Here's part 11 of the story. As always, this is purely fictional. No real boys were hurt while writing this, please do not hurt any while reading or afterwards. Thanks!
It shouldn’t really surprise you, if you’ve been reading through all the previous 10 parts of ‘The weeping boy’, but English is only my second language. I hope you will forgive me for any linguistic errors I might have made.
I have to admit, I did consider ending the story with this part, but as I proofread it, I realized there were simply too many loose ends to just end it like that. So, I will keep writing, and I’ll do my best not to rush through to the end.
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- or how I became what I am today.
John gets punished.
John was thinking hard, I could tell from his expression. I knew he wanted to be fucked. After all, that was the reason for him getting plugged for the night when he slept over at my house. The plan I had made him agree to, was to wait for his eight birthday. Then, I’d fuck him as my gift to him. I had deviated from that plan, as had he, when he wanted to be plugged for an entire day. It had only been the second smallest plug, but it had about the same circumference as my cock, at least the widest part of the plug.
“No,” John finally said.
“Yes. I don’t wanna tonight.”
“Okay, buddy. Whenever you want to, just ask.”
John looked relieved, but also very tired. His face was a bit red from where I had scrubbed it to remove the camouflage paint, the battle makeup. He had been crying too when the shampoo got into his eyes and when I wouldn’t let up on the scrubbing. I had to be the tough one, telling him if he was old enough to play, he was old enough to pay. I shed some tears of my own, both when I removed his face paint and when I had to clean my own face.
I tucked John in, in my bed. He was unplugged and not diapered. Just wore his two piece Peter Pan pajamas. His butthole was okay, if you didn’t know, you probably couldn’t have seen the boy had been plugged for so long. But, the skin between his butt cheeks, especially part of his perineum bore evidence of something having caused irritation. I suppose sweat and the constant rubbing of the silicone against his skin had resulted in a slight rash.
I had put some Preparation H on the rash, hoping it would clear up overnight. Even if John didn’t complain about it being sore, I knew it had to be uncomfortable to him.
I kissed him goodnight, just a quick kiss, but he did open his mouth and let my tongue inside for a moment. So, at least one part of my body had entered his, even if it wasn’t what I had really wanted. Instead I jacked off to a movie clip of a young guy sucking off an older one, remembering the feelings from that morning when John had sucked me off. Before I went to bed, I slipped John’s bottoms off the sleeping child, put on another coating of Preparation H and redressed him. He slept through all of that.
The next morning I woke before John did. It was a quarter to 8, which amazed me, as usually both Andy and John would be running amok at that time, no matter what day of the week it was. He was curled up with his back touching my side, so I turned to face him and hugged him from behind. My hand ended up on his warm chest and I felt it moving slowly as he breathed in and out. I left it there for a minute or so, before it almost on its own moved down to his belly.
His pajamas top had bunched up leaving a gap of exposed skin from where the top ended and his shorts started. Gently my hand moved across this no-man’s land and in underneath his shorts. I felt the smoothness of his pubis, bumped into his soft penis and his wrinkled ball sack. I could feel the two hard lumps inside as I put a bit of pressure around his sack. John moved a little in his sleep, straightened out his legs and spread his knees just a little.
He was still asleep, I knew, as his breathing pattern hadn’t changed at all. I let go of his balls and pulled my hand away from his warm crotch. Ever so slowly I moved away from his body and turned him onto his back. It was time to wake the kid. He had woke me up by sucking my dick the previous morning and I wanted to do the same to him. I got his shorts down and off his legs still without waking him, even as he kind of tried to prevent me to strip him in his sleep.
As his shorts were lowered, he turned onto his side and when I pulled them off his feet, he tried to roll over onto his tummy. I could’ve just as well licked and rimmed his little butt hole, but with the cream I put on it the night before, I really didn’t feel like doing that. Even if most of it had probably been absorbed by his skin or vaporized overnight. I put my hand on his hip as he tried to roll over and held him back. He tried a couple of more times to roll over.
When he settled back down and was yet again fully relaxed, I pushed him onto his back and spread his knees wide. Lapping at his ball sack like a dog might have done, I begun the wakeup procedure. His dink responded in kind and started filling with blood. When it stood as firm as possible, I switched to licking and sucking it instead of his balls. John’s dink, circumcised as it was, really had an exquisite taste. It took a few minutes for John’s mind to bring him out of his deep sleep.
He moved his hands down towards his dink, only to bump into my forehead. His fingers explored the unexpected obstruction then tried in vain to push my head out of the way. He woke up mumbling a few incoherent words then jolted his upper body up.
“Oh,” he said as he saw what was causing the feelings in his dick and lay back down. I heard him yawn big time as he stretched his arms up and over his head. He stretched his legs out afterwards then relaxed them again. He lay there letting me do what I wanted to his dick for a few more moments, then suddenly grabbed my head and pushed his midsection away from the bed. His dick jumped one