimes overbearing Max.  Chris had
always felt unloved by pretty much anyone in his life, but then Max most
likely understood that from the many letters and phone calls the two men
had exchanged over the previous year.  Unfortunately Chris simply couldn't
tell if what Max felt for him was real love or just intense lust. The way
Max kept denying his urges even when Chris didn't directly refuse Max's
advances gave Chris the belief that what Max felt toward him was indeed
some form of deep abiding love.  If Max had only been consumed by lust and
Chris had repeatedly refused to fulfill that need then Chris assumed Max
would just have looked elsewhere, eventually.  Yet Max never once tried to
abandon Chris. That made Chris begin to feel more guilt about how he was
treating Max now, because Chris was gaining so much from Max while Max
seemed to gain little from his love for Chris.  Chris somehow needed to
help his friend that he loved so deeply.  Other strange feelings had
recently started to surface too.  Once or twice when Max had aggravated
Chris, the boy couldn't help but get angry on occasion.  Anger was
something Chris had to be extremely careful with because anger could become
rage -- and rage in turn could become uncontrollable violence.  Exactly
like what would happen to his father when he drank too much and anything
could ignite his anger, which in turn became rage.  Chris knew that if he
ever lost control like that he could seriously hurt someone and he'd never
ever want to see his Maxi hurt in that way.  But still at least 2 times in
recent weeks he felt flooded with this desire to push Max down, to demean
him -- to make him beg at his feet.  One night he even awoke having had a
dream that he was raping Max and all the while Max was screaming that he
loved Chris and that it was Ok for him to do whatever he needed to do to
Max to satisfy his need for revenge.  It had sickened Chris and had
frightened him badly. It had been the day that Max walked in on Chris in
the bathtub.  Max knew that had shocked Chris, but he insisted on coming
into the private bath anyway. Then he even smiled down at Chris in his
embarrassment and put his arm around him in the tub -- Chris saw Max
looking at his genitals for some of that time.  Chris didn't react at the
time, he owed Max too much by then.  Later, when he briefly fell asleep out
on the living room sofa, that was when he awoke with that nightmare of
continually dominating Maximilian and then raping him over and over again.
Later on he pulled Max up against his chest and hugged him tenderly quietly
begging Max to please forgive him for even thinking such horrible things,
though Max never heard a single word.  Chris never had sexual urges toward
other men and just the thought or even dreams of such vile acts disgusted
him let alone the idea of doing any harm to his friend Max.

Chris opened the door and entered the apartment just as he came out of his
day dream and realized that Maxi had known the boy was standing just behind
the door and had been watching and waiting for him the entire time.
"Chris, do you remember my comments about your new friends from earlier
today?" Max asked.  Chris did indeed remember that Max had pointed out his
belief that not only Jason was attracted to him but possibly Ted was
harboring secret feelings for the boy as well, despite Chris' reluctance to
contemplate something that disturbing.  Slowly, Chris walked across the
living room to join Max at the balcony window looking down at the pool and
his new friends.  "What do I do about all this Max?" Chris pointed down
toward his new student friends.  Max just threw back his head and laughed
quietly like at some kind of private joke.  "If you want to be the man in
control -- the popular kid in the eye of the storm then you're going to
have to do exactly what they seem to fear most my friend"

Once again Max was talking in riddles.  Fear most?  "Ok, Maxi, what do they
fear most?" Chris pleaded.  "You won't like it, Chrisy" Max seemed to be
stating fact.  "Then just tell me plainly so there can't be any
misunderstanding!"  Chris demanded of his friend.

"First we'll need to use some of my industry friends again to feed a little
false information to Madame Vice President, who I noticed by the way seems
just as eager to get in your pants as the rest of the group".  Chris
started to blush again, the boy simply wasn't used to this much attention
from classmates.  All his past school experiences had, for various reasons,
kept the boy isolated.  Once a very small boy, Chris had gradually
developed into a very strong and fairly well developed boy from outward
experiences and after grade school his desire to compete and his enjoyment
of sports and competition had given the boy much more confidence in himself
than he'd ever had previously in his childhood.  He'd not really been
popular then, but the area he'd lived in with his mother was outside Texas
and Chris' mother's income was extremely low and the neighborhood they
lived in and the school district were mostly poor and lower class income
families.  The clothes Chris wore then certainly weren't the best, and at
his school the popular kids were the ones with power or money or those in
street gangs and organized crime.  Chris had been outside all of that and
so had few friends and even less desire to make friends in those circles.
Only his link to Max during that time had kept the boy's spirits up until
he was finally able to return to Texas.  Now in expensive clothes, with
only the best hair style and his body tan and with Max's education on such
topics as behavior and comportment, had left the boy excited for once in
his dreary life, because he thought he might actually have a chance to make
something of himself.  Max also drilled the boy with facts, as Max saw
them, like the point Chris was an extremely attractive young man, something
Chris doubted strongly, but Max continued to stress to the boy that only
his dress and mannerisms had caused some in Chris' past to ignore him or
dismiss the boy.  "You've got power and you need to learn to use it", Max
had argued.  In the affluent areas of Texas people were mostly interested
in appearances, money or power.  So some things never changed.  "Chris,
we're going to make Emily believe that not only does our `old family' have
more financial resources than her family does, but that `our old family'
also has the ability to buyout her family's resources if we happen to
become dissatisfied with anyone who runs in their circles."

"Are you kidding me?  You can really do that?" Chris was incredulous.

"As long as they don't look too closely; we need to make them afraid to be
caught doing exactly that for fear of financial reprisals.  This means,
Chrisy that you need to keep her guessing a little longer while I get our
friends to help, this might take a week or so to arrange.  Don't completely
evade her questions but keep throwing her vague answers that she can't pin
down.  If you don't know how to respond to some, make some excuse, and call
me and I'll give you the correct response, Ok?"  Max turned around briefly,
apparently finished with his instructions, but then turned back once more
with a sinister gleam in his eyes, "Oh, one more thing Chris. I think you
need to give Emily a little something extra -- beyond words to keep her
distracted for now".

Shocked for just a moment by Max's apparent willingness to see the boy
involved with other teens so intimately, Chris just replied, "Ok
Maximilian, but I don't like it.  You know how I feel about lying and
deception.  My old grandfather would have ripped me a new one for something
like this.  And you need to understand how uncomfortable it makes me feel
for you to keep forcing me to respond to overtures from other guys.  I'm
straight.  I understand how you may feel compelled to satisfy your desires
but that doesn't mean that I want to become part of that world" Chris
fought back.  "I understand, Chris, but we should only need to do this once
and then you'll be set for the next 2 years.  As far as facing up to what
other `guys' at your school want or any man for that matter that takes an
interest in you, please tell me what you purpose to do about things like
that?" asked Max.  "I don't want to do anything about it.  I just want to
ignore it until it goes away, Ok?" the boy responded in frustration.
"Chris", Max said quietly and then moved to put his arms around the boy
tenderly in a loose embrace, "You can't ignore the wants and desires of
other important and potentially influential people around you, not in this
world, my world, that you're now living in.  Those two boys out there
represent a lot of money, power and influence in this community.  They
won't be the only ones you're faced with or represent the only times that
situations like this occur.  You're a handsome, attractive, strong young
man -- and a lot of people here will see you and want to, in some way,
possess you.  It's the nature of this world, particularly a world of money
where you can buy anything your heart desires if you only have enough of
it.  I want to teach you how to fight back to make certain you're the one
in control of your life, instead of someone like them with the power and
money to take what they want from you."  The boy stepped out of Max's arms
and then looked off into the distance, past the pool where his new friends
continued to play and swim.  "I don't want to become just someone else like
them.  I can't be a bisexual guy and I won't be some type of queer" the boy
proudly remarked.  "Chrisy, I never said you had to become anything that
you don't want to.  I truly don't want you to do that either, but you've
got to face the world head on as it comes at you and learn to deal with it.
You can't simply ignore your fears of those things that your morality
objects to and then think they'll go away -- they won't" Max assured the
boy.  "Do you want to try and go home to live with your mother again" Max
asked Chris very softly.  "You know that'll never happen, Maxi" Chris sadly
replied.  "I have no home now.  If it weren't for you I'd be out on the
streets right now".  Once more Max slowly embraced the boy from behind and
hugged him like any brother might do and said, "Then let me teach you,
Chrisy, how to make these people fear and respect you so that you can
choose your own path in life, rather than have someone else force it on you
instead".  Chris thought over Max's words and understood that, as Max said,
in his world of affluence where Chris had no perspective there was little
the boy could do to oppose Max's directions, "Ok Maxi, I'll try to listen
and do what you think I should, but if you try and force me to become like
you are, then I may still have to choose to leave instead".  Max nodded to
the boy and tried to think on how to proceed in a way that would leave both
men satisfied.

"Ok, Max, what's next then" the boy asked the young man.  Max turned Chris
around and then using his hand he directed the boy's gaze deep into his own
eyes at eye level and said with determination, "You absolutely have to fuck
both Ted and Jason.  And then make them beg you to do it all again."

Just when Chris thought that nothing else Max could say could shock him
anymore -- Max would pull a fastball on him and knock the air right out of
his guts.  With his mouth too dry for speech, Chris croaked out "You want
me to fucking do what?"  "Not fucking `what', Chrisy, just fucking `whom'?
And it has to be Jason and Ted, both of them!"

"I can't do that Maximilian; you know I can't do that!" begged Chris.
"Sure you can, Chrisy!  Screwing a man isn't really that different from
screwing a woman -- it's still just a hole either way you look at it.  Just
think of it as some really nasty pussy and close your eyes.  Who knows you
might actually be able to get your rocks off for once, finally."

"And just when did you plan on my carrying out this idea of yours?" Chris
croaked again.

