The following is fiction. It contains some scenes involving gay sex. If reading such material is against the law, please do not read this story.
I have been enormously gratified by my readers’ response to my first two stories, 8th Grade and Prom. Your comments to me have been exceedingly generous and deeply appreciated.
I have had several requests asking for the location of my two previous stories. They can be found as follows:
8th Grade: Nifty Archives, Gay Male, Young Friends, April 1, 2005
Prom: Nifty Archives, Gay Male, High School, May 15, 2005
What explicit sex is included in this story is intended to further the story; I do not write gratuitous sex scenes. The story is not principally about sex, and if your objective is to read about sexual activity, you will find this story disappointing and uninteresting in the extreme.
Those of you that have read my first two stories know that I like writing romantic tales of young teens learning who they are. This story has a somewhat darker and more troubling theme, and may have a message that is objectionable to some. I think the majority of you will enjoy it, but I’ve been known to be wrong in the past. Please be forewarned.
This story is copyrighted by the author. His permission must be secured before any copying or use of this story is permitted.
I love hearing from readers. It’s the reward I get for writing these stories. Any comments will reach me at email@example.com
T I M
I didn’t know what to do. As close as my father and I were, it felt wrong, going to him with my suspicions. In a way, it seemed like the same thing I’d been so pissed at Shawn for: he found me jerking off, and promptly told my parents. I felt betrayed. Sex stuff teens did shouldn’t be discussed with parents. If seemed like Rule Number One for teenagers. Even if no one told us this, we just all knew it.
So what should I do? This was big. And the way I looked at it, Shawn was a mess, and whatever he’d been involved in had to be a big part of the reason for that. I was sure Reverend Ellison was molesting him. Hell, why beat around the bush? Ellison was fucking him and had been for months, maybe even years. The thing I didn’t know was, what should I do about it?
I thought back to when Shawn caught me playing with myself. What did I think he should have done instead of what he did? That was easy. I thought he should have talked to me about it. Sat down with me, discussed it, and we could have worked something out. What he shouldn’t have done was go to our parents with it. So was that what I should do here, talk to him? Well, why not? At least it was worth a try.
I waited till the next afternoon. I wanted him calmed down, and I didn’t want what I said to seem like a continuation of our last conversation when I’d tricked him. When he came home from school, he went up to his room as usual. I gave him a couple minutes, then knocked on his door. It was open as mine had been yesterday. He was sitting on his bed, apparently just staring at nothing when I knocked. He looked up at me.
“Can I come in? I want to talk to you?”
I walked in. He had a chair at his desk. I pulled it over and placed it in front of him, then sat.
“Shawn, we need to talk.” He just sat there looking at me. I looked at him, and saw what I’d seen yesterday. In his eyes, he didn’t look right.
I took a breath and dived in. “Shawn, I know what’s been happening. I know you’ve been having sex with Reverend Ellison. We need to talk about it. I know how he’s explained to you it’s OK that you’re doing it with him, but Shawn, it’s not. And I think you know that. I think somewhere inside yourself, you know that, and it’s bothering you. It’s bothering you a lot. I want to talk about that.”
Shawn started fidgeting as soon as I said ‘sex.’ As I continued, he started looking disturbed. When I finished, he was looking a lot disturbed, agitated even, and started to stand up. I reached out and placed my hand on his leg, and told him not to get up.
Shawn was two years older than I was, and bigger, but the childlike quality I’d seen yesterday was still there. He was almost docile, and when I told him not to get up, he didn’t. That scared me a little. It made me wonder what Ellison had done to him. It seemed almost like he’d been programmed to do what he was told. A 15 year-old telling a 17 year-old what to do, and an older brother at that, and then being obeyed, that just wasn’t normal.
“Shawn, all I can do is try to help you. I want to help you. I’m your brother. We’re not close, you know that, but I’d like to help. You could let me help you. I don’t think you like it, what you’re doing with Reverend Elliston. But he’s been brainwashing you for so long, I think you don’t know what to do about it. If you’ll talk to me, tell me about it, what’s happening, how you feel, I can help. I’ll do anything I can to help you. But you have to let me. Will you let me help, Shawn? Please?”
“I can’t talk about what we do. Reverend Ellison wouldn’t like it. I’d go to hell. I can’t talk about it.”
“Shawn, having sex with adults isn’t right. Kids don’t do that. Sometime adults ask them to, but they’re taking advantage of the kids. It’s messed up. And him doing that to you, it’s messed you up, too. You’re not the same kid you were before. You were happy then. Now you’re not. You need help. I could help you if you’d let me. If you’d talk to me about it. Please?”
“Revered Ellison says we’re doing what God wants us to do.”
He had a smile on his face. He looked like he was thinking about what they did, and a smile, a distant, rather other-worldly, mystic smile formed on his face.
I was disgusted, and seeing him sitting there like that, completely lacking in independence, docile, totally accepting of whatever was going on around him, pissed me off. I got mad. I began talking louder, my emotions bubbling over.
