Date: Sun, 16 Dec 2001 21:23:30 From: Dream Spinner Subject: "The Brewsters and Frosty the Snowman" (t/snowman, b/snowman) Caution/Welcome. This is a warm folksy story involving four brothers, one twelve-year-old, one fourteen-year-old, and two recently turned sixteen-year-old twins enjoying Mother Nature's winter wonderland tobogganing, carolling and building forts and snowmen until they are soaked to the skin and chilled to their bones, and then snuggling up together in their pajamas before the fireplace under a big blanket with marshmallows floating in mugs of hot chocolate, Christmas baking, hot throbbing bones in each other's fists, and happy smiles like boys all over the world. Besides peace and goodwill, they would like to pass on this holiday season tip to the now over a hundred readers on their Christmas card list: for the perfect gift that is both practical and fun, give a box of condoms. As for the man who has everything, he should have gotten condoms last Christmas. This story is posted at free gay adult story sites for adult entertainment only. Permission is not given to copy electronically nor in any other form for the purpose of redistribution or posting at sites other than those described here. This is the thirty-first story in the Brewster Boys special events and myths series. Comments, future story suggestions, roasted chestnuts, fruitcake and complementary ski vacation tickets can be sent to the author, J.O. Dickingson at authorsix@hotmail.com THE BREWSTERS AND FROSTY THE SNOWMAN Deck the hall with boughs of holly, Fa la la la la, la la la la. 'Tis the season to be jolly, Fa la la la la, la la la la. Don we now our gay apparel; Fa la, la la, la la la. Twelve-year-old Bobby Brewster looked up admiringly at his two oldest brothers who were standing on either side of him as they sang in front of the Bradford house, their blue eyes sparkling like the diamonds of frost in the crusty snow. He totally loved that Christmas carol. He loved the way the la la la's rolled off his tongue, and it was the only Christmas song that he knew that was about gay guys. Both of his brothers, who had turned sixteen on the second of December, were gay, which was cool, and they had both recently confirmed it with him and Benny, which was also cool. They had not come out to anyone else yet, not because they were ashamed of it or anything, but because where they lived being gay was not exactly an accepted life style, an attitude unfortunately held by adult and teens alike. They were teased enough as it was because of their long, blond hair and effeminate looks. They didn't need the extra hassle, and they didn't want to cause their kid brothers or their parents any hassle either. That was the type of guys they were, and he loved them all the more for it. He didn't quite understand the bit about gay apparel, but way back when the song was written gay guys must have dressed differently than other guys. Benny would know. Bobby looked over admiringly at his fourteen-year-old brother who was standing to Brent's right. Benny knew everything there was to know about sex, and if he didn't know, he'd find out for you. He was the smartest guy Bobby knew, and he loved him too. Glancing over at his kid brother, Benny's lips curled at the sight of Bobby's happy grin, and Brent and Brett, also smiled as they glanced at their two younger brothers. The carollers moved on to the next home, the Kirsh's. Joey being in Bobby's class and his brother Marty being in Benny's, they knew that the family was Jehovah Witnesses and did not celebrate Christmas nor participate in some of the other things they did, like singing the anthem and saluting the flag. They had no idea why that was, not really being friends with the boys, but they figured there had to be a good reason, and that they didn't do things the same way didn't bother the four brothers. It was just like the Goldstein's. They did things differently too, but having gotten to know Jerome and his family better having celebrated Shavuot and Yom Kippur with them, they understood them a lot better. For the Brewster boys, if you treated them with respect and understanding, they were willing to treat you the same way. They moved on to the Catholic manse, where a large manger scene had been set up for the Christmas season. As they began to sing "Silent Night" Father O'Rilley came out to listen and Bobby sang particularly loud. He still had his heart set on joining Saint Mary's Boys' Choir despite the difficulties his brothers had pointed out in achieving that goal. His brothers noticed his extra effort of course and they had to smile. When Bobby put his mind to something, he was as persistent as a little bulldog, which was actually a Brewster trait, his brothers and their parents being much the same. That was why their father was the second vice-president of Wecare Pet Supplies, and why their mother was known for her voluntarism and successful fundraising in the community. Actually, Bobby's three brothers would not mind joining the boy's choir either, and for the same reason as their kid brother's. They were simply more realistic about that ever happening. It was a clear, crisp night and the stars shone brightly above as the small group of carollers made their rounds, bundled up warmly in mufflers and overcoats against the cold and fuelled by Christmas sugar cookies and the occasional mug of hot chocolate or hot cider offered by the householders they visited. Carolling in the Clearview Heights community was a long-standing tradition and something Brenda and her boys had joined in upon moving to the suburb from Canada four years ago this past summer. Brenda loved to sing, and so did her four sons. Arriving home an hour later, the boys shed their heavy parkas, scarves and earmuffs, their cheeks and lips, normally rosy, now a bright red from the fresh air, and their stomachs, normally ravenous, now even more so after two hours of tramping about the snow-covered streets. Despite their heavy wool socks, their toes felt frozen as they kicked off their snow boots and they quickly slipped on their worn slippers which their dad had left by the furnace duct so they would be warm. "I don't know if we should go out," Barry announced as his family joined him in the family room where he had a fire blazing in the fireplace. "The triplets have really been fussy tonight." While the rest of the family had gone out carolling, Barry had stayed home to look after the ten- month-old triplets. They were too young to be taken out for such an extended time on a cold winter evening, and anyway, they were teething and they had a bit of cholic. Besides, carolling was not one of Barry's joys. He and Brenda had planned on taking some of Brenda's Christmas baking to some of the seniors in town that night, another tradition they had established, but the babies had been particularly difficult. "We can look after them," offered Brent. "Well, I don't know," Brenda responded. It was getting close to Christmas and there were not that many other evenings she and Barry could go out, but it was placing a lot of responsibility on her four boys. "We don't mind," Brett said in support. "You're sure?" "Fu-, fu-, fucrying out loud yeah," responded Bobby. He'd been making a major effort to stop using the f word, but after all these years that habit had become entrenched. Besides, he still had to stutter occasionally to warrant Zac still coming over to tutor him, although he also had to do so less frequently so it would appear the high school senior was having some success, speech- wise that was. It was tough being a responsible twelve-year-old. The four boys knew their parents had planned on going out and being the good sons that they were, they wanted to help. The fact that it was near Christmas didn't hurt either. Assuring their sons that they would not be gone that long, and reminding them that their limit was three cookies each and two glasses of eggnog, without the rum, Brenda and Barry put on their coats and headed out the door. The boys had not made it to the kitchen before they heard one of the babies crying and the other two quickly join in. Offering to go see if he could get them back asleep, Brent headed for the triplets' room while his brothers got the cookies and eggnog and returned to the family room where they snuggled up on the floor in front of the fireplace. "Isn't that awesome that Uncle James and Mister Carboni are going to Switzerland for Christmas?" asked Benny, referring to the email they'd gotten that afternoon. "Oh yeah. That lucky Giovanni," observed Bobby, referring to Romano Carboni's thirteen-year-old son who was keeping them informed of the developing relationship between their bachelor uncle and his widowed dad. They were really taking a liking for each other, much to the delight of the five boys. "I wish we could go to Switzerland." "Yeah. I'd like to blow one of those huge alpine horns they got," commented Brett, the trumpet player in the family. "I'd like to blow one of those good-looking Swiss guys in those hot leather shorts they wear," observed Benny, and his two brothers laughed. "Well, I think it's great Uncle James and Mister Carboni have hit it off so great." "Fuck yeah," agreed Bobby. "But I know Mom and Dad are disappointed Uncle James won't be joining us for Christmas." "You think Dad knows Uncle James is gay?" "He's gotta." "What about Mom?" "Mom's gay?" dead panned Bobby, his eyes growing wide with mock surprise. "You know what I mean," Brett replied, tossing a pillow at his kid brother. "I don't think Mom does know," observed Benny. "Then we can't very well tell her Uncle James has