"Soon, but not tonight, maybe later this week; for now we'll invite
everyone up for cocktails.  They're from well off families so they won't
think anything about being offered something to drink by me.  Later in the
week we can invite the boys back for some `quality time' so please make
certain you've got both Ted and Justin's phone numbers before they leave.
Then, later in the week, when they come back to the apartment, and we have
them alone up here, you'll need to make your move fast, before they have
time to react to it."

"You're into all that, Maxi, I know you are.  Can't you just do this on
your own?  Please Maxi, I can't do this, please do it for me."

Max wrapped his arms cautiously around Chris once more.  Then he pulled the
boy's hand out and then pulled it slowly down Chris' chest, sensuously,
then across his abs and then finally carefully across his crotch and balls.
Slowly again, he took the boy's hand and dragged it gently across his own
chest from top to bottom; then down his abs, and finally down his crotch
and across his balls with just a light touch.  Chris just let Max guide him
as he wished, knowing that Max intended no sexual act, particularly since
Max wasn't aroused. "I still don't understand Maxi, what are you trying to
tell me now?"

Max looked deeply into the boy's eyes and then he said, "How did you feel
when your hand went from your chest down to your crotch?"

"It felt like it always does", replied Chris in puzzlement.

Max's eyes rolled up in his head -- he was getting upset with the boy now
because Chris was learning too slowly -- Max had that same look of
disappointment that he often did when the boy wasn't understanding what Max
thought should be obvious.  "And how did you feel when you ran your hand
down my chest, down my crotch?" Max directed.

The boy couldn't help himself, and so, as he leered slightly at Max, he
replied, "You felt kind of soft Max, and smaller.  Softer economy packaging
if you know what I mean."  Chris slowly smiled then since it was his chance
now to embarrass Max, to return the discomfort Max was causing the boy to
feel.  The ploy failed.

Max jeered back at the boy and replied, "Come on big boy, you know better
than that.  Tell me what the difference was -- you won't hurt my feelings.
I've never once tried to compete with you in that way."

Chris just sighed and replied, "Ok then, have it your way, Max.  You're
smaller than me.  My rod is a lot bigger than yours, my balls are bigger
than yours, my abdominal muscles can actually be felt and isolated, and I
have pectorals that make yours feel like the Nevada Desert."

"Ok, ok, `my Master' you really don't need to be that insulting you know!
The point IS those boys have both been lusting all over you, all afternoon,
so there's absolutely no way in hell that I could fuck either one of those
rich little pricks, without them immediately realizing it was all a con --
I'm not you, so getting them drunk or wasted on drugs and trying to appear
as you wouldn't work.  Plus, as far as I can tell, neither young man is the
least bit interested in me, nor could I control them as you can.  You
didn't exactly hide your hardware today.  They can't know for certain
exactly HOW big it will get, but they can defiantly know that it will be
bigger than..." And Max looked down at his own crotch for emphasis.

Max had a point.  There was no way Chris' even flaccid junk could possibly
be mistaken for Max's no matter how hard it was.  Chris' organ was thicker
and longer.  The one saving grace for Max, unknown to Chris, was that Max's
meat always got harder -- comes with the higher sex drive that Max was
definitely known for.

"Now that that's settled you need to attend to your guests again before
they get too anxious waiting for you" Max instructed his protégé.  "We'll
talk more after everyone's gone home and we have some time alone together
to work out the details."  Chris just blew all the air out of his lungs,
feeling his face to continue burning with embarrassment, and shook his head
while silently wondering if his new lifestyle and living arrangements were
really worth the pain and guilt.

Chris walked out onto the main balcony and called down to his friends
asking them to return to the apartment.  Within only moments, Emily, Jason
and Ted were walking in thru the foyer and into the living room with Jason
and Emily laughing about some private joke and Ted apparently sulking
behind them and closing the apartment door as he passed.  "So you've
decided that the three of us are just too much for you to handle alone in
that swimming pool I take it?" Jason suggested while cocking an eyebrow in
interest.  Then Emily interrupted, "No, silly, I can tell that Chris has
something new in mind.  Don't you Chris?"  "Hmm" Chris cleared his throat,
"There's likely to be kind of a crowd now that it's getting close to sunset
-- so I thought we'd do something a little more private up here if your
interested?"

Emily and Jason were suddenly very alert, only Ted was frowning about this
new possibility.  "Could you give just a little hint for a close new
friend, Chris?" Emily coyly asked as she childishly drew a lock of Chris'
dishwater blonde hair between her fingers and gently twisted it into a
curl, a small giggle sounding in her voice too.  "Ohm, I was just thinking
that we haven't really used the balcony Jacuzzi.  I know it's summer, but
Max has the heat low, most of the time in this heat, so it's just like a
cool whirlpool bath, except it seats four people easily", Chris proposed, a
small tremble in his voice since he felt certain such past times were too
common for his new affluent schoolmates.

Emily giggled and laughed with delightment now, "Oh Chris, that sounds
wonderful, I'd never have thought of it".  And Jason just walked over to
the boy and said, "A cold dip in the hot tub? For a Texan you certainly
avoid the heat a lot?"  Chris watched Jason's eyes go up and down his
entire body as he said those words.  "So we're all going to take a
whirlpool bath as a group?" asked Ted still frowning.

"Oh come now children", Max exclaimed as he entered the room, obviously
having overheard the conversation, "Young people together, with a few
refreshments courtesy of `moi', with all those cool jets and bubbles
coursing around your bodies, and you think this is something novel?"  Max
just chuckled and immediately the three visitors realized that, indeed, for
young people of their background novelty was nothing new.  "Oh no, Max, we
think it's a wonderful idea especially so late in the day with all this
`heat'" Emily stated, while she once again locked Chris' blue eyed gaze
with her alluring bright green eyes as she said emphasized the word `heat'.
Ted briefly perked up when Max mentioned more `refreshments' and asked,
"Mr. Borren, do you have anymore of that special Greek liquor you spoke of
earlier?"  "Oh dear, Ted, I guess I did mention that didn't I?  I don't
know, that's some very potent stuff and I'm not really certain if it's
appropriate for young people your age", Max seemed to contemplate as Ted
watched in eager anticipation.  "Max, I promise no one here will drink more
than you thinks' appropriate, and we came make certain everyone get a ride
home", volunteered Chris.

Max just laughed at the boy's attempt to placate his usual concern
regarding underage drunk drivers. "I'm sorry, Chris, I was really only
teasing you young people.  Actually I sent your chauffer home earlier,
Emily; since I saw no point in him waiting around for who knew how many
hours until you decided your visit was over.  I've already contacted the
staff here and asked for a driver to be available as soon as you wish to
leave.  I hope you don't mind?" Max requested.  "Oh dear, thank you Max,
that was very thoughtful of you" Emily smiled.  "Yes, Mr. Borren, you seem
to always have everything well in hand" remarked Jason, who now seemed
somewhat curious about Max's motivations.  "No problem, no problem, please
everyone go ahead to the balcony and get settled.  I'll bring everything
out to you in just a few moments.  Chris, your guests?" Max led.

Chris, understanding Max's hint, and grateful that Max's intervention had
spared the boy any possible embarrassment regarding his suggestions for
activities, drew the group out onto the balcony and led everyone around to
the Jacuzzi hydrotherapy / message spa.  The unit Max owned had hot and
cold hydrotherapy jets and of course the temperature controls had a fairly
wide range, plus, particularly after one of Chris' vigorous work outs, the
massage features were one of the advantages that Chris loved about living
in the apartment with Max.  When Chris first moved in, Max didn't own a hut
tub, but shortly after that Max purchased this unit and simply told Chris,
"Even though my long work hours don't really allow me the time I'd like for
these types of luxuries, I think we'll both benefit a lot having this spa
around, and with your continuous workout schedule, I believe this'll help
you stay in shape too, Chris".  Max wasn't fooling anyone, Chris completely
understood that this was something Max had only purchased because the boy
had moved in, and it was Max's way of trying to customize his home for them
both.

"Oh Chris, I haven't seen a spa quite like this one before" Emily
exclaimed.  "Ladies first, please" Chris indicated to the pretty girl.
Emily gracefully stepped up and into the spa, sliding gently down the
contoured sides and into one of the more intricate massage specialty seats.
She shivered minutely in the cool waters, then Chris activated the medium
massage settings with some added heat, and with the controls set to
accentuate the motion around the girl's neck, back and lower hips.  "Chris,
how did you..." the girl tried to ask.  "Shh" Chris instructed, placing a
strong finger gently across Emily's glistening red lips. "It's best if you
just forget everything and let it flow through you" the boy quietly
elaborated, while drawing his finger slowly around Emily's lips and then
softly across her jaw and down her tapered neck, withdrawing it just before
he touched those large shapely breasts that so mesmerized the young man.
"May I", asked Jason.  "Oh, I'm sorry guys I wasn't thinking, please
everyone else get in" Chris apologized.  Jason also stepped up and into the
roomy spa unit, followed by Ted, with Jason sitting between Emily and Ted.
All four seat had differing hydrotherapy and massage controls and after a
few brief questions Chris had all his guests relaxing in blissful cool rest
while the partially heated waters, acting like a thousand lover's tender
fingers, embraced all the young people and drew them away in a cloud of
euphoria.

After an unknown amount to time, "Pardon me everyone" Max disturbed Chris'
guests.  "Ted, per your request I have that special selection for you and
Jason" Max explained.  Both boys immediately setup straight in the spa to
receive the welcomed gifts of one of their hosts.  "Emily for you and
Chris, I've prepared something very different.  It's something that I think
you'll both like, just promise to wait until you've sampled more than one
sip before making up your minds; and `no', I'm sorry but the recipe is a
family secret I'm afraid" Max said apologetically and gave the attractive
young woman one of his most endearing smiles.  When Chris took his drink,
he glanced sideways to look in Max's eyes, and raised his brows in
question, but Max only smiled warmly back and indicated that the boy should
just follow his lead.