“Shawn, he’s fucking you! God doesn’t have anything to do with it. He’s a man who gets off on boys! He saw that you would be someone he could victimize, he started working with you, got your trust, and brainwashed you with his religious fervor. Then he started seducing you. I can only imagine how, talking about masturbating, asking you questions about that, then maybe touching you, then stroking your body, making you feel good, making you trust him and then making you feel good, all the time talking, all the time moving closer to what he wanted. When did he first get you naked Shawn? Did he tell you should take off your clothes so he could see God’s beautiful work in you, or some such shit? Did he get naked too, to show you it was all right. Did he stroke you till you got hard? Did he ask you to stroke him? Suck him? Did he suck you first? What did he do, Shawn? Whatever it was, it was fucked up! He was using you for his sexual needs, his wacked, perverse needs! What did he do, Shawn? Tell me about it. Tell me!”
Shawn’s smile had got bigger, but the louder I’d become, the more distant he’d become. His eyes were glazed. He was remembering! I looked down, and his crotch was bulging! He was remembering!
That was when I realized I wasn’t going to be able to help him at all. I’d been trying to shock him, show him how smutty and dirty and perverted what his Reverend had been doing, and instead it had excited him. I’d had disgust in my voice when I spoke, but the words I’d been trying to shock him with just turned him on. I saw I couldn’t help. It was very clear to me. He was way past anything I could help with.
I looked at him without saying anything for a minute. Then I got up and left. I looked back as I left the room. He was still sitting on the bed. Looking a little dazed. And smiling.
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That night I had a conversation with my dad. We had a long, difficult talk. But when we finally went to bed, late, we’d decided what we had to do. Neither one of us was happy. But then, we realized, when it came to our family, it had been a long time since we had been.
The next day, after dinner, Dad told Mom we were going to have a family talk.
“I have a meeting in 15 minutes at the church. It’ll have to be some other time.”
“No. We’re having a meeting now. All of us. Call someone and tell them you’re not going to be able to be there tonight.”
“Sam! I can’t do that! What’s this all about anyway? You know I can’t miss one of my meetings.”
“Marge, call someone. Or not, but we’re having a talk, right now. Do you want to call someone, or are we just going in the living room without that. What’s it going to be?”
Mom wasn’t happy, but Dad was being firm, something he didn’t often do, so it had an impact. Mom could have just walked out, I supposed, but that would have been too dramatic and dismissive a gesture even for her. She looked angry, but went to the phone, and five minutes later we were all sitting in the living room.
Dad started. “Marge, Shawn, this is going to be difficult, but we have to talk about this. We have discovered that Shawn has been taken advantage of by Reverend Ellision.”
Mom was suddenly standing up, shock and rage on her face. “What do you mean, ‘taken advantage of?’ I hope you don’t mean what I think you do! Shawn has been taking private lessons from Reverend Ellison so he can be a minister himself and spread the word and save souls. How can you make accusations about what they’re doing? You’re filthy! Reverend Ellison is a man of God, and he’s taken an interest is Shawn. You’re absolutely disgusting! You have no idea what you’re talking about!”
Mom’s expression clearly showed the disgust she was feeling. She was looking at Dad as thought he was the dirtiest, foulest creature she had ever seen, could ever imagine seeing.
Dad just sat there, waiting for her to finish. We knew she’d have this reaction. Somehow, we had to get past it.
“Marge, sit down. We need to talk, and we can’t if you’re screaming. Sit down.”
I don’t know how he got her to listen. Maybe it was that he was completely calm and didn’t show any anger in response to hers. He just sat, she was fuming, but like a boxer who’s opponent has sat back down in his corner, she had no one to fight. Although she still looked outraged and almost violently angry, she did sit back down.
“Marge, you have to listen to me. I know you’re angry. I knew you would be, and that you wouldn’t believe me. But there is someone we can ask that you will believe. Let’s listen to him.”
He turned toward Shawn. “Shawn, I want to talk to you about Reverend Ellison. I know he’s working with you to be a minister. But I want to talk to you about the times he’s making you feel like you’re reaching for God with him, when you’re both touching each other. Tell me about those times.”
Shawn blushed, and his eyes started their wandering. I was surprised at the blush. I didn’t know he felt embarrassment over what they did. I didn’t know he had any inkling it was anything to blush over.
“I can’t talk about that. That’s private with me and Reverend Ellison. He says I can’t discuss it with anyone.” Shawn was starting to fidget, and his eyes were getting some of the wild look I’d seen when I was talking to him.
Dad just looked at him, then looked back at Mom. “Marge, please stop being angry and be a mother for a moment. Listen to Shawn, look at him, then help me. More important than your church activities, more important than even that church itself, or Reverend Ellison, is Shawn. I know you know that. I need you to help me here.”
Mom looked at Shawn. Then she turned back to Dad and said, hotly, “You’ve never liked Reverend Ellison, Sam. You think there’s something wrong here and you can blame it on him. This is just jealousy. You’re jealous of him and making things up. Well, you don’t know him. He’s a great man, and he’s helping Shawn. He wouldn’t ever do anything like what you’re thinking.”