a boyfriend," observed Bobby. "Yeah," agreed Benny. "Though I'm surprised she don't know he's gay." "Mom's no fool," agreed Bobby. "But she's sortta naive when it comes to sex stuff." "Yeah. Especially guy stuff." "But not when it comes to fucking with Dad," observed Bobby. "Oh yeah," his brothers agreed as they thought of the many times they'd secretly watched their parents in the act. "So what we gonna give Mom and Dad for Christmas anyway?" "Mom's been hinting about those earrings in Rosenberg's Jewellery." "I think we should get Dad one of those sex toys we found on the net." "Yeah, one of those sex dolls, the guy one." "Or one of those double dildos," said Bobby. "You just want to be able to borrow it, so you and Aaron can try it out," Brett teased his kid brother. "Of course," Bobby said with a wide grin as Brent joined them. "That wasn't long." "Hey, I know how to handle babies." "Yeah? So you and Billy gonna adopt a bunch when ya get married?" teased Benny. "Maybe we will," responded Brent as he joined his brothers on the floor. He did love children. "So, you and Billy gonna go ahead and get Prince Alberts for Christmas?" "I dunno," the teenager responded, brushing back his long, blond tresses. "You thinking serious about it?" "Yeah. Billy would really like us to get one." At one time Brent's love-struck expression would have been the cause of some good-hearted teasing, but his deep feelings for his first true boyfriend now generated a respectful awe from his brothers. They loved each other, and they loved their parents, but that wasn't the same as one guy loving another guy. "I ain't putting no second hole in my dickhead," observed Bobby with a cringe. "That's gotta hurt. Besides, when you pee, wouldn't it leak out the other hole?" The three boys looked at Benny. "It could," the fourteen-year-old advised, having looked up PA's on the Internet. "One guy described pissing as being like a shower." The boys giggled. "Another said it was not a problem, you just had to be sure to pinch it shut." One of the babies began to cry again and the other two quickly joined in. "So you know how to look after babies, huh big brother," grinned Benny as he got up. "What about you?" asked Brent, looking at his twin as Benny left. "What are you getting Cam?" "Already got it," Brett said with a smile. "Yeah? What?" his brothers chorused. "A silver choker," he said. "I bought it yesterday." "And you didn't show us?" complained Bobby. "Well, I was going to, but we started talking about Mister Tailor and how awesome it was feeling his beard on our butts and dickheads," he explained, referring to an encounter they'd had with one of their dad's clients they'd met at the airport shortly before Yom Kippur, "and then we got horny and by the time we got off, well, I forgot. I'll go get it." He returned along with Benny and proudly showed the boys the silver choker he'd boughten his boyfriend, and he beamed as the others oohed and awed over it. "Christmas is one of my favourite holidays," observed Bobby, taking a long swallow of eggnog and leaving an eggnog moustache on his upper lip. "The Day of the Dead wasn't bad," observed Benny. "Oh yeah," his three brothers agreed as they thought about the Lopez brothers and the great time they'd had in Mexico. "Or Yom Kippur actually," added Brett, and his brothers quickly agreed again. After returning home, and to the present, after that adventure, the boys had done some extensive research and had quizzed their two angel guides about Sodom. All they could find on the net was the established belief that Sodom had been destroyed by God, and the usual "but where is the proof" sites saying that nobody really knew and that its destruction could have been natural. Having been there, the boys knew the truth of course. From their angel guides, Gabriel and Raphael, they had subsequently learned that the citizens of Sodom had enjoyed many more years after their departure, and had taken their advice and had become a welcoming trade centre known for its goods, its friendliness, and most important of all, it's promotion of boy love. When the volcanic activity finally did become a threat, the citizens had plenty of time to disperse to other cities where they continued their practices, thanks to that visit long ago by the Brewster boys, who back in Lot's time and thereafter, had been assumed to be angels the same as the two adult visitors who had appeared with them that night. That the boys found particularly hilarious, especially Bobby. Centuries later their presence was conveniently omitted by the moralists who had written about the events, coloured of course by their personal values. "Thanksgiving is always great," Brent continued, thinking of the turkey dinner and all the trimmings and the pumpkin pie with ice cream. He, like his brothers, had a ravenous appetite. "My fav Thanksgiving was the one where we met Love and Wrestling," observed Bobby, referring to two of their Pilgrim ancestors they had met thanks to the wizard spell book Brent had, and the three brothers thought back to the experience with happy smiles and swelling dicks. "Celebrating Thanksgiving is one of the great things about being American and Canadian," observed Brett. The boys having been born in Edmonton, Alberta, and having moved to the United States back in 1997, celebrated the best of both countries, and that included having two Thanksgivings, the Canadian celebration being a month earlier than the American. As they munched on their cookies, the boys talked about the past holidays they'd especially enjoyed, which were many, and their plans for the upcoming Christmas holiday. Their father had been right about the triplets being fussy that night, and first Brett and then Bobby went to console the unhappy trio. The boys talked about the Sadie Hawkins dance the previous month and how hot the Dream Street boys had been, and how hilarious it had been seeing their tormentors throwing their underwear up on the stage. The embarrassment in their eyes and the surprised look on the faces of the band were something they would not forget. Speaking of their tormentors, Troy Kholler and Ryan Poole, the two fourteen-year-old grade nine hockey jocks who had been giving Benny a hard time about how hockey was more of a man's sport than soccer, and who had been two of the boys who'd thrown their boxers up on the stage, had been giving Benny an even rougher time since then in revenge. Hardly a day went by that the two boys didn't tease Benny about his preference for soccer, or about being shorter than all the other grade nine boys, or about his two effeminate-looking brothers, or about his dorky kid brother who was always hanging around. Since he ignored their teasing, they were also starting to shove him around, pushing him up against the lockers, challenging him to fight, and recently slugging him in the arm whenever he went by, knowing he wouldn't have a chance if he did fight them. Their humiliation at the Sadie Hawkins dance was not something they were going to forget easily. The boys talked about how they might put the boys in their place and stop their harassing. Bobby suggested they use Brent's spell book so their pants would fall down whenever they got the puck, and Brett suggested perhaps they use the spell book to make them miss the net whenever they had a chance at scoring. Both were good ideas, but the four brothers knew they could come up with something better. The two hockey players thought they were real he-men and were constantly strutting and posing, showing off their muscles and bragging about how hot girls were for hockey players. They were asking to be put in their place, and the Brewster brothers were just the ones to do it. They didn't know how yet, but they knew they would. Speaking of masculinity, the smudge on Benny's upper lip was getting more evident each day, much to his delight. The twins had thick pubes and fine tufts in their pits, but their chests and their upper lips were still hairless, and besides, with their fine blond hair, would not be as noticeable as Benny's lip fuzz with his dark brown hair. Bobby was still staring dejectedly in the mirror each morning for the first sign of even a single hair on his pubes or under his arms, the absence of which he bemoaned every day. Commenting on Bobby's eggnog moustache that evening, for example, gave him the opportunity to seek his brothers' sympathy for not having any hairs, and the observation by his brothers that maybe he was wearing them off as they grew with his constant wanking. Bobby of course responded with his middle finger. Benny suggested Bobby could always stick his dick in his mug of eggnog and go around with eggnog pubes. That lead to them musing what Bobby's hot chocolate trick might be like with eggnog, and the thought of their lips clamped about a hot, hard cock and their mouths full of eggnog caused their dicks to begin swelling, especially with Benny's observation that eggnog did sort of have the same colour as cum. The boys glanced at each other and as one they rose and headed for their bedroom. "Hey, the triplets have been quiet a long time. What did you do Bobby?" "Gave them their soothers." "I did that," observed Brett. "It didn't last this long." "Same here," Benny commented. "Me too," added Brent. "You guys just did it wrong," Bobby observed with that impish "I got a secret" smile. "Just what did you do?" Bobby simply motioned for his brothers to follow him. The four tiptoed into the bedroom. Blaine and Blake lay in one crib and Belinda lay in a second, all three sound asleep with happy smiles on their little faces. Their soothers were