To Ted and Jason the drink was both powerful and very exotic, the flavors
that melded in their mouths were a combination of something like rare
fruits and spicy nut-like after hints all blended well in what appeared to
be a mostly clear sparkling liquid.  Immediately a strong warm flow spread
from the stomach outward to even touch their fingers and toes.  Both young
men sighed and sat back to further allow the hydrotherapy to work muscles
that didn't seem to need such care when they entered the spa, but now
craved every moment of it.

For Emily and Chris, the nectar like concoction that Max had served them
had blue and red colored elements swirling in an aromatic semi-clear liquid
with scents of mountain like breezes to its fragrance.  As Chris brought
the fluted crystal glass toward his face to drink he realized that another
totally clear golden liquid was floating on the top of the drink in a very
thin shining layer.  On the first taste of the golden fluid, to Emily's
tongue, the burst of slightly astringent flavor which immediately opened
her sinuses and spread throughout her taste buds was almost too
overpowering, but then instantly the cold blue/red liquors were cooling her
mouth, tongue and throat and bathing them in multiple tastes that came and
went so quickly the girl could never quit capture what the flavors
resembled.  Gradually Chris felt a glow drift over his body, seeming to
fall in gentle waves from the top of his head down toward his feet.  Emily
giggled as a lightheadedness made her briefly feel like she was flying.

Within just minutes, first one then another of the teenagers began to
giggle and then laugh in merriment.  All four were smiling and most had a
keen sparkle to their eyes as well.  Now Maximilian, their dedicated host
and sponsor, returned with more of the same drinks and also brought out a
light cart that was laden with strange looking appetizers that he assured
everyone would be like nothing they'd had before.  He promptly served each
teenager whatever they selected from the small buffet and then retired
again indoors only returning now and then to checkup on the group.  In
truth, Max knew full well that most everything on the cart, while prepared
to look slightly different, were in fact common foods that all three of
their guests had most certainly had before.  It was the special drinks he'd
prepared that would alter the tastes of the foods to the point that none of
the young people would recognize them, especially since they looked so
different.  Both as part of his business dealings and also in his private
life, Max had long ago learned the importance of using the exotic and
unique things like these specially prepared foods, drinks and other special
products to lower inhibitions and open up communications between various
people.  If it happened that the host had specifically avoided these same
items -- all the better since he was then one of the few people left in
full control of his faculties.  The gleam in Max's eyes as he made a final
trip onto the balcony should have been apparent to all the company, but
unfortunately for them and fortunately for Max his guests were completely
oblivious.

By now all four young people were in high spirits.  Chris was at once
excited, energetic and beginning to feel some hidden needs.  Emily was also
spirited but the constant merriment was beginning to take a toll, since she
was gradually becoming more thoughtful it seemed; the girl was also feeling
some form of attractions since she was now intensely looking straight at
Chris.  Jason and Ted appeared quiet and relaxed, but at this moment Chris'
was only thinking of green eyed Emily with her now mostly dry soft curls of
brown hair haloing her beautiful face.  Slowly the girls' lips parted and
just the tiniest tip of her tongue traced the inside edge of her lips.  A
gentle kiss of sensation began to emerge around Chris' fast growing cock as
the bubbles and jets continued the pleasant onslaught of his body -- even
as the girl's lips parted just so.  Then Emily's face spread wide on a big
smile and her green eyes were alight with desire.  Chris realized it was
Emily's delicate small foot that was teasing his erection with her toes as
she continued to smile and a wicked gleam appeared in her countenance.
From the center of his body a desire began to build in the young man, a
need that was almost overwhelming in its force.  Just as the boy felt his
body start to move toward her -- the little pressure below was withdrawn
and the girl smiled and lay back to relax, but never once took her eyes off
of Chris' body.  Confused, the boy sat down again in the contoured seat and
tried to regain his composure.  After a minute or two Emily's gaze drifted
out to the full night and she seemed to be dreaming of the stardust trails
of comet dust or meteors that from time streaked across the Texas sky.

Just as disappointment started to grip the boy the pressure returned to his
crotch, but with a little more force than before; and unable to stop his
body, his organ again began to swell, more rapidly this time and firmer.
As Chris watched Emily she seemed almost in slumber, but her secret
movements under the water were telling the boy of her desires and again his
passions started to burn hotter and hotter.  Suddenly the pressure was
building and the toes this time weren't as gentle, the boy feared that
something would happen in the waters that he didn't want to occur, not then
at least.  A little ill at ease, Chris let his gaze leave Emily in his
haste to regain control, and in that moment he looked across the spa and
saw Jason.  The young male guest wasn't smiling or frowning -- there was
just a look of intense concentration on his face and something else, it
seemed like lust.  Just as confusion likely showed on Chris' face, a small
smile parted Jason's lips and his eyes widened.  Like a slap, Chris looked
down below his waist at the raging waters and then saw the outline of the
leg connected to the foot; in horror he followed it and realized that it
was Jason caressing his loins not Emily.  Chris shot out of the spa almost
falling back off the top edge in his haste to escape, a loud gasp coming
from his throat as he found his footing.  "Huh", said Ted coming out of a
daydream and then looking around for the disturbance.  "What happened"
asked Emily as she too snapped back to the present.  "Sorry, I uh, I uh
need to take care of something" Chris croaked as he hurried back indoors.

Max was immediately beside the boy, the moment he came inside, as if he'd
been waiting.  "Chrisy, is everything all right?" asked the older man.  "I
uh, just need to go to the bathroom, I think, Max, I need some time" Chris
spoke in fragments of thought.  Just as the boy started to race off, Max
quickly but gently grabbed his elbow and stopped him.  Max stabbed Chris
with his eyes and pinned the boy to spot, unable to move. "Something
happened, something unpleasant", Max accused.  "Uh no, no, Maxi, I uh, I uh
just had too much to drink and I need to go to the bathroom.  That's all,
really" Chris spoke quickly.

Max still held the boy immobile and seemed to take in every single movement
and twitch of the boy's body, yet his eyes never left Chris' blue eyed
gaze.  "I think our guests should leave, now" Max said, "After your
weakness earlier today I think you've over done it tonight.  Why don't you
go lay down and I'll see everyone off and check on you later".  How a man
like Max, that was only slightly taller and had no where near the strength
and development of Chris' physique could so easily control the young man
was always an amazement to Chris -- but the powerful suggestion was too
much.  So Chris just nodded his head as a strange fatigue seemed to over
take him suddenly, and so he started moving toward his room after he told
Max, "Ok, Maxi, I guess you know best".

Max watched the boy until he made it to his room and closed the bedroom
door.  Max had wanted Chris to use these intimate moments with his new
group of friends to take the lead, but apparently Chris was still not up to
the job -- such controls of others was simply something the boy had never
learned and often seemed unwilling to even try.  The drinks and foods, the
spa -- all had been carefully thought out to allow the boy the maximum
opportunities to come to the front of the group, but it wasn't meant to be,
at least not tonight.  The thoughts of Chris' earlier collapse and concerns
about it became, again, Max's driving interest.

Picking up the phone Max called the dispatch center and asked that a driver
be sent around within 15 minutes.  Putting on a pleasant mask, the total
actor on the stage once more, Max walked out onto the balcony and explained
quietly that Chris had apparently overtaxed himself; he apologized to
Emily, Jason and Ted and begged their indulgence.  "Oh, I'm certain that we
were too much of a strain for him, Mr. Borren; I'm mean after his illness
this morning" exclaimed Jason, though Max saw the boy's sinister smile when
referring to himself.  "The guest room and bathrooms are at your disposal
again.  Please tell me if there's anything else I can do for you and I've
already called for your driver, he should be here shortly" said Max.  Emily
and the boys picked up their things and headed indoors to change.  Just
before leaving, Emily asked if she could check in on Chris before saying
her final goodbyes and Max reluctantly agreed.  The girl walked to Chris'
bedroom door and quietly opened it as Max looked on.  Chris was lying
peacefully asleep on his bed, with his swim trunks still on.  Emily walked
up to him and carefully pulled the sheet up to cover his handsome athletic
body.  Just before she walked out of the room she reached down and placed a
chaste kiss on his brow and then left.  Max shut the door behind her and
walked downstairs with his guests to bid them goodnight.

Just as the teenagers were entering the SUV that was parked in front, Max
asked to speak to Jason.  "Yes, Mr. Borren?" asked Jason.  Max pulled out a
small tablet he'd carried down in his hand and a pen and handed them to
Jason asking, "Please, just Max, Jason.  I believe Chris told me earlier
today that he needed to remember to get both your phone number and Ted's if
you don't mind?  He mentioned something about getting together later this
week; it had to do with the sport's programs at school".  Jason appeared a
little shocked at the sudden interest from Chris, despite the fact that Max
was the one asking, "No problem, Max, Ted and I'd be very happy to get
together with Chris about that".  Jason wrote some information on the
tablet and then handed it back to Max.  "I'm certain he'll call you when
he's feeling better, my boy, and set up a date to come over again" said
Max.  Jason just nodded and returned to his seat; Ted didn't seem to take
any notice of the exchange.  The driver closed the rear doors and then
stepped into the front and drove away as Max waved farewell to the three
high school students.  "I tried to tell that boy they'd be trouble" Max
sighed and then slowly walked back upstairs, into the apartment, and then
closed the door for the night on the outside world.