Dad sighed. “Shawn, we have to know,” he said, turning back to his son. “Does he make you take your clothes off? I can see you’re upset talking about this, but we have to know. I think you need help. Tell me what you do. The Bible says you must obey your father. I’m telling you to talk to me about this. Please obey me now, Shawn. Please tell me.”
Shawn was really fidgeting now. He was noticeably upset. I could see his agitation. I could imagine his turmoil, having to decide what do to, whom to disobey, his father or his minister.
My father’s voice suddenly lost its authoritarian edge and became gentle, loving. “Shawn, speak to me son. You know you can trust me. You have to trust me. Tell me what Reverend Ellison and you have been doing. I won’t get mad. None of us will. I want to help. It’ll help you, it’ll make you feel better. It’ll get rid of the guilty feelings you have. Please tell me.”
It was difficult for me to watch Shawn. His distress was upsetting me. He looked all around the room, not facing our father at all, not meeting his eyes. Dad let him think, let him stew for a while, saying nothing more.
It was my mother, however, who couldn’t take the silence. I thought it possible she couldn’t take the idea that maybe, just maybe, Shawn was going to say something bad about Reverend Ellison. She again spoke, and her anger had returned. “You’re upsetting him. Look at him. That’s your doing, him being upset like that. You’re questioning him like he was a criminal. He hasn’t done anything wrong and you’re acting like he’s guilty and it’s no wonder he’s upset. Shawn is a wonderful young man. Now stop this. We’re ending this right now. We’re done here. I can’t believe your jealousy of Reverend Ellison would lead you to accusing your own son like this. How can you do this, Sam? Your own son. How can you do this, to your own son?”
I wondered if my father would give up, but looking at him, all I saw was determination turn to resolve. He was not going to give up, and it was apparent in the look he gave her. “Marge, maybe you’re not capable any longer of seeing what’s real. But Shawn is in need of help, and if you’re going to stand by and not believe what your own eyes are seeing, well, I’m going to do what’s best for Shawn. If you’re not going to help your own son, then I guess you’re right about one thing. This meeting tonight is over. But I’m far from finished with this. I’m going to help my son, and if you want to stand on the sidelines and watch, you can. If you’re choosing Reverend Ellison and that church over your family, I can’t stop you. You’re an adult. Shawn isn’t, he needs help, and he’s going to get it.”
With that, he stood up. I did too. Mom looked at us, then at her watch, and then she got up too, grabbed her purse, and walked out of the house. Shawn, looking distracted and spacey, ambled off upstairs to his room.
Dad looked discouraged, but not defeated. “Well, Tim, we tried. Tomorrow we’ll just have to go ahead. It’s too bad, I was hoping your mother would see the light, but if it’s not to be, I guess we’ll have to live with it.”
I was really sad, but I’d been living with her, watching her slowly change from my mother to someone else for three years, getting more and more involved in her religious activities and less and less in Dad and me. Dad had been more hopeful than I was that this would go differently than it had tonight.
“Are you all right?” I asked him.
He gave me a weak smile. “I will be, Tim. Don’t worry.”
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The next day, Dad was waiting at the school as it let out. I got away quickly and joined him in the car. Then we sat and waited for Shawn to appear. About 5 minutes later, we saw him walk out the front door. He was alone. The friends he’d had growing up had abandoned him long ago as he’d attached himself almost solely to his religion and his church. Leaving school alone was an everyday occurrence for him.
When he reached the sidewalk, I got out of the car and called him. I waved him to the car, and he came. “Get in, Shawn,” I said. “Dad’s going to drive us.”
Shawn got in the front, and I slipped into the back seat. Dad pulled away from the curb. He drove, and made the turns he needed to. Shawn seemed placid for a while, then suddenly sat us straighter and asked, “Dad, this isn’t the way home. Where are we going?”
“I’ve got an errand to run. We’ll be there soon. You’ll see.”
Shawn didn’t say anything else. We drove for a short time, then pulled into an office parking lot. Shawn looked at where we were, then said, “This is Dr. Monroe’s office. Are you going in here?”
“Yes, we’ll all go it. Come on, guys.” Dad got out, I did too, and so Shawn naturally joined us, and we walked into the office.
Dr. Monroe’s nurse saw us and immediately told us to come in with her, and opened the inside door to the hall where the examining rooms were. Dad had spent some time on the phone today, I could see that. I’d never got in to see the doctor without waiting at least a half hour, no matter what time I was scheduled for or what time I arrived. I looked up at Dad, and he nodded at me.
The nurse issued us into an empty exam room, told us the doctor would be right in, then closed the door on us. Shawn looked at Dad and asked, “What are we doing here?”
I looked at Shawn. I saw a glint of awareness in the depths of his eyes. I really had no idea what he was able to comprehend, how screwed up he was. At times he seemed normal, a perceptive, ordinary teenager. Other time, he was just weird. I hoped this wasn’t a time for him to emerge from his fog. We needed him docile and unawares for what came next.