nowhere to be seen. The three boys looked at Bobby curiously, and with a wide grin, he slowly and carefully raised the blankets covering the triplets. His three brothers' eyes widened as they stared down at the sleeping triplets, each with a soother wedged up his or her butt. Glancing at each other, they turned as one to stare at their kid brother. "Boooobeeeee!" they mouthed silently, consternation screwing up their faces. "What?" he mouthed back in wide-eyed innocence. "We gotta remove them before Mom and Dad get home," whispered Brent. "And wash them good before the triplets suck on them again," added Brett. The four boys looked at each other. "Ewwww," they chorused, wrinkling up their noses. Ever so slowly they removed the soothers, simply causing each of the sleeping babies to smile as they were popped out, and they silently tiptoed back out into the hall. "Bobby, how could you do that!" reprimanded Brent. "Easy," Bobby replied. "They were already covered with baby drool, so ." "You know that's not what I mean," Brent interrupted. "What's wrong? We like getting our butts plugged." Their kid brother did have a point there. It did feel good, and it really wasn't doing the babies any harm, and it had gotten them to fall asleep, and the babies did need their sleep. . . . As they headed to the kitchen to sterilize the soothers, each boy wondered what it would be like to fall asleep with a soother up his butt. They all knew about butt plugs from cruising the net, but they couldn't very well order any. For one, that would be difficult to explain on their dad's credit card, and for another, it would be even more difficult to explain if their mother got the package before they did. "I'll buy four soothers on the way home from school on Monday," offered Brett, the four boys knowing each other well enough to know what each other was thinking. The next afternoon after going to church in the morning, the four boys went in the back yard, and making a large circle, they played fox and geese for a while, and then went down to the park to make a snow fort with their nine-year-old neighbour and number one fan, Charles Elwood, and his friends. While the boys were gone, Father O'Rilley paid their parents a visit. "I'd like to talk to you about Bobby," the Catholic priest began in his Irish brogue, thanking Brenda for the cup of tea and picking up a sugar cookie. The portly minister had two weaknesses sweets was one of them. Brenda glanced over at Barry, and the two looked back at the priest sitting there in their living room. "Bobby?" Brenda asked, she and Barry thinking the same thing. Surely this could not be about that. Bobby had not mentioned his desire to become a Catholic for some time now, and they had assumed that idea had gone the same way as his earlier decision to become Jewish, which had suddenly been dropped as abruptly as it had come up. That had been about the same time the boy had developed a phobia about sharp knives, which Brenda and Barry were relieved to notice was comparatively short-lived. Bobby was always acting on impulse, becoming totally fascinated by one and then another idea. When he was in grade five and they were studying ancient Athens he'd sat down at the supper table one day and announced he wanted to become a Greek. Several days later he announced he'd changed his mind. Brenda and Barry did not know it, but that was after he'd found out from Benny that boys in Greece had stopped taking gym in the nude thousands of years ago. Back in primary school he'd announced after looking through some old issues of the National Geographic that he wanted to be an Amazon native, though he never did explain why. That had been accompanied by a phase of not wearing underwear. Unbeknownst to his parents, he'd made several elaborate penis wrappers out of bits of cloth which he'd kept hidden in the same drawer as his insect collection. Back in kindergarten he'd come home from a class visit to the fire department announcing he wanted to be a fireman because he loved "their big hoses". That had been one of his first and longest fixations, and despite his parents' attempts to find out more about the reason behind it, Bobby had not elaborated.. "I heard him singing last night with the carollers. He has a wonderful voice," Father O'Rilley observed, quickly adding, "as do you and your other boys." "Thank you," Brenda replied with a pleased smile. "Bobby does have a beautiful voice." "I'll come straight to the point," Father O'Rilley said, shifting uncomfortably, which caused Brenda and Barry to shift uncomfortably also. Had Bobby spoken to the priest about becoming Catholic? He was impulsive, and he was forward. Or had he been up to some misbehaviour? Bobby could be impish, and he was very much a boy. Perhaps he'd been caught short and had taken a leak in the manger scene. That would be like him. "Saint Mary's boys choir has been practising very hard for their role in this year's Christmas pageant production of Handel's Messiah," Father O'Rilley continued. Brenda and Barry leaned forward, listening intently to every word. The priest shifted uncomfortably again. He'd never seen such an intense couple, but then from the things he'd heard about their four boys, that was understandable. He cleared his throat. "Unfortunately, Jimmy Daley, our lead soprano singer, has come down with laryngitis. We are in desperate need of a young soprano voice. I know Bobby isn't Catholic, and it will be rather unusual, but I was wondering if you would mind if he joined our choir temporarily." "Join your choir?" "Temporarily?" "Until we've performed the pageant." "Oh," Brenda said with a large sigh. She glanced over at her husband to see what he was thinking, and from the look of relief on his face, he was evidently thinking the same as she was. "Well, I'm sure that would be all right." "Excellent!" Father O'Rilley exclaimed, his enthusiasm taking Brenda and Barry by surprise. "That is just wonderful! The pageant is one of our biggest fund ah, events, of the year, and I was so afraid that it was going to be, well, less than successful this year. Music does open up the hearts," he said as he thought "and the purse strings." If Brenda and Barry were surprised, you can imagine Bobby's surprise when he arrived home with his brothers and his parents broke the news to him. "Join the choir?" he exclaimed. "Fu-, fu-, fu-, fu ." "I think Bobby's trying to say for goodness sake yes," offered Brett. "It's only temporarily you understand," warned Brenda. "Fu-, fu-, fu-, fu-." "Fine," interpreted Brent. "Father O'Rilley said you'll probably have to practice with the choir practically every night," warned Barry. Bobby sank to his knees and stared at his mother and father in disbelief, his jaw working but no sound coming out. "For sure," supplied Benny. "When is supper?" asked Brett, knowing they'd better change this topic before Bobby found his voice and blurted out a most unchristian word. "In about an hour." "We'll go out and play in the snow a while then," Brent said, picking up on his twin brother's plan and knowing they had to get Bobby out of there. He and his brothers helped Bobby to his feet and his parents stared at them as they headed for the door. They had just come in from outside. Bobby stood there in the back yard totally speechless as he stared blankly at the back fence. "Oh maaaaaaaannnnnnn! Can you believe it?" he finally asked. "Don't how you did it, but you did," Brent responded, slapping his kid brother on the back. "You got just what you've been wanting for months. And practising every night besides." "Oh maaaaaaaannnnnnn!" "Looks like Santa has come early," observed Benny. Bobby only sighed heavily. "You better be good," advised Brett. "Don't worry. I'm gonna to be the best ever," Bobby responded, his hazel eyes sparkling. His three brothers glanced at each other. Somehow they didn't think Bobby was referring to singing. "What Brett meant is that it's the Catholic Church choir. You gotta be on your best behaviour." "Ain't I fuckin' always?" Bobby asked. "Now who's this Handel guy, and what sortta songs did he write?" Bobby began choir practice on Tuesday, Monday night being his tutoring night with Zac while the rest of the family was out of course. For the rest of the week he had a smile that extended from ear to ear and a bulge in his jeans from morning to night. Friday night it snowed and the next day found Bobby and his brothers building snowmen with Charles Elwood. They were just beginning when Troy Kholler and Ryan Poole came by on their way to hockey practice. "Awww," said Troy. "Now isn't that sweet. Look at the little children making snowmen." Chucky's grin faded as he looked at the two bullies and then at his heros. There were only two of them, but the hockey players were muscular and tough. "Jealous because you can't do as good?" asked Bobby, typically speaking before thinking. "We got better things to do," observed Ryan. "Course you and your brothers wouldn't know about doing real man type things," added Troy. "Up yours," responded Bobby. "You got a big mouth for a shrimp," retorted Troy, stepping up to the twelve-year-old menacingly. Bobby's brothers immediately tensed as they prepared to take action. "Well, shrimp. Cat got your tongue?" Troy asked, giving Bobby a rough shove. "You know what you can do with your tongue," Bobby retorted. "Oh can I now?" Troy sneered, giving Bobby another shove. By then his three brothers had joined him. "Is that what your fag brothers do to you?" he asked. "Why don't you just head on to your hockey practice," suggested Brett. "Why don't you just head on to your hockey practice," mimicked