Walking quietly to the master suite, Max tore off the outside page of paper
from the tablet and folded it, placing it in a tray he kept on his dresser
for reminders, then set the tablet aside and walked back to the bed and
carefully began arranging the bedding just to his likely making certain
that everything was in just the right place.  He'd never properly washed
after work and so he stepped into the separate shower, with the clear
crystal like glass walls, next to the private bath and took his time
getting clean and just letting the warm rain of water drench his lithe body
and wash away his weariness of the day.  Gently he rubbed himself dry and
then put on the mild fragrance free deodorant he liked so much, the clear
dry stick gliding smoothly under his arms.  Then he picked up his favorite
imported cologne and gazed lovingly at the small golden colored bottle with
the prismatic azure colored cap as he slowly rotated it in his hand.  Once
upon a time he'd worn this cologne most everyday, despite the costs -- he'd
done so when he was working in the same office as the boy.  When Chris had
entered his life and had told Max how much he liked the fragrant smell, Max
gradually stopped wearing it, except when only Chris was around -- he meant
for it to be a small secret on his part, something special he could share
with the boy without Chris' knowledge.  He misted tiny amounts of the musky
odor with hints of expensive incense like overtones to it and an almost
undetectable floral bouquet, just near the wrists of his hands and a small
spray on his chest, then he recapped the bottle and combed out the still
damp hair.  The medium ash brown hair now fell in short curly like waves, a
fine luster to the coloring.  How unlike his hair when he'd been so ill
during college; and at this moment the medium hazel eyes appeared almost
comforting to him -- though he knew that was a lie, there was instead steel
underneath.  There were many things that Max now knew he had to do, if he
was to save this boy, his love, `the one'; unpleasant things, dangerous
things.  And tonight would be the second betrayal of the boy's trust in
him, but Max saw no other way to prevent the boy from falling under the
influence of more powerful individuals that certainly wouldn't worry about
his welfare as they sought to control him, to posses him.  The man hated
the thought of what he was about to do tonight, he was nearly petrified in
planning the events that he must do later in the week -- but his options
were just too limited and he knew that time was running out.  Chris had
apparently been near the breaking point for many months now, his mother's
hatred, his father's physical and emotional abuse, and all that buried fear
and trauma, from some unspeakable horrors, along with a shattered past.  It
was just too impossible to believe that the boy had survived even this
long, but the circumstances of his change in lifestyle, the pressure of a
new school, new friends, combined with the boy's punishing physical regimen
and his obsession to prove himself in sport's contests -- all this would
truly break him once and finally, beyond repair, soon.  It didn't take
Max's past talents to tell him this was so; the collapse tonight and the
reemerging blocked memories said it all.  One final time the young twenty
some year old man looked back at his own reflection and asked the person
opposite him, "Is this the only way, Max?"  The shadow reflection didn't
answer, so Max took that for agreement and walked into the walk-in closest
and put on some of his best clothes, but ones that appeared comfortable and
non-threatening, home like, in medium earth tones and with a pair of old
501 jeans that Chris had said made Max look almost of an age with the boy.

Quietly, deliberately, the young man strolled to the boy's bedroom door and
slowly opened it without making a sound.  Chris lay mostly on his back, but
turned just a little toward Max.  With the deep blue eyes hidden behind the
soft lids of flesh with the long blonde lashes and a look of peaceful bliss
on the boy's too perfect strong face, without any facial hair at all, Max
almost repented his plan and left the boy in his peace -- so child like was
his appearance.  Then a frown crossed the boy's face and he seemed to
struggle to fight some hidden foe, and then relapsed again into deep
slumber.  The clock was ticking and there was no time left, the clock rang
midnight in Max's mind.

Reaching out with his right hand, Max used his finger tips to pull the
stray locks of hair away for Chris' forehead and then placed the fingers of
both hands carefully around his face and called out to him.  "Chrisy,
Chris, wake up my love, you need to wake up for me now" Max called softly.
"Hmm" the boy mumbled and rolled fully onto his back.  As always the skin
of Chris' body seemed almost to glow to the man, no pores visible, not a
wrinkle or blemish anywhere to be seen -- sheer perfection.  The chest was
fully muscled and large for any man, especially a boy of Chris' age -- the
pectorals were items of longing just in reach, firm and round where
necessary to accommodate the musculature underneath the skin, with auburn
brown nipples that Max wanted desperately to kiss and run his tongue over.
The developed arms had emerging blonde/brown hair starting near the bottom
of the elbows and trailing in a fine carpet toward the wrists.  The hands
were things or true power, here alone the small crossing of veins was
evident, from the constant strain of daily exercise, and use of all the
power over and over again so many times during each workout.  Yet Max knew
those powerful hands could cradle the most delicate of objects, since their
touch was always graceful and cautious and tender, beyond the boy's years
to understand how to be so loving.  Lightly Max pulled back the white high
count Egyptian soft cotton sheets from the body, exposing the narrow waist,
swim trunks and legs.  Of all Chris' various body parts, his legs had the
most hair, here the blonde/brown hairs were longer, denser, and all had a
golden sheen polished to the maximum, encasing muscled strong legs that
were not as wide in proportion to the rest of the body as were the arms and
chest.  These legs, Max knew from experience, could run for huge distances
without tiring.  At one time the boy had been into track & field and cross
country sports, but then his body morphed from a more ectomorphic shape
into a true mesomorph form, with the powerful chest muscles and arms, the
broader neck and widening legs -- and so his coaches said he was just too
heavy with muscle to be a long distance runner anymore and also predicted
he would eventually be too heavy for most all the track & field positions
-- they told him to try out for other sports programs.  It was one of the
great disappointments of Chris' young life, a secret shared with his friend
and love Max -- when most people would have believed the boy was extremely
happy with all those muscles.  The waist was the boy's smallest body area,
in proportion, almost too small for his frame, but not freakish or
distorted -- just narrow.  The abdominals that always showed in a group of
six, but under strain could show groupings of 8, 10 or 12; they narrowed to
a point to connect with the small waist that was above those beautiful hips
and ass.  The glutei maximi, the outermost muscle of the three glutei found
in each of the human buttocks were like iron most of the time, used to
press huge loads of weight off the floor and also help propel them above
the boy's chest and head as he stood.  Max truly believed you could have
bounced a quarter off them and longed for his chance to do so, knowing a
fair test required naked flesh.

Briefly Max touched the swim trunks at the boy's waist, just dampness was
felt -- the boy's body heat had dried much of the moisture already.  His
left hand glided softly up the perfect abdominals, passing each ridgeline,
and cupped the breast as it passed over the magnificent chest, following up
again to the strong graceful neck until it came to rest against the boy's
golden glowing left cheek.  "Love, wake, you must awake, Chrisy, we have
things to do, beloved" Max almost cried in agony so great was his longing
now for the joining of flesh to flesh.  A sigh passed Chris' lips and
slowly the blue gray eyes drifted open, weakly taking in the dim room light
and Max's form above him.  Max kept the left hand with the fragrant wrist
on the cheek, not far at all from the boy's sensitive nose and sense of
smell.  Chris took in a deep breath attempting to rouse himself and Max
knew the intensely strong liquors still flowed in the boy's body -- not
once since those drinks had the boy urinated, Max had kept track of that.
As Chris inhaled, Max also knew the cologne would gradually track into the
boy's senses, and as predicted Chris seemed to relax even while trying to
awaken and Max understood that the aroma was working it's magic on the
boy's spirit -- increasing his trust and his remembrances of love.

"Maxi, have I been asleep too long" asked the trusting boy.  "No love, but
there's a problem and I need you to come with me now, please, just do as I
ask -- you're safe here at home" Max replied, betrayal echoing in every
word as it passed his tongue.  "Ok, Max, I'm coming just wait -- I feel so
strange, like I'm in a fog or something" Chris yawned as he spoke.  "I
know, you did too much today, even a strong guy like you has limits, bubba"
Max intoned to the younger man and drew him up into his arms and out of the
bed, to turn him, guiding him gradually out of the front bedroom, down the
long hall and into the master suite.  Chris just stumbled in front of Max,
while Max steered him from behind until they reached the king sized bed of
the master suite.  "Here, bubba, just lay down here and relax for a time"
Max droned in the boy's ears.  Chris obeyed like an automaton and climbed
groggily into the bed and lay on his side near Max, as Max sat down on the
side of the bed facing Chris.  Max noiselessly pulled out some damp linen
and placed them in a careful prearranged place for later.  "Turn over on
your back, love, just like this" Max ordered and Chris slowly obeyed while
Max used his hands to guide the boy.  "Your still in these wet trunks,
Chrisy, so we need to take them off and then you can cover up with the
sheet, alright?" Max asked softly.  At first the boy mumbled an attempted
reply and then was totally silent, taking that as consent Max carefully
drew the swimwear down from the boy's narrow waist, slowly, cunningly past
the lower abdomen, past the pubic hair, without disturbing the handsome
genitals and then all the way off the boy's legs and past his feet.  Max
lovingly folded up the trunks and placed them on the night stand beside the
bed.  Then he further dimmed the bedroom lamp on the same table.  In the
pale light he briefly looked at Chris' penis, testes, groin and pubic hair.
The boy's majestic manhood, the massive trophy of his masculinity, was
fully displayed.  Max knew all about the boy's fear of doctors, and that
he'd gone through puberty far earlier than his peers and so suffered great
distress, he'd talked to Max about much of that during their lengthy long
distance phone calls, but Max also knew that the boy wasn't ashamed anymore
of his body and the simple act of displaying his naked form with those he
trusted or loved hadn't been an issue in some time for Chris.