Troy in a high voice and a mincing step. "Why don't you fuckin' mind your own business? I was talking to your smart- mouth brother." Placing his left hand on Bobby's shoulder to restrain him, Brett tightened the gloved fingers of his right hand into a fist. Troy's hands made fists also. "Com'on Troy, we gotta get to practice," Ryan observed. He had no problem getting into a fight, but there were four of them to their two, and they were late for practice. Coach Brody would be angry as it was, and even angrier if they came with a black eye or something. "You're lucky pipsqueak," Troy said giving Bobby a final shove and roughly pushing past Brett. "We're in a hurry or we'd wipe up the street with you." Brent clamped his gloved hand over Bobby's mouth as he began to retort what the hockey player could wipe and with what as the two jocks continued down the street. "Those guys are complete assholes," observed Brett. "Yeah, complete," agreed Benny. He paused, and then looked at Charles. "You know what a complete asshole is?" he asked. Charles shook his head in the negative. "One that is full of shit," Benny replied with a grin and Charles laughed. Wait until he shared that one with his friends! "Com'on, let's forget about them and get back to what we were doing," Brent said. They did, but the two hockey players were difficult to forget, and the more the five of them thought about the two bullies the angrier they got. They took out their anger and energy on making snowmen. "There, what do you think?" asked Bobby, stepping back and admiring his snowman a bit later. His brothers and Chucky stepped around to look. "You're weird," observed his older brother Brett. "What?" Bobby asked innocently. "Who else would carve butt cheeks on the back of his snowman and give him a butthole?" "Yeah, well, I aim for realism," Bobby commented as he made a snow ball and then a second. "You're not going to do what I think you're going to do with those are you?" asked Brent. "Why not?" asked Bobby, placing the two snowballs exactly where Brent thought. "Snowmen should have snowballs shouldn't they?" he asked with an impish twinkle in his hazel eyes. Chucky giggled. "You gonna give him a dick too?" "Sure," said Bobby, looking around for something to use. "You could use that carrot for a dick instead of a nose," suggested Brent. "Or you could run in the house and get a wiener," suggested Benny, causing Chucky to giggle so hard he could barely stand. "I got an idea," Bobby continued. Stepping over to the house, he reached up and broke off an icicle. "It's huge," observed Chucky with a grin. "He's a Brewster snowman," observed Brett. "And its sticking up in the air," Chucky giggled as he felt his own wiener stirring in his snow pants. "Just like a Brewster," the four brothers chorused. Bobby stepped back and examined his work. Other than his modifications, it was a typical snowman, three large balls of descending size, arms and hands made out of snow, pieces of barbeque briquets for eyes, a carrot nose, and a happy grin made of pebbles. It was the same height as Benny, five foot, and probably close to his weight, a hundred and four pounds. "Frosty the snowman was a jolly happy soul With a corncob pipe and a button nose and two eyes made out of coal. Frosty the snowman is a fairy tale they say He was made of snow but the children know how he came to life one day. There must have been some magic in that old silk hat they found For when they placed it on his head he began to dance around." Bobby's clear voice rang out through the crisp afternoon air. Announcing that he had a top hat they could use, Chucky raced into his house next door and was back in an instant with the hat, part of an old costume, and an old red and green striped scarf. Frosty did cut quite a figure. While the others continued to finish off their creations, Bobby began to roll another smaller ball of snow, finally rolling it over to in front of the snowman he'd just made. Making a second still smaller ball, he placed it on top of the first so that it was level with the top of the icicle. The others could not help notice what he was doing. "You're not gonna do what I think you're gonna do," observed Benny. "What's that?" asked Bobby, knowing full well his brother knew. "Bobby, this is out in the open where everyone can see." "Well, Frosty needs another snowman," Bobby observed, finishing the face with pebbles and a carrot nose. "Why?" asked Chucky. "To give him a snowjob," Bobby said with a wide grin. "Boooobbyyyyy!" protested Brent. "This is our front yard," reminded Brett. "Mom and Dad drive in and out of the driveway every day." "Well, okay. I'll just make a little snowboy." "But you can't give him a dick and nuts, and you gotta remove those snowballs and that icicle on the snowman." "Owwwww!" Bobby replied, scrunching up his face as if in pain. "How'd you like it if some snowman came up and said that about you?" "Booob-by." "Oh okay. I'll do it before we go in." "Well, I'm done, and I'm ready to go in now. My nuts are freezing," announced Brent, stepping back and looking at his snowman, a teenager with long flowing hair and a stone necklace. "Me too," announced Brett and Benny together. "I gotta go in too," said Chucky. "My mitts are soaked and my toes are frozen off." "Wanna come to our place for hot chocolate?" "Sure!" "Save some for me," said Bobby. "I'll be in as soon as I get Frosty Junior made." As the others headed for the Brewster's house, Bobby began making a set of extra large balls as he began to sing. "O Frosty the snowman was alive as he could be And the children say he could laugh and play just the same as you and me. Thumpety thump thump thumpety thump thump Look at Frosty go Thumpety thump thump thumpety thump thump Over the hills of snow." Unbeknownst to the boys, an old friend had been watching over them that afternoon. Ali Rafaat Bazzir el Mohamed Farrad al-Karamah, a six-foot-six, two-hundred-and-fifty pound genie whom the boys had freed from a bottle the summer before last and befriended, and who still owed the boys one wish, had been floating lazily up in the sky when he'd spotted the boys and their encounter with the two grade nine hockey jocks. Having become fond of the boys, he'd watched in case they needed his help. Now as he stroked his long pencil-thin moustache, each half at least six inches long and coiling several times, and his long, black, ribbon-like goatee with also several coils, an impish joke came to mind as he watched young Bobby making the snowballs. Bending over to attach the balls to his snow boy, Bobby did not pay much attention to the shadow passing over him, or the thick snowy arms reach around him. When he did notice the tab of his fly being pulled down by a thick white thumb and a fingerless hand, he turned and looked up into the grinning face of the snowman he'd just made. He glanced around for Brent with a huge smile, figuring his brother had used his wizard spell book to animate the snowman. As the snowman pushed down his bulky cargo pants and then slipped his snowy hands under the band of his underwear and pushed them down, Bobby giggled. "Okay Brent, very funny. Where are you?" "Brent's in the house making the hot chocolate," replied Frosty. "Holy fuck, you can talk too? And with the same voice as they use on tv. Fuckin' awesome, Brent," Bobby replied with a wide grin. His brother had gone all out on this spell. "I can fuck too," said Frosty with a wide stone smile. "Turn around and bend over." "Way to go Brent!" called Bobby as he readily turned to comply. "Brent had nothing to do with this." "Honestly?" "Yes," said Frosty, placing the tip of his icicle dick against Bobby's hole. "Eeeaaaahhhhh! Fuck, that's cold," Bobby announced, pulling his butt away. "Of course. What did you think? If you wanted a hot dick you shouldn't have given me an icicle," Frosty observed as he wrapped his snowy arms about the youngster. "So Brent didn't cast a spell to make you come alive," Bobby observed, bracing himself to be penetrated by the icicle. "Scout's honour." "Scout's honour," Frosty replied, placing the tip of his ice dick against Bobby's hot little hole once again. "Then how did you, you know, come alive?" Bobby asked as he opened his anus as wide as he could. After Santa and Bigfoot and travelling back to Sodom and messing around with Lot and a couple angels, getting fucked by a living, talking snowman did not seem the least bit unusual for the twelve-year-old boy. "Must have been the hat," Frosty replied. "Or maybe the sight of your cute little butt." "Bet it was my butt," said Bobby seriously. "Fuck, this is so cool!" "Of course. I'm a snowman, remember?" The two chuckled at the double meaning of the word "cool" as Frosty slowly sank his icicle up Bobby's butt. "Bet you're sorry you gave me such a big one." "Fuck no," said Bobby wiggling down farther on it, "I'm glad I did." Spreading apart his legs as best he could with his cargo pants and underwear about his ankles and grasping the head of the snow boy, Bobby inhaled deeply as Frosty pressed forward until his huge snowballs were wedged against the cord extending from Bobby's anus to his balls and his icicle was deep up Bobby's bowels. Wrapping his snow arms tighter about Bobby's chest, Frosty slowly rocked back, drawing his icicle out of Bobby's hot depths, and then he rocked forward, sinking it back in. It was awesome getting fucked anytime, but getting his ass screwed by an icicle felt especially awesome. Bent over with his pants and underwear about his ankles and his bare butt and privates exposed to the cold air, Bobby was freezing while his asshole was