Tenderly Max covered the boy's nakedness and then arranged his body gently
in just the perfect way on the large bed while also placing his own in the
correct position beside the boy, touching him -- his skin where it touched
Chris' skin was charged with electricity.  "Chrisy, can you listen to me
now?" Max asked.  As if from far away Chris seemed to mumble an
affirmative.  "I never told you, love, but I used to practice hypnosis as a
parlor game with my friends in college.  Did I ever tell you that?" Max
almost pleaded.  "Hmm, noo, dddon't think soo.." Chris seemed to moan.
"You've been under a pressure for a long time, my love, and I need to
release some of that now.  Do you understand me, Chris?" was the forlorn
man's reply.  "Umhmm" was the boy's response and he rolled slightly more
toward Max. As the boy rolled toward him his face and nose fell across
Max's hand and wrist that had been lying next to the boy's head.  As the
boy breathed in and out his voice softly echoed in the living world, "Did I
ever tell you that you always smell so nice, Max?"  "Yes, beloved" the man
cried as a tear burned down the side of his narrow face, to drop from his
cheek to the boy's strong arm below.  "Love you, Maxi" the boy said in
slightly slurred speech as he continued to drift near sleep, but the scents
of Max and the room were now binding him on the edge of waking.  "I love
you too, Chrisy" the man choked out, and then went on, "Do you trust me,
Chris?"  "Umhmm" the boy nodded lightly.  "I'm going to attempt hypnosis,
bubba; do I have your consent to try?" Max's heart was breaking now -- the
betrayal very close at hand.  "Trust youuu" was the only hollow answer he
got.  Max bowed his head.  He had the boy's consent, though it was given
under the influence of alcohol, the boy's sensitive senses and the intense
magnetic power of love; that's to say it was all coerced, not done in full
mind and body.  Max had to proceed now, and in doing so begin the
corruption of the boy's spirit in order to save his physical body and mind;
a corruption that would continue into the distant future, unbeknownst to
either man.

Max drew the boy's body into his embrace, gently, quietly, softly, tenderly
-- all the while speaking in a droning voice that told the child to be at
peace, he was loved, he was wanted, and he was protected.  And again tears
fell, bitter tears of grief, and walked across the man's face and down to
the boy's body; and still Max continued the droning conversation until he
was certain that the child now completely trusted him and was his vessel to
fill with whatever directions and instructions that Max wished to give, so
long as they didn't break the center of Chris' being -- his true self's
pathway.  Most people don't understand hypnosis.  You can't force a
peaceful man to commit murder -- you can't make another do something
`totally' against their will, but you can make most people act like a
chicken.  It's possible because they trust you and doing as you tell them
isn't against their will in that case, while it's silly or unpleasant,
their trust in their director allows them to follow the instructions.  What
Max now planned was such a thing, while it was something the fully awake
Chris, in his healthy body, would have rejected, the loving tender child in
his arms now simply wanted to please his protector and be faithful to his
trust of him and love for him.  This was the worst kind of betrayal, even
worse than their first night together, because that boy, though also
inebriated had enough control of his mind and body to understand what he
was doing; this child was lost in love at this moment -- he'd given control
to his protector and so was unprotected.

Max now changed to songs that he sang in monotones into the boy's ear.
Within the song he placed a question, "Chrisy, you're a virgin aren't you?
You've never had sex with an adult, either a man or woman since you've been
a grown up?"  They boy simply nodded his head in the affirmative -- to both
questions though Max only gave him time to answer one.  At this point the
boy's body had become rigid, unmoving, if Max had ordered Chris to extend
his arm and told the child it had become steel -- then no amount of Max's
physical strength would have been able to bend the limb, no matter how hard
Max could've tried to move it; one of his `parlor tricks from the past'.
Also, while Chris had said that his father's girlfriend had had sex several
years ago with the boy, Max understood that the boy didn't see himself as
grown up at that time, despite what the woman may have felt or believed.
Though Chris didn't go into much detail, Max was certain that the woman had
only given the boy oral stimulation and that they had not had intercourse
since Max believed Chris incapable of such an act at that age, despite a
willing organ.  For all these years, just like tonight with the other
teenagers in the Jacuzzi spa, the sexual tension in the boy had been
building, probably since early childhood -- in many such cases, Max
understood that no amount of masturbation or fantasy sexual stimulation
could ever release the pent up urges and desires arising in a boy like
Chris -- that would almost always require outside intervention.

One last time Max changed the song, this time to one of the body's desires,
the poetry of longing, and the urges of passion to finally join with
another life and experience true release.  Slowly Max softly stroked the
boy's chest and nipples -- never once kissing, never tasting for himself
the boy's skin or shape beneath it.  As his hand and fingers worked he
could feel the power beneath them building gradually, seeking an exit from
the cage of the physical body.  Now he gently pulled the sheet away and
left Chris' body completely exposed to the cooling night air.  Years Max
had spent seeking to understand the needs and `urges' of the body,
particularly those of sexual desires and cravings and looking for
fulfillment.  His past talents told him about the boy's tension and
building pressures -- he saw it easily in the boy's interactions with his
peers and during their frequent trips out together to restaurants, clubs,
theaters and other places and with other people.

Now his hand had moved onto the boy's abdominal muscle groups, lightly
probing further and further and using touch to stimulate the skin and
muscles beneath, while Max used his other hand to massage the boy's neck,
chest and arms.  The key was to bring intense relaxation along with strong
physical arousal -- most people would think such concurrent feelings a
contradiction, but they'd be wrong, it's not only possible but desirable
for such a combination in a young person as stressed as Chris was, with
current desires and past pains.  Also using only the stimulation of arousal
alone would likely risk breaking the trance that Max had induced and would
not bring peace and release.  Simultaneously Max's monotone singing of
words continued to speak of arousal and desire but now included
instructions to the child in the release of burdens, in drifting in dense
cloud cover, talking of the hands a young girls caressing the boy's entire
body and reminding the boy of the power of water and currents, that can
also carry away all the past pain and weariness from his body.  Max's hands
were now strong tools of his choosing, the boy's body was being molded
gently, tenderly into a new shape and the heat of desire kept building up
in not only the nether reaches of his flesh, but also in the center of his
being.  No longer rigid in trance, the lips were slightly parted, the
breathing had increased tempo, while the body now began to sway at times --
everywhere that Max touched the response was absolutely charged with need /
electric, hope / scintillating, and compassion / joining, warmth / love.
Max felt his own body longing for release with his love, to be one in body,
spirit, soul and impassioned, but Max rejected this utterly -- this was for
Chris, not for Max, and so he told himself this was a selfless act of mercy
and salvation.  Soon the betrayal would be complete.

Max had now begun to also reach down and across the boy's body to
experiment with the child's legs and feet -- another key area of sensation,
and still continue to work the upper body and also sing the monotone words
of the song of release, relaxation and arousal.  Then slowly his hands
drifted toward each other across the long depth of manhood placed before
him until they both reached the center of the boy's need for discharge.
Now one strong, tender hand used fingers of longing and lust to stroke the
fires of the child's body and to center them around his large penis and
testes.  At this time the craving for release was nearing the breaking
point in Chris' body and Max once more doubted his true intentions.  For
months this had been his chief physical desire -- he dreamed of this chance
often and had been wet with the passion upon waking from those same dreams.
Now he was openly participating in his desires and the current connecting
him to his love had almost overcome all his barriers of logic and
compassion. His touch of Chris' widened cock, so long and large, straining
for the release was like hot feathers, caressing and centering the building
tension of the boy's body to a fine point now.  His other hand had worked
downward from the chest, to the abdominals and now to the top of the pubic
area at the base of the massive cock -- as if Max could pull the nectar of
life from Chris' body directly by invisible strands leading down and into
the reproductive system of the child / this man child / this boy who was no
boy at all.  Nearing the end now, Max used both hands at times, then
separately, then stimulated the glans of the penis, the point with shining
drops of silvery liquid trickling down from the tip and used that also to
again enhance the sensation of touch to what would have been agony for a
man in wakefulness -- but was just passion in a boy drifting between dreams
and glory.

And then with a final touch to the tip -- Max withdrew his hands and sat
back continuing his song, but now only telling the boy to, "Let go, Chrisy,
go inward and down, down deep to the center of the well of your power.  Do
you see it, my love, the blinding power of your manhood -- this ocean that
surges and begs for release?"  Finally crying openly, unable to stem his
guilt knowing the betrayal had arrived, the young man picked up the heavy
boy's body of strength, which somehow felt lighter now, and caressed his
golden soft hair as he crushed the boy into his sobbing chest and placed
his mouth against the boy's right ear.  "I'm going to count to three, my
love, and as I count all your fears will be lifted away, away.  As I count
the ocean of your body will rush forward and thru your penis, its flow will
be released.  Our love, our trust in each other will bind us together and
at last we'll be one and this is our spirits, Chrisy, not our bodies.  Just
let it all go and trust me now.  When I begin to count and say the word
`three' you must open your eyes and trust me, then release and let it all
go, my love" Max had stopped his tears now, because he couldn't afford them
when the boy looked directly into his eyes; the eyes of a traitor.  "ONE"
and now Max used his left hand to direct the blood flow in his love's cock
toward the tip, while with his right hand he slowly eased the boy's head
and shoulders down onto the soft mattress top again. "TWO", as Max added a
strong persistent stroking of the boy's penis and used his thumb to rub up
and over the lubricated tip -- red now from the pressure that built in the
boy's manhood beyond his ability to stop it.  With his right hand he cupped
the side of the boy's right cheek and face in preparation for the shock
that would occur now, the point of no return -- the release -- the betrayal
-- the awakening".  "THREE", instantly Chris' now ice cold blue eyes flew
wide open and were instantly locked on Max's face above him, his lips
parted as if to begin a scream of terror, but instead a cry of joy "Ahhhh"
and sorrow and freedom erupted from his mouth.  Semen shot into the air and
splashed the king sized headboard of hardwood, mahogany, and again and
again the warm fluids drenched everything around both men.  Max moved his
left hand only just so much to aid in draining the pressure and fluids from
the boy's now ravaged body.  With the right hand Max tried to feed love and
kindness and also to ask forgiveness for the dawning horror and grief he
saw in his love's eyes.

Chris was wide awake now -- all the alcohol long since burned from his body
by the true heat from his passions, and the ice blue eyes held a clarity in
them that the young twenty something year old man had never seen.  Max
reached down beside them both and pulled forth the damp wash clothes that
he had reserved for this moment, filled with mild floral scents of soap and
cleanliness.  Max first wiped all traces of cologne from his chest and
wrists, then he gently began to clean Chris' body of all the fluids that
had spewed forth in those gushing waves.  When one cloth could no longer
clean properly, Max calmly set it aside on the nightstand and gently
continued with a fresh one to wash every trace of betrayal from his boy,
his love's body.  Once the boy was clean and the surrounding sheets under
him also cleansed, Max discarded the soiled top sheet and pulled a new one
up to Chris' chest and continued on to clean the headboard and everything
else in the room that was wet with shame.  Once he too was cleaned, with
only the scent of soap on himself, Max again sat down and placed the boy's
hands in his own and looked directly into Chris' eyes that were beginning
to fade to gray.  Not once did Max show tears, to the boy, not once did he
show guilt or fear -- only determination and sadness.  When the two men,
one on his back naked but draped and the other fully clothed and sitting,
had faced each other for several minutes in quiet reflection, and their
gazes locked on one another, Chris asked softly, "Why?", the question
reverberating with confusion.

Max's face seemed so sad then, to Chris, but a gentle smile came across his
pink lips though it never spread up to encompass his hazel eyes.  Then Max
briefly dropped his gaze and carefully, slowly bent down and placed a light
kiss on the boy's fingers and then looked up and away for a moment before
answering, "You `were' a virgin, Chris.  A man that has never had adult sex
with anyone; a boy that was sexually afraid of everyone, and there's still
some kind of horrors from your past that you won't face and that I don't
know anything about yet and so I can't help you.  I could've simply kept my
distance and encouraged your growing attraction to Emily or another such
girl, but all such women around here would've sought to own you, and your
too weak in that way to resist them.  If they'd tried, you'd have submitted
to their control of you.  You would've been used and eventually discarded,
in your current state I don't think your mind would've remained whole, I
think it would've destroyed you.  What I did, what we did here tonight, you
consented to and you let me guide you.  I'm sorry and I ask for you to
forgive me, but I wouldn't change what I've done if I could.  The first
night we were together, do you remember that you never ejaculated?"  Chris
looked ashamed of the memories but nodded his head, he remembered
everything about that night -- the night they both acknowledged their bond,
no matter that they saw it from two totally different perspectives.  "You
couldn't have an orgasm because you were in bed with a man.  You just don't
want to be with men, that's obvious" Max continued.  "While I brought you
the release you required, I didn't share my body with you, and although you
haven't talked about it -- the simple fact that you climbed into my bed
that night informed me that you've been with other boy's before, if not
recently then in early childhood", Max explained.  Chris' mouth opened in
surprise, but he knew he couldn't lie to Max, not now, so he simply said,
"There were some boys long ago, but for some reason I don't remember them
-- I just know enough to say that I guess we experimented, that's really
all I think that happened".  That was enough for Max to finish his
conclusion, "By only helping you release these burdens and these `urges' I
think the danger for you has passed for a while at least.  I'm sorry,
bubba, I didn't mean to betray your trust in me and I wouldn't blame you if
you never trusted me again, but I won't ever let anyone claim to own you
and I promise that I'll protect you always".  Max words about `urges' and
his statement regarding protection together sent shivers down Chris' spine,
and he vaguely heard a little boy's voice say in his head, "all men have
urges and there ain't always pretty girls around... I'll always watch over
you and protect you or God will punish me".

"I forgive you B...Maxi" Chris stumbled as he responded to Max's
explanation for what had happened.  Quietly Max stepped off the bed and
picked up all the dirty laundry, and walked toward the walk-in closet to
place it in the hamper there.  While he stood there he knew the boy was
watching him, and calmly Max took off all his clothes, now soiled, and
placed them also in the hamper before closing the lid.  Walking to the
bedroom's balcony door, Max pulled back the curtains to permit the summer
moonlight into the room, then he walked back to the bed and climbed in
beside Chris, both men were naked now, but that wasn't the point Max was
trying to make.  Once in bed, Max reached over and turned out the light,
then rolled onto his back and watched the moonbeams as they drifted into
view on the bed linens while his eyes grew accustomed to the dark.  A tear
gradually fell down the young man's cheek closest to the boy, its quiet
sparkle showing clearly in the moonlight as it traced a lonely path from
his eye to his neck.  Then a strong, warm, large and gentle finger reached
from the darkness and wiped the tear from the man's neck and also wiped
away the trail running down his face.  The large hand then reached up and
pulled the ash brown hair away from Max's face and then came to rest upon
his breast -- there it remained.  Max closed his eyes and sighed in longing
and relief, his love wouldn't leave him for this second betrayal, his
greatest fear in his endeavors.

"Thank you, Maxi.  Thank you for keeping me safe" the boy stated.  It was
too much now, he couldn't hide his guilt any longer and so the man began to
sob quietly in the dark.  The powerful boy reached out and pulled Max to
him, he cradled the thinner man against his naked body, against his chest
and like the past, again wrapped his arms around Max in comfort.  Sometime
in the past, someone else had comforted Chris in this way -- it's what gave
the boy his understanding of Max's need at that moment, or what the boy saw
as his need.  As the man slowly released his own inner pressures and pain,
Chris continued to hold him in place and quiet him by whispering in Max's
ear, "I'm here, Maxi, I'll protect you, you don't need to be afraid".  It
would be years before the boy ever learned the truth, Max's tears were
because the boy had indeed forgiven him, continued to love him and only
wanted to give protection and comfort to the man that was his greatest foe.
The betrayer, the traitor, the savior; that much of the past, present and
future was revealed in that quiet moment of night with Chris, to Max.

`Dannie, beloved, he's here, I promise I'll find a way to save him, but I
can only do it with betrayal - I see no other way.  Dannie, did your
visions foresee this future for me?  Am I going to become everything I've
ever hated in my miserable life, a man who can only be loved thru betrayal?
If he saves me, Dannie, what will be his cost in doing so?  Dannie, help me
please!', these were the thoughts and prayers crying in Max's mind that
night and they would continue to do so for very many years.

A final note as I close this chapter, dear readers, will the boy save his
betrayer and in doing so doom himself forever?  Who is `straight' and what
is `narrow'?  So many of you ask if there can ever be a happy ending here;
you now have all the clues that need to answer those questions and more
with these first four chapters.  There are many more to come, but the
corruption Max fears has started and as all men know it's easier to corrupt
than to cleanse.  The true EROTICA now begins, but the truest part of the
story, the meaning -- the message, is for now suspended, and for that, dear
readers, I'm very, very, sorry.

*** End of # 4 ***

Continued...

Footnotes: What can I say about Chapter 4?  Max, the real life person
behind the character, didn't want much of these works in this story
printed.  He felt it would make the story one that was more and more about
the individual of Max, though he doesn't mind the same kind of light
showing on the person of Chris, to which Chris the real person has
graciously consented though it brings him great pain.  Max has said all
along that who and what he was and is are obvious enough without the `pity
parade' of past events.  I'll continue, as a new writer, to try and ply my
abilities in the effort to satisfy my readers -- so long as I'm not asked
to betray my characters, their message or their history.  Please write to
me and tell me if this much less EROTIC chapter was worthy of inclusion in
The Story of Max and Chris, or if you think the tales should only discuss
the more vivid and lively part of their story.  Some readers had asked me
to try and direct my efforts toward an inclusion of much more `creative
Fiction' (in other words they wanted me to start making most of it up and
stop trying to be a historian).  In the original version of Chapter 4 --
the last 1/3 of the original works were exactly that, EROTIC, FICTIONAL,
SENSATIONALIZED.  Maybe I'm a way too confident here, but I honestly think
it would've had many of you slobbering uncontrollably.  And then I met, in
person, together with the modern day Max & Chris on a ranch in Texas where
one or both now live, that was on the 4th of July, 2009.  Long story short,
though it cost me a lot of time and work, I decided to `destroy' 13 pages
of my efforts and go back to scratch.  I'll leave the total `creative
Fiction' for one of the future stories I plan to try at a later date after
completing The Story of Max and Chris.  WARNING: Chapter # 5: Confronting
the Shadows of Terror, will be posted as "FICTION".  This does NOT mean the
story is entirely untrue -- it's indeed mostly true.  The reason for this
classification is because much of the story in Chapter # 5 is based on a
multi-person drug trip.  The only way I know to convey the feelings and
memories of such an experience are thru symbolism.  It's the symbolic
nature of the story that caused me to label the work, "FICTION".  OK, Ok --
I heard you the first time, so let me repeat myself again.  The person that
the character that `Chris', `Max', `Dannie' and `Ben' (and some other's
like `Ted' for example) are based on did indeed come from real life people
(persons) of whom some, but not all, are still alive today (yes, people
died, it happens in life).  One such individual resides on a ranch in Texas
north somewhere of Austin, while other(s) reside in or near large urban
centers of populations in Texas east/southeast of Abilene somewhere (I
think).  Additional warnings about Chapter # 5: Confronting the Shadows of
Terror.  Please be aware that from this point forward the feel, direction
and purpose of the story will be unsettling and new for many of my readers.
Alas it's entirely because this is what occurred in the past, and though
both men deeply regret much of this time -- still it is what it is, the
past, their lives together, and so it must be part of the storyline.  Some
of you may rejoice in this new found vulgarity while others will mourn the
apparent loss of innocence and love that now begins to appear.  I simply
ask the later group to adhere to the tenets of patience and wait, because
eventually love will win as it so often does in real life.  One final very
difficult note for me.  I received some very disturbing news from Chris
about something involving Max, that unfortunately I can't share at this
time.  Let me say only this -- all stories have their time and all loves
their losses; no man is an island and nothing lasts forever.  Chris and Max
appear happier today than I think I've ever seen either man appear before,
for that simple fact we're grateful.  When the time is right and when my
two real life people permit me to share -- I'll tell you their news and
then you decide how things should go from there, though the story must
inevitably follow the path laid before it -- even until its very ending
(however that may come to pass).  We (Max the character, and I, Max Borren
the writer) get lots and lots of emails from folks wanting to know more
about the true physical appearance and attributes of the real life person
that the `character Chris' in the story is based on.  With the real life
`Max's help we put together a description and I've been forwarding that to
various readers (you know who you are) that are based on six publicly
available photos (I don't own them) that can be downloaded (not sure of
legal issues there, but anyone can get them from the Internet).  To try and
prevent further onslaught, I've decided to post the emailed description
below this footnote, since I didn't want to put this large a block of text
imbedded into the story -- that's just too much.  Again if you want the
photos and you sound legit, I'll consider letting you know how to get them.
Please bear in mind that the emailed description was sent to the last
reader we shared it with, `Jacob', which is why his name appears several
times in the posted description (I'm too lazy to rewrite something that
isn't really part of The Story of Max and Chris).