burning hot at the same time, which was really blowing his mind. He was sure the icicle was being plunged half way up his guts, and whereas sometimes the heat of his rectum made it difficult to feel a guy's cock inside him, he could distinctly feel the entire length of the ice cold icicle. His sphincter was frigid despite the hot ripples of arousal pulsating through it, and his cold-shrivelled dick was as small as ten-month-old Blakey's. His little hairless balls had drawn back up inside his body for protection so he looked like a little eunuch, a cute twelve-year-old eunuch being fucked silly by a big snowman. Bobby was totally ecstatic. This was so wicked getting his ass fucked in his front yard by his own snowman. He wished his brothers were there to see. Despite how cold his naked butt and exposed groin and legs felt with his pants pulled down, and even though his sphincter felt like it was frozen, Bobby felt himself getting aroused. He was, after all, a twelve-year-old boy, and the ice-cold probe stuck up his ass was rubbing against his prostate, sending shivers of arousal through his groin and up his frozen but swelling little cocklet. The icicle felt so huge and so long, and Bobby could feel it deep up his rectum as Frosty eased it in until his big snowy belly was pressed against Bobby's smooth, compact butt, and his huge snowballs wedged in between his frozen legs. Puffs of breath panted from Bobby's rosy lips and froze on his long, fluttering eyelashes as he grunted and gasped in ecstasy. His bright red cheeks glowed as the boy groaned with delight and Frosty tightened his arms about Bobby's upper torso as he began to thrust his ice cock in and out of the hot young boy faster and faster. Having just been created, this would be his first orgasm, and he rocked back and forth with delighted pleasure and with anticipation. "Holy shit!" Brett exclaimed as he looked out the living room window to see what was taking his kid brother so long. "What?" asked Brent as he and the others came from the kitchen with their steaming mugs of hot chocolate. "Come see what our kid brother is up to now!" "What? He writing dirty words in the snow with his piss again?" asked Brent. The first time Bobby had done that he hadn't even known how to spell most of them. "Oh maaaaannnnn!" exclaimed Benny. "The little jerkoff! Suppose Miss Pringle sees him?" he asked, thinking of their elderly neighbour whose property joined theirs. "Or ol'man Swanson across the street!" Pulling on their winter boots, Bobby's three brothers and Chucky grabbed their winter coats and dashed out of the house. Having reached his orgasm, Frosty had ceased rocking and was standing there rigidly and silently as you would expect of a snowman as he enjoyed the glow that follows the male climax. Bobby was still in the throes of his orgasm and neither heard nor saw Charles or his brothers as he quivered and groaned with the ripples of pleasure shooting through his body. "Bobby! What do you think you're doing?" asked Brett. "Having a fuckin' orgasm," Bobby panted, his eyes half closed as he gasped for breath. "You horny little wanker, suppose Miss Pringle were to step outside and see you?" "She'd just have to wait her turn for Frosty's dick," Bobby replied, his chest heaving as he inhaled and exhaled deeply. The twelve-year-old suddenly felt very light-headed. His little cocklet, which had gotten stiff from the massaging of his prostate, began to droop. His brothers stood there helplessly, knowing there was nothing they'd be able to do until their kid brother came down from his high. Chucky stared at his young hero with wide-eyed awe as he wondered what it would be like to stick an icicle up his bumhole. Finally Bobby slowly eased off the ice probe up his ass. Turning around with his cargo pants and underwear still about his ankles and his asshole now feeling so empty, he looked at the icicle that had been up his ass and a look of dismay passed over his face. "Aww, look Frosty, we melted the end." His lips curled and he giggled. "I guess that is how a snowman cums, huh?" he asked as he looked up at the grinning face, oblivious to the fact his backside, privates, and legs were still exposed to the cold winter air and he was standing in his front yard. "Oh maaaaan, are you weird," observed Benny. "First you bugger yourself on an icicle, and now you're talking to a snowman." "He's alive. Com'on, talk Frosty," urged Bobby. "Tell them how you saw my cute butt and couldn't resist it. Frosty?" He pushed against the snowman gently. "Frosty?" Frosty stood there silently with a happy pebble grin on his face and a still dripping icicle now knocked askew from Bobby's agitation. He was still revelling in his first ever orgasm and didn't want to interrupt the pleasure. "Yeah right. Brother, you've got to stop wanking so much. You've totally destroyed your brain cells." "But he was alive, honest," Bobby protested as he pulled up his underwear and cargo pants. Suddenly realizing just how cold he was, the twelve-year-old shivered violently. "I'm sure he was. Com'on in and have some hot chocolate. It will warm you up and you'll feel better," Brent consoled, putting his arm about his kid brother. "Will you blow it up my butt? My asshole's frozen," Bobby observed. "That could be interesting," Brett observed as he stepped up on the other side of his brother and wrapped his arm about him too. His brother could be a major pain in the butt like all kid brothers could, but he did love the little wanker, and his impulsiveness did worry him sometimes. As they headed up the front walk, he could not help but think about the way Bobby could fill his mouth full of hot chocolate and then blow them. Blowing hot chocolate up Bobby's asshole would be erotic. Fucking it while it was full of hot chocolate would be even more erotic! The sixteen-year-old felt his cock begin to swell. "Can you imagine what it'd look like when I poop it back out?" Bobby asked with a grin. The five boys imagined the sight as they approached the front door. "We'll have to be careful we don't put the mug down with the other mugs or we might accidentally drink it," Bobby added impishly, having already decided he wanted one of his brothers to do it to him. "Ewwwww!" the five boys said together. Ali smiled as the youngsters entered the house. It was impossible not to like the little imps. He considered slipping into the house and watching the boys getting it on with each other, but he knew that would only get him horny, and then he'd have a problem. Of course he knew they'd be more than willing to help him resolve the problem if he revealed himself to them, and having a hot session with the boys again was tempting, but he didn't want to intrude on them, and especially when they had a young guest whom he had not met. He was about to fly off to find his own amusement when he spotted Troy and Ryan returning from their hockey practice. The two boys stopped and looked over at the snowmen in the Brewster yard. "Those guys are such wimps," observed Troy. "Yeah," agreed his buddy, who agreed with everything Troy said. "Making snowmen," Troy snorted. "What little kid stuff." "Yeah, little kid stuff." "Let's show them what we think of their snowmen." "What do you mean?" "Let's trash them." "Yeah, let's." Walking over to the closest snowman, Troy brought his foot back in preparation to kicking the snowman apart while Ryan headed over to the one Chucky had made and raised his hockey stick. To Troy's surprise he felt his foot suddenly being pulled back farther, tipping him over so he fell flat on his face in the snow. At the same time Ryan felt his hockey stick being pulled out of his hands. As the fourteen-year-old youth turned around in surprise, his buddy rolled over. They looked at the snowman standing between them in bewilderment. They would have sworn he had not been there a second ago. "Pull down your pants and your underwear," Frosty ordered. No punk bullies were going to mess with him, or ruin things for his little creator. The two boys glanced at each other and then back at the grinning snowman. "You heard me." "What the fuck is this?" Troy asked, raising himself on his elbows and looking around. A talking snowman? That was impossible. He had to be hallucinating from hitting his head when he fell. Ryan looked around in bewilderment also. This had to be some trick, ventriloquism or something. He looked down at his best friend, hoping he had an answer. Frosty suddenly jumped up in the air and landed with a thump on Troy's chest, flattening the muscular jock on his back and knocking the wind out of him. At the same time he swung Ryan's hockey stick around, connecting between the boy's legs and causing him to yelp as he doubled over in pain. The boys quickly realized this was indeed very possible, and it was no hallucination, and no trick. "Now, pull down your pants and underwear or I'll hop on your face," Frosty said, his permanent grin smiling down at Troy. The weight of the three huge snowballs on his chest was making it next to impossible to breathe, and the thought of the snowman standing on his face was enough to make the boy reach down and begin to unbuckle his trousers. He didn't understand how this could be, but he certainly was not about to question what was happening. If the snowman really did hop on his face, he'd suffocate! "You too," Frosty said, looking over at Ryan and swinging the hockey stick menacingly. "Or I'll play a bit of hockey using your balls for pucks." Ryan turned as white as Frosty. Getting hit between the legs accidentally was enough to bring tears to a guy's eyes. Getting hit on purpose