**** Description of the real life person that the `character Chris' is
based on ****

FROM: Max Borren the writer TO: `Jacob', a reader

Jacob, some of the 6 pictures may seem very different from one another, but
as I said `Max' collects them because a specific part of the body of each
young man reminds him so much of `Chris' when he was in high school or his
early college years.  I'll not advise you on which parts of which photos to
use, but if you read my stories well enough, you can easily figure it out
on your own.  'Max' speaks frequently of `Chris' features in the stories;
his eye color, hair color, `Chris' chest / arms / legs / genitalia /
abdominals so it really should be fairly straight forward. 

Still I guess I can pass along some brief personal insights (from `Max') to
help you along the way.  The boy's face was always the hardest feature of
the boy's looks for `Max' to ever describe clearly.  `Chris' was a young
man whose face captivated everyone.  I mean literally everyone; boys,
girls, women, men - `Max' saw all these types of people frequently watching
the boy equally mesmerized and it made `Max' extremely jealous and caused
his lust for this young man to grow ten fold at least.  To those who looked
at him his looks seemed somehow exotic (as in special or rare not freakish)
- something so impossibly unique, but you could never tell what that was,
he was/is a young man of obvious European/Northern European descent, yet
when one looked at his face he had this ability to capture your stare and
hold it especially when he smiled, then your entire world was awash in
brilliant light and joy.  His face was strong, but youthful, vibrant and at
times so tender your heart would break just from one look especially if
those varying mostly deep blue though sometimes graying eyes locked on you
also - that was the most dangerous for anyone looking at the boy, because
`Max' never saw any person with the strength to break that hold when it
happened.  If the boy locked you with his gaze anyone else looking at you
would realize immediately what you were indeed staring at - you simply
couldn't look away no matter how hard or desperately you tried.  His
coloring was fair with the easy ability to become very tan when exposed to
sunlight as when swimming or skiing for long hours (he did lots of both). 
Especially when swimming, anyone even remotely close to the boy was
physically drawn to him - the magnetism was unbreakable, no one could help
themselves - even truly straight men that never made a pass at him were
drawn inexorably to this athletic perfect appearing god-like creation of
the almighty.  His hair was knock down gorgeous, the soft sometimes barely
curling locks were something many people just wanted to run their fingers
through for hours and hours - his hair in dark light appeared an extremely
light ash brown while in brightest sunlight it was a unique dark dishwater
blonde with golden highlights.  His jaw line was very masculine, and since
he mostly shaved often, the skin felt smooth like a baby's bottom.  Ah yes,
the boy's skin - everywhere it was perfect, he had no moles, no
imperfections; his skin often appeared to glow and to touch it was to be in
heaven so wonderful did it feel - even today `Max' can still hold the boy's
hand or gently caress his cheek or jaw with a finger's tracing - or his
favorite, pull the often lose bangs that can still today occasionally drop
on the boy's forehead and one cannot help but desire to restore them to
their proper location - a finger tracing across his brow to the side - the
finger electrified by the soft touch of the boy's skin and the gentle
softness of his dark golden hair caressing your finger like the light
kisses of a long lost lover. 

`Chris' physique - dear God how to describe his perfection is almost beyond
even `Max'!  The young man had powerful sometimes explosive chest muscles -
though he was only 5 feet 11 inches tall, if he drew you to his breasts the
muscles could then feel so large and soft, almost like the breasts of a
woman, and you could sleep peacefully and securely in them forever.  If in
a fight or pitted in feats of endurance the chest was steel.  One could
place a finger against the pectorals, but then no matter how hard you
pressed, not even the slightest amount of an inch would your finger move. 
His abdominals were a `six pack', though sometimes they appeared more an
eight or again at times of physical prowess maybe even twelve, `Max' could
never tell for certain because at those times his looks inevitably were
elsewhere after just a brief look at the boy's stomach.  The boy's waist
was small - very small for his size but not unusually so - it looked
perfectly in proportion to all the rest.  The boy's hips were powerful
though not too big and his ass was so tight you could easily bounce a
quarter off it (Max actually did so@!).  The arms and legs were again
perfection with the rest of the body - strong, manly; powerful, these were
some of the few body parts that were seldom soft except for the skin. 

The arms and legs were again perfection with the rest of the body - strong,
manly; powerful, these were some of the few body parts that were seldom
soft except for the skin covering them.  If the boy ran - he easily caught
you, nothing you could do could beat him, only when pitted against a true
sprint athlete was the boy defeated (he used to be one in track and field
sports).  If he pulled you, pushed you, picked you up or crushed you to him
- you were his to do with as a small child or toy - he was simply too
strong for you to do anything else.  The boy never, ever, not once, unless
taken by surprise, in great numbers - ever lost a physical fight pitted
against any other male specimen - and at those, too frequent, times of such
fighting the boy came home unscathed - with the exception of his often
skinned knuckles, frequently bloodied, that `Max' would take great care to
mend and tend to lovingly. 

What have I forgotten?  Though the pictures don't show this, the boy's back
was also muscular and hard, firm and unmovable. I'm sorry but now I'm at a
loss over where to go with my descriptions.  Ah yes, I'm certain YOU didn't
forget it did you?  The man's genitalia!  I'm sorry but neither `Max' nor I
think those items need description!  Haven't you been reading the stories? 
All right, enough, enough, I'll relent and give you some very few words. 
Stories abound that vary in describing what made this god a mortal man. 
His weapon was described sometimes as short as 9 or 10 inches at rest and
when aroused in anger or lust frequently as long as 12 or possibly longer
(but I'm certain that was fear of the impending victim speaking only).  I'm
not even certain that the 12 is sooth, because the massiveness of it when
it threatened you directly often brought both intense fear and terror to
the intended target and yet unspeakable desire and lust.  When flaccid the
organ was long and slightly thin in appearance, but when engorged it could
only be described as huge or massive or enormous.  The testes were also
large and perfect in their slightly oval shape and the scrotum was always
just the perfect length and breadth when compared with all the rest of the
reproductive systems with the skin coloring going toward the light as
opposed to the dark skin tones some Caucasian men seem to have.  There is
one unique identifying quality to `Chris' genitalia, but privacy agreements
with both men prevent me from sharing this fact with any reader.

The manliness of the man - well no matter his age, these features were
never described as belonging to a boy or even a young man - they belonged
entirely to a full grown man - they had to, anything else was impossible. 
The pubic hair was a darkish light brown - in daylight it, like his other
hair, had golden highlights that sparkled in the light and drew one's gaze
easily.  Any time any person was exposed to the boy's naked presence -
always -- always, always the genitalia fascinated everyone to the point of
total obsession.  Doctors, teachers (gym teachers), nurses, school nurses,
fellow students, friends - all stared and all knew that everyone else was
staring and yet no one cared - they simply couldn't look away.  This was
the boy's greatest humiliation - this fascination unending beyond all
endurance - the boy hated it and often, even into college years, wished
he'd had the organs of an average man.  Only `Max' could look away -
easily.  In fact after the first few months of living together - when
presented with the boy/man's nakedness `Max' found his gaze seldom if ever
looked at the boy's `package', instead it was the young man's alluring face
or deep blue eyes that always and forever drew `Max's stare to them.  And
then the boy would slowly smile at him and once more utter joy and light
would flood `Max's often dark thoughts and sight - and there was again
hope, and love, and protection and peace.  And so the world for `Max' at
least was made whole and perfect - and with the boy's still ever present
gaze it thus remains so even to this very day, nothing else matters to the
man `Max', except the love shown so clearly in the boy's deep abiding blue
eyes.    One final comment I will make about `Chris' manhood - those that
desired the bodies of men (whether they called themselves bi, gay or
straight or claimed nothing) when they would accidently speak of it (which
happened in `Max's presence more often than you would think) spoke as if a
sudden deep addiction had come upon them and was consuming them - they
desired nectar from the boy's manhood - the fountain of his strength, his
seed, his very life's essence compressed into the delicious fluids that
they dreamed flowed readily from the boy's body when it was enthralled
(which indeed they did).  None of those men, or any others, for that matter
other than `Max' (and a great many girls maybe and certainly many woman we
definitely know of), ever was able to satisfy this craving - none of all
mortal men with the possible exception of the one called `Ben' - only `Max'
was ever able to drink this rich nectar of the gods and so was for a time
sated and filled with the boy's physical warmth and strength flowing
through him.  `Max' says at times the drink was slightly bitter or
astringent and he later learned this happened most often after great
physical endurance and contests, or athletics or fighting (it happened
often enough that `Max' was able to draw these conclusions).  When the boy
was at rest and during the times of long loving passion, those times when
`Max' sampled this nectar over and over and over again, then nothing was
sweeter, the taste was like no other man that `Max' had ever tasted and
there very many of those.  It was, in its way, honey though in truth it was
never that sweet - too sweet - it was unique and truly addictive in all
comparisons with any form of drug.  `Max' thirsted daily sometimes hourly
or even more often to sample this nectar of heaven that only the boy could
grant access to.  `Max' always imagined that if ever this nectar had been
forced from the boy - then and only then it would have tasted foul and
horrible to the senses so much so he imagined that any mortal able to do so
(we know of none that the boy can remember) would almost certainly have
vomited it up immediately.  This was a wonder of the boy, the man, that his
seed could appear to change its texture on the tongue, its flavor, its
sweetness or the slight bitterness that still was welcome, at the boy's
very will or mood or heart or soul or need or want or his own desire to
share his seed.  There is simply put, no other way to explain it's complex
nature and how else it could change so much and yet the tastes and
sensations `Max' learned to predict by the boy's mood, desires, environment
and actions - and most especially when the boy desperately needed to love
another and be loved.  One last point, regarding this seed, this sparkling
white or sometimes clear heady liquid.  The smell had a musky aroma very
uncommon to spent seminal fluid or pre lubricant from anything `Max' had
ever experienced.  The smell was never heavy it was light and aromatic and
hung gently in the air.  Also the sight of it was, when present with sperm,
and in bright light, brilliantly white, a pure white untainted - if only
lubricant it was sparkling clear (`Max' once forced the boy to allow him to
place some in a glass to examine it thoroughly, to the boy's chagrin). 
Again the lubricant sparkled easily in dim or bright light.  If you read of
`Ben's experience with the very young `Chris', though the dialog and
actions are those recalled later and reported by `Chris' to `Max' - the
descriptions of how things `fountain', `exploded', `sparkled' and `blinded'
came straight from `Max's own experiences with the boy.  `Max' had no
problems ever imaging the boy's first release of his seed with `Ben'. 
Perhaps this is why the boy/man of today in just the most recent
conversations with `Max' claims he exaggerated the truth of the experience
- because he thought it was what `Max' wanted to hear.  Still
`Max', through his own resources, says that he thinks the boy's telling of
the encounter was mostly truth.  The boy never had a very good imagination
and because of his revulsion at the very thought of male-on-male sex, for
the boy to create the all-encompassing encounter, as related, would have
been extremely hard if not impossible for him to do.  I can say nothing
else on these subjects -- I'm spent and have dwelled to long on something
very dangerous to contemplate today.  But still one can remember and dream
of the dream that was this boy, this young man, this god, this that was
indeed `Max's love.    Oh dear God! Alright for those truly more perverted
in their desires and thinking (at least to me Max Borren the writer - and
yes I know who you are because you wrote to me, remember?) "YES", `Max' had
on many more than one occasion tasted the boy's urine as well. Satisfied? 
It only happened during the boy's high school years, when he and `Max'
would have inexperienced sexual encounters and as `Max' often did, he
wanted the boy to repeat them again without a break at all.  `Chris' would
often beg `Max' to stop because the boy said "pee will come, please don't
make me do it" and yet `Max' would pressure the boy to relent.  And then
indeed instead of nectar `Max's reward, more often than not, was a mouthful
of "pee" which `Max' always swallowed faithfully (he didn't like it) -
never once did a drop hit the floor and never once did `Max' tell the boy
(despite the questions) whether he had swallowed "pee" or `seed'.  Well,
with one exception; one time the boy and `Max' had been drinking and so the
boy's bladder was extremely full - in that experience (like today's story),
indeed, almost `Max' released it simply because it was too great an
amount.  But ever the expert and athlete in such things, and knowing full
well the humiliation it would have caused the boy -- `Max' choked on it and
got it all down.  In that moment (since `Max' had never choked before),
when he locked eyes with the boy and realized that the boy knew exactly the
complete truth for once, `Max' began laughing uncontrollably and couldn't
stop, and so shortly he found `Chrisy' on the floor beside him, also
rolling in uncontrolled laughter for hours on end, it seemed to go on.  One
point about that encounter - after they both quit laughing, and again could
crawl back onto the bed and on their sides face each other -- `Chris' drew
`Max' to him and gave the first ever chaste, brief kiss on the lips to
`Max', which shocked `Max' to the core because he knew the boy didn't
approve of kissing - though at that time the full tale of `Ben' was still
not something `Max' had yet heard.  From that day forward with `Max's
gentle reminders the boy always did his best to empty his bladder before
they initiated any form of intimacy.  And `Max' has nothing more to relate
on the disturbing topic.  `Max' refuses to describe the taste (the only
thing he's able to recall, since there was no sight and little or no
texture).  `Max', sitting beside me now, will only say "what a stupid
question, it was exactly like `Chrisy' said, it was just 'pee pee'", and
then we both laugh.

I hope this gives you happiness.  As I mentioned earlier, `Max' collects
photos of erotica that remind him of his boy love `Chris' (actually `Chris'
left `Max' certain special items that make pornography unnecessary).  Of
course the real photos of `Max's love he shares with no one, but I'm
telling you of these 6 because if you combine the eyes, hair, genitalia,
pectorals, abdominals, and legs/arms from the 6 boys in the photos you get
a very close match to what `Max's love actually looked like (the hardest to
composite would be the face because his was always so strong / innocent /
exotic / mesmerizing).  (This is `Max' speaking to you directly; I the
writer merely do as told always and dictate for the man.)

I hope you can download these, and I hope you enjoy them.  I could do the
same with `Max' but to be honest no one I'm in contact with collects photos
like that and while it would be easy to search the Internet - and likewise
easy to see `Max' in the appearance of many various naked forms, I see not
point to such.  Nor do I care to try and build images of `Max'; he's my
friend not a form of fascination (`Chris' on the other hand is most
certainly a `fascination' for everyone). 

I will say this for you; the one person that might object to these
statements that I (and `Max') are making would likely be `Chris' from his
early days, his days of ongoing passion with `Max'.  The boy would likely
say (he would not do so today), that in his entire life `Maximilian'
(`Maxi') the young man and later man was the only male mortal living that
ever aroused desire in `Chris' for the body of another man. Why so?  Most
likely because of the physical / spiritual passion that `Max's many long
learned talents could easily enflame in the boy -- `Max' in this much had
become an artist at his craft - many various men had said over the years
that only Max could drive their lust and desires to extremes and sometimes
over the point of total madness and unending pain and agony of longing and
lust.  `Max' was almost evil in this ability - and combined it with the
boy's love of the man to corrupt such a pure and perfect soul.  This was
what enabled `Max' to become utterly the betrayer of his love.  The totally
straight man fell under `Max's control in this way and eventually
sacrificed his moral code of steel simply in his desire to bring peace and
joy to his beloved `Max' - though it cost the boy his own peace and
shattered his self image forever beyond the power of any mending that
either man could ever do.  Yet if you were to ask `Chris', and if he chose
to answer - still he would say he has no regrets and that if he had it all
to do over again he would change little or nothing (this from both men). 
Such is the true tragedy of my stories that this pure boy would choose his
own corruption for the love of his `Maxi' alone.  Were it only a physical
thing the boy would reject utterly all his choices - he is indeed a
straight man and he desires no other men's bodies ever!

No matter what you may read in my stories - know this, if the writer ever
tells you that `Chris' did more than allow the simple touch of a man other
than `Max' on his naked form (he did allow this on many different
occasions) then that part of the story is 100 % fiction.  Not once in
arousal did Chris ever touch any other living man - with perhaps the
exception of `Ben' and that hardly counts since he was only a young boy,
inexperienced, with raging hormones that permitted his friend to `teach'
him about the truth of the boy's own body and what it meant to be a man not
a boy.  In this way - it is `Chris', not `Max', who was always faithful to
his male lover.  `Chris' never, ever, in total sooth, had aroused sex with
any man living or dead.  `Max' on the other hand not only had male sex
beyond counting he also had previous male lovers before `Chris' - though
you have only heard the tale of `David' (there were many others besides
that strange young man).  Once he found `Chris' -- `Max' never again had
sex with another living man, nor did he again allow even a touch - though
there were very many opportunities presented to the man, often at their
home when `Chris' would utterly reject such men and their lust was almost
beyond enduring.  Then they would literally fall naked (frequently) and
then beg (often) for `Max' to grant them physical release which he then
could have done with but a single touch or two - so great was the men's
lust and so potent the gifts of `Max' to endow upon them. 

Yes, `Max' was sorely tempted too many times to remember because not only
were all the young men and women beautiful, often likewise, nearly beyond
description - yet still `Max' needed only to feel his boy in his heart, or
simply bring a picture of the boy's smiling eyes to his mind - and thus was
any lust in `Max' quenched immediately, fully and irrevocably without
exception.  As I said `Chris' did allow other's the rare touch of his body
- but he was never aroused during such times and never permitted them to
even come close to touching his genitals -- that, only `Max' was permitted
to do or `Chris' himself.

After `Chris' moved in with `Max', `Chris' did have sex with many and
various women (often at their apartment or home), while not too many to
count, the number of such encounters was very large indeed (I can count to
the thousands, can you).

Let me know if you think you got close in your attempts to build a proper
image of `Chris' - if you tell me which parts on which photos belonged to
the visage of `Chris', I'll honestly tell you if you're correct or were
misled.  And tell me if you found happiness in them.

* END of Description of the real life person that the `character Chris' is
based on *

PLEASE FEEL FREE TO MAIL COMMENTS, SUGGESTIONS, QUESTIONS OR WHATEVER YOU
LIKE TO:

maxborren@gmail.com