could ruin him for life. He quickly began unbuckling his jeans. As the two boys unbuckled their belts and pulled down their flies, they tried desperately to make some sense out of what was going on. They'd each had a coke and had shared a helping of Nachos and melted cheese after hockey practice. Had someone spiked their cokes or their Nachos with some sort of hallucinogenic drug? That could be a logical explanation, and it certainly was not something unheard of. They'd heard of times where guys had drugged others for a lark. That, however, was at parties where everyone was already tripping, and more often it was guys drugging girls so they could get in their panties. Drugging them did not make any sense, especially if the person wasn't around to see the result. Besides, who would want to do that to them anyway? The Brewster brothers were the first to come to mind, but the wimps wouldn't even know where to get drugs, and besides, they wouldn't have the guts to actually spike their drinks or food. Still, they could think of nobody else, and the more they thought about it, the more convinced they became that the Brewsters were the culprits. Their thoughts turned to Brent. He could have been in the arena without them noticing him, and he could have done it because of the way they'd pushed his smart-mouth kid brother around. He also had a personal reason, having been the object of their teasing many times. With hockey practice and figure skating practice often being back to back or in adjoining arenas, they saw almost as much of him as they did Benny, and certainly more than the other two Brewsters. Now there was a real fem, with his earring and nipple ring and being a figure skater and all. And there was a real fag sport. Rumours were that Brent and his buddy Billy were fags, maybe even lovers. Nobody said it too loudly though. Rumours also were that Billy worshipped the devil, and the gothic punk dressed and acted the part. Now that was one dude you didn't want to anger. Both boys wondered if it was Billy who was the culprit. That there was animosity between them and the Brewsters was no secret, especially after being tricked into that embarrassing scene at the Sadie Hawkins dance where they had to throw their boxers with their names and phone numbers written on them up on the stage. And, lovers or not, Brent and Billy were close. Was this some sort of satanic thing, a killer snowman? It could be, like the thriller movie where the killer was dressed up as a clown, or that movie where the doll Chucky was a demon. The little kid that hung around with the Brewsters, his name was Chucky. The possibility that he was not a real boy flashed through their terrified minds. Maybe he was some diabolical creation of Brent and Billy's. If he was, then it was not that crazy an idea that Brent had gotten tired of their teasing and their bullying and gotten his boyfriend to conjure up a killer snowman. They never had gotten their underwear back that night of the dance. Warlocks used things like hair and body fluids in their witchcraft, and what better source than the crotches of their boxers? At the moment the two boys were ready to fill their boxers. With those fearful thoughts and his heart pounding in his chest, Troy pushed down his jeans and his underwear. If he cooperated maybe the diabolical snowman wouldn't kill him. Maybe it just wanted to frighten him. It was succeeding at that! As he lay there on his back, a combination of the cold snow on his bare butt, the cold winter air on his groin and legs, and his morbid thoughts turned his skin into gooseflesh. Ryan had been having the same thoughts as he'd pushed his boxers and pants down, and he also trembled with fear as much as with the cold as he stood there with the winter air blowing between his legs and his privates exposed and vulnerable. It was six in the evening and it had gotten dark. Frosty suddenly jumped off Troy, causing Ryan to jump in fear and Troy to almost have a heart attack. "Play with yourselves. I want to see you get hard." The two fourteen-year-old jocks immediately reached down and picking up their cold, limp dicks, began to fondle them. Forcing them to play with themselves in front of each other was minor compared to some of the things the two boys had imagined the demonic snowman doing to them. It was embarrassing, but the fondling at least helped to bring some warmth to their freezing flesh. Despite the cold and their fear they began to get hard. They were fourteen after all, and it was not as if there was not already a well-established connection between their dicks, hand and brain. Slowly their limp cocks began to fill with blood. Satisfied with their progress, Frosty ordered Ryan to turn around and back up on the carrot nose of the snow boy Bobby had made. Too frightened to question the order, Ryan turned and stepped back. He'd do anything this creation of the Brewster boy's Satan-worshipping lover told him to do. As he felt the tip against his anus, he slowly pushed back and grimaced with the pain. He instinctively opened his anus in the hopes of reducing the hurt as he shuffled back further. It was a long but slender carrot and Ryan sat on it without too much difficulty. It felt weird feeling it penetrating his backside, and to his surprise, erotic. Prickles of stimulation shot through his sphincter, prickles that were both painful and stimulating. His dick lifted up off his balls in growing arousal, much to his further embarrassment and dismay. What sort of guy got turned on sitting on a carrot for Chrissake? He knew the answer to that and immediately pushed the question from his mind. There was no way he was that kind of boy! Totally rejecting that idea and struggling to find another, he continued to back down upon orders from Frosty until his bare backside was pressing against the face of the snow boy and the carrot was up his asshole as far as it could reach. He tried to ignore the pleasure that brought, but it was impossible to ignore. He stared down at the ground and wished that this ordeal would be over. Telling the boy to stay that way, Frosty turned his attention to Troy. Having the boy get to his feet, he told him to turn and bend over. Like Ryan, the fourteen-year-old had convinced himself Brent's gothic boyfriend had bewitched the snowman, and with his mind fuelled by horror movies and television trillers, as humiliating and as perverted as what the snowman was about to do to him, it was a relief compared to what he'd been expecting. Hopping up behind the boy, Frosty positioned the tip of his icicle cock against the youth's anus and wrapped his arms about the boy's waist. He slowly leaned forward, easing his slender ice-cold probe into the teenage boy's hot rectum. He was careful and gentle knowing Troy was a virgin, and Troy instinctively opened wide in response to the hard, cold icicle easing into his body. He inhaled sharply. At least the icy probe was penetrating his ass and not his heart. Frosty continued to lean forward until his body was pressing against the teenager's smooth buttocks and his snowballs were pressed up against the boy's nuts, which had drawn up into tight little marbles in response to the cold. Telling Ryan that he wanted him to ride the carrot that was up his ass until he came, Frosty stood there and watched the boy as he slowly and obediently began to work his hips to and fro, easing himself up the carrot and then sinking back down on it. As the carrot brushed past his prostate, the fourteen-year-old jock trembled with the strange new sensation pulsating through his groin and up his still limp cock. As he continued, the erotic sensation caused his cock to rise up stiff and hot despite being exposed to the early evening air. His face turned a bright red as he rode up and down on the carrot, ashamed that it was turning him on, embarrassed to be seen with an erection by his best buddy, and mortified by the reason he'd gotten erect. Troy had to be thinking he was some sort of fag getting turned on by a carrot stuck up his ass. Frosty slowly rocked back, easing his icicle cock almost out of Troy's virgin ass. As it brushed past his prostate, the boy shivered and like Ryan, the boy found his cock swelling and rising in response as Frosty rocked to and fro, massaging the teenager's prostate with his ice cock. Troy could not believe what was happening! It was a nightmare. His ass was being fucked for Chrissake, and it was being fucked by a snowman! Even more of a nightmare was that he was getting turned on by it. That was impossible. He was no fag boy, but his slowly rising cock said otherwise, and there was nothing he could do to hide what was happening from his best buddy, who he'd noticed was getting off buggering himself with a carrot. Of course Ryan could not help but notice his best buddy's similar reaction to having an icicle stuck up his asshole. That made him feel a bit better, but not by a whole lot. Realizing he'd been staring at Troy's erection, he quickly glanced away but not before Troy had noticed. Now Troy would really be thinking he was some sort of fag. Of course Troy had looked at him. Could it be that Troy was a closet queer? Was the reason he teased the Brewsters was because secretly he had the hots for them? Getting his ass fucked had turned him on after all, and that wasn't the same as being forced to sit on a carrot. It wasn't the same at all. The two boys shivered as their prostates were stroked, the one by the carrot and the other by the icicle. As he tried to sort out the confusing thoughts in his mind, Ryan worked his young body to and fro, riding the carrot as though his life depended on it, and which he figured it did. There was no doubt in his mind that if he did not do as he was told the maniacal snowman would make his life a lot worse, possibly even end it. Besides, it did not feel that bad, and as he swayed to and fro he felt thrills ripple through his groin and his erect cock like the virgin boy had never felt before. He wondered, for a brief moment, if this was how a gay boy felt getting fucked, but he quickly pushed that thought from his mind. No way! He was not that type of boy! Still, he could not ignore the fact that his erect five-inch cock was jerking hotly in the cold night air and he was trembling with the pleasure the carrot up his ass was bringing. Troy was just as aroused, and as Frosty rocked back and forth the virgin boy trembled and inhaled deeply with the pleasure pulsating through his rectum and his erect cock. His asshole was frozen, but hot ripples of arousal were pulsating through it as the icicle eased in and out and from his prostate as it was stroked. His erect cock was jutting out in the air and throbbing with arousal also as a result of the stroking of his prostate, and even though his nuts had drawn up tightly under his stiff cock in response to the cold, he was feeling hornier than he ever had before, even hornier than the night he'd gotten as far as getting Eliza Decore's tits out of her bra. Unlike that night, the fourteen-year-old boy was horrified by how hot he was feeling. With the cold it took a bit longer than it would normally have, but eventually the two boys were on the brink of coming. Their frozen breaths puffed out of their parted lips, and they grunted and squirmed as their cocks wagged in the air desperately and their shrunken nuts struggled to perform their duty. The two boys were tempted to reach down and wank themselves over the brink, but they dare not in the presence of each other. That would only confirm they were some sort of pervert. Just at that moment, Dennis Beacher, the older brother of David, one of the boys' teammates, drove by with his parents' van. Their father, along with several other hockey parents, took turns taking the boys who needed a ride home after hockey practice. On that particular night he'd been unable to and his oldest son was substituting for him. Heading in the other direction was Ellen Decore, Eliza's older sister, taking several junior and senior high school girls home after an afternoon of Christmas shopping. Uncertain what exactly was going on but recognizing Troy, Eliza asked her sister to pull over. To their total shock there were Troy Kholler and his best buddy Ryan Poole, two of the hunkiest guys in grade nine, with their pants and boxers about their ankles, Troy with an icicle up his ass and Ryan with a carrot, the two boys not just with woodies but shooting out a load. The carload of girls turned a bright red as they glanced at each other and one by one put a hand up to cover their eyes. Also one by one, they slowly turned to view the scene on the Brewster's front lawn through parted fingers, this being too novel and too wicked not to. Few had ever seen a boy's privates before, even fewer had ever seen a boy in an erect state, and only two had ever seen a boy ejaculate. None of them had ever imagined let alone seen what was happening on the Brewster front lawn! They knew boys could be horny, and perverted, but this was unbelievable. The van of teammates had also pulled over to check out what was happening and were just as shocked. They'd all been horny at one time or another, but not this desperate. What sort of perverts buggered themselves, and especially on the front lawn with two snowmen, one with a carrot and one with an icicle of all things? Troy was buggering himself so violently in fact that the snowman behind him was rocking. The two of them not only had boners, but they were actually coming! Now that was sick! What sort of guy got that hot having his ass buggered? And, what sort of guy got off that way along with a buddy? The boys stared in disbelief, and each of them was thinking the same thing. They weren't stripping down or showering in front of those two perverts in the future. At the same time as the two vehicles had pulled up outside, Chucky had put on his coat and was about to step out the door and head home. He and the Brewsters stood there staring out the living room window at what was going on out on their lawn. It took several moments for everything to register, Troy and Ryan and the two snowmen, the car of girls and the van of hockey players. They stared in disbelief. It was like the climax of one of their pranks, but they had nothing to do with this. They glanced at each other and then turned to watch the scene on their lawn. This was certainly not the type of behaviour they'd expected of Troy and Ryan, and although they could empathize with how they felt getting their asses plowed, the five boys did not have any sympathy for the bullies having gotten caught in the act. Their minds already muddled and their fragile psyches in total confusion, the two boys were torn with conflicting emotions. Their first response upon seeing the headlights of the two vehicles had been one of exhilaration. The drivers would see them and they would be saved. If the drivers didn't smash apart their attacker, at least their arrival would scare him off. Of course they had no idea what sort of powers he had. Their arrival could also accelerate things and instead of playing with them, the demonic snowman could be forced to murder them, and the drivers. As the vehicles approached, the two boys' thoughts turned to the state they were in and instead of hoping for rescue, they hoped that the drivers would not see them in the dark and would drive on. Their pants and underwear were about their ankles and they had full erections. Then as the vehicles slowed down and the two boys realized who the occupants were as they began to ejaculate, sexual pleasure and total mortification swept through their minds and their bodies. Ripples of orgasm pulsated through their loins and their hot, throbbing cocks burned with that ultimate pleasure as they shot their loads. At the same time, the humiliation of being caught with their pants and underwear down, a carrot and an icicle shoved up their asses, and shooting off a load out in the open before their teammates and their classmates caused their faces to burn as hotly as their dickheads and they wished they could shrivel up and disappear. Troy's humiliation overcame his fear. Pulling himself off the icicle, the fourteen-year-old turned and looked at Frosty, ready to die and expecting him to plunge the icicle that his been up his arse now through his heart. The snowman stood there rigidly with a fixed smile just like you would expect a snowman to do. You would never know he was alive. Had the headlights of the two vehicles caused him to revert back to an inanimate form? Perhaps he was intending on hiding in that form until the vehicles left again, or maybe only until the new arrivals stepped out of their vehicles so he could slaughter them all. Ryan looked at Frosty fearfully also and with his pounding heart sinking with dread, he pulled himself off the carrot. He glanced over at Troy, and then over at the two vehicles. He could not be sure who all was inside, but he had a good idea, just as he had a good idea what they were thinking. Expecting the snowman to leap forward and rip off his head any moment, he bent over and began to pull up his trousers and underwear. Following his lead, Troy did likewise, noticing at the same time that the Brewsters and Chucky were staring at them through the living room window. The boys struggled with the decision if they should made a run for the house or for the vehicles. Their empty asses were a powerful reminder of what they'd just been caught doing. Instead of dashing to safety, the boys chose humiliation over fear for their motivation, and raced down the sidewalk and up the first alley. Ryan did not know it at the time, but Rochelle Whistler, one of the girls who had the hots for him simply because he was a hockey player and in whose panties he'd been hoping to get into, was in the car with Eliza. Had he chosen to race to the car for safety, he probably would have died of embarrassment on the spot. Reaching the next street, the boys turned and dashed up it. Neither the snowman nor the two vehicles were following. They continued to run, heading in the direction of their homes. They did not stop until they were behind locked doors, and it took hours before they calmed down enough to think rationally about what had happened. They did not know how, but they were certain the Brewsters were the cause of their fright and humiliation, and they were adamant they would get even. They did not know how, but they knew they would. More immediately, what they did not know was how they were going to face everyone at school on Monday. This gossip was going to be too juicy for those in the two cars not to spread the news throughout the school. Troy and Ryan would lay awake all night without coming to an answer to that problem. As the boys had been making a mad dash home, the cars pulled away and the Brewsters stepped outside to check things out. "What the hell do you suppose that was all about?" Brett asked as he looked around at the footprints and impressions in the snow. The five boys looked at each other and shook their heads. "Who'd have thought those two especially would like getting their ass stuffed?" asked Brent in amazement. "So much that they'd get off with our snowmen of all things," commented Benny. "Now that's really perverted." There was a hint of envy in the fourteen-year-old's voice as he pictured the scene he'd witnessed in his mind. "Oh, I dunno. Frosty can be irresistible," Bobby observed, "and getting off with a snowman isn't that perverted." As he looked up at Frosty, the briquette eye winked and Bobby giggled. His brothers and Chucky looked at him and shook their heads. They were discovering that there were some things that just could not be explained. Bobby was often one of them. The next morning when they got up, they were dismayed to find that Frosty had disappeared. At first they thought he'd been smashed during the night, but finding nothing remaining of him, they concluded that he had been stolen. The names Troy Kholler and Ryan Poole came immediately to mind. As they headed off to church, Bobby to Saint Mary's and the rest to Saint Alban's Anglican, they knew they should be forgiving, but they did not feel in the mood. Dropping their boys off back home after church, Barry and Brenda headed over to the community centre to help decorate it for a turkey supper for the homeless. The boys immediately checked out their front yard more carefully. Spotting a pattern of indentations in the snow, they followed the circular indentations around to their back yard where they discovered Frosty standing in the corner by the bird feeder. "Oh, Frosty, I thought someone had trashed you," Bobby said happily as he wrapped his arms about the snowman. His brothers glanced at each other. Their kid brother had definitely been wanking far too much. "Those morons tried yesterday, but I showed them a trick or two," Frosty replied, grinning down at the twelve-year-old with his fixed, stone smile. "You can talk," Benny said in surprise as he and the twins looked at each other and then up at the snowman. "Of course I can," Frosty said indignantly. "I have a mouth, don't I?" "But, how ," Brent began, looking at the snowman in surprise. He and his brothers looked at their kid brother and Bobby wiggled his butt as he flashed them a wide grin. "Never mind," Brent continued. "I don't think we want to know." "So what exactly did happen on our front lawn yesterday?" Bobby asked. By the time Frosty finished explaining what had happened, the boys were rolling in the snow in laugher. "Serves them right," observed Benny. "Oh yeah. Is it ever going to be something so see them at school on Monday!" exclaimed Bobby, and they all broke into another round of laughter, including Frosty. "Too bad I can't come to school with you to see," Frosty observed. "Well, we could take you on the toboggan." "That'd be fucking awesome," Frosty replied, and considering that Bobby had made him, his brothers did not find the comment a surprise. "So, I never asked yesterday. You like the way I made you?" "Oh fuck yeah, especially my butt," Frosty said, grinning at Bobby. "And giving me an icicle dick was a great idea." "As you wear it down, you can replace it," said Brett. "Guess that's one advantage of being a snowman over a human." "Actually, the more humans use theirs the better," observed Benny. "It's sortta like exercising a muscle. You know, if you don't use it, you lose it." "So, you want to exercise your muscles?" asked Frosty, looking at the four boys impishly. That was a foolish thing to ask the Brewsters. Brent admitted that ever since he'd seen Bobby getting his ass fucked he had been eager to find out what an ice dick up his ass would be like, and Brett and Bobby both admitted that they had fantasized last night what it might be like to try out Frosty's butt, not just because they'd never fucked a snowman's butt before, but also because it was virgin. They quickly decided Bobby would have first crack since he was the one who'd made Frosty and who'd fashioned his backside. So while Brent dropped his pants and underwear and eagerly bent over, Bobby dropped his and stepped up behind Frosty. Placing the tip of his ice dick against Brent's hole, the snowman slowly leaned forward and Brent immediately pushed out from years of experience despite the cold against his tender rosebud. The sixteen-year-old inhaled sharply as he felt the icicle slowly begin to ease up his rectum and he pushed out all the harder. He'd been fucked up the ass plenty of times, but this was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. His sphincter itched with irritation just like when Billy or one of his brothers sunk their cock up his ass, but at the same time it clenched shut with the cold. Even clenched shut it could not prevent Frosty's advance. Brent could feel the icicle penetrating him, slowly filling his rectum, but unlike a hot cock that seemed to join and become part of him, it felt foreign and apart from him. There was also the fact that he was being fucked by a snowman, and despite the unusual experiences he'd had, that was not something one just accepted as being an everyday occurrence. Having sunk his icicle dick up Brent's ass as far as he could, Frosty paused as Bobby stepped up behind him. Waiting until he felt the twelve-year-old's hot little dicklet pressing against his butthole, he slowly drew back, easing his icicle out of Brent's asshole while backing down on Bobby's little stiff cocklet. Despite the ice cold, Bobby's young cock stayed hard and fully extended and the snowman felt hot, pulsating flesh penetrate his body for the first time. Bobby, meanwhile, could not believe how weird it was to have his hot little dicklet enveloped by compact, ice-cold snow. This was totally unlike sinking his dick up someone's hot butt, but it felt just as great. So while Brett and Benny watched, the snowman slowly began to rock back and forth, easing his ice cock in and out of the older Brewster while the youngest Brewster's cock eased in and out of his snowhole. The heat of Brent's rectum and the friction caused Frosty's icicle to begin to melt, and the heat of Bobby's cock caused his packed backside to begin to melt also, the ice water dripping out of his hole and down over Bobby's hairless balls. The cold caused the boys to reach their orgasms much later than usual, and they found the extended arousal awesome, but eventually they could not ignore nature. Brent gasped and groaned as his load shot out of his cock, the result of the constant stroking of his prostate. It flew through the air and landed in the snow in hot little puddles. Bobby meanwhile quivered with his dry orgasm, his eyes closed and his long lashes fluttering as his rosy lips curled into a smile of ecstasy. Frosty sighed as only a snowman could and trembled with his own unique, delightful orgasm. Brett and Benny stepped up next. Frosty knelt down and while Brett did him doggy style, Benny stood in front of him, grasping his hot little poker by the base and slowly easing it in his face, creating a new opening. The two boys were horny and hot, and the ice cold snow did nothing to dampen their desires. Brett worked his hips to and fro, working his stiff six-and-a- quarter inch cock in and out of the tight, smooth, snowy butt while Benny worked his hips to and fro, easing his cock in and out of Frosty's smiling mouth. Frosty was clearly enjoying himself and his icicle dick jerked up and down in the air. Soon the three were cuming, Brent up Frosty's asshole, Benny in his mouth, and Frosty's dick once again shooting clear water. A drool of Benny's cum oozed out of the snowman's mouth and ran down over his chin where it froze. After hopping back to the front lawn to join the other snowmen and where he could watch the cars and the carollers come by, Frosty assured them he would be alright and that he understood why they could not take him inside with them. Heating up some hot cocoa, the boys took their mugs and a bag of marshmallows to their room. Dunking the marshmallows in the hot chocolate, they drank the first mug fulls to warm themselves up, and then heating up a second in the microwave, they stripped down for some typical Brewster fun. Filling his butt with hot chocolate and taking a large mouthful of cocoa and marshmallow, Bobby got down on his hands and knees as Brent knelt before him for a blow job and Brett knelt behind him to plug his ass. Benny, meanwhile, filled Brent's asshole with cocoa, and then penetrated it with his dick. The four brothers happily fucked away, Brett and Benny working their hips back and forth and delighting in the sensation of hot cocoa flowing about their dickheads. Brent threw back his head and sighed as Bobby slushed the hot cocoa about his dick head and ran his expert tongue around the exposed knob. Bobby sucked deeply as Brett fiddled with his cock and Brent ran his fingers through his hair. Soon all four were shooting off, Brett up Bobby's butt and Benny up Brent's as Brent filled Bobby's mouth with his teen cum. Bobby swallowed it along with the dick flavoured cocoa as his body quivered with his own dry orgasm. Outside, a snowman hummed to himself as he stroked his icicle. He knew he was in for a delightful winter, and when the time came when he could no longer stay, he'd already decided he'd spend half of the hot months at the north pole where he was sure Santa and the elves could use a horny snowman, and he'd take his summer holidays in the Antarctic where he was just as sure the isolated scientists would welcome an alternative way to get off their nuts, and if they didn't, there were always a lot of penguins strutting around. O Frosty the snowman was alive as he could be And the children say he could laugh and play just the same as you and me Thumpety thump thump thumpety thump thump Look at Frosty go Thumpety thump thump thumpety thump thump Over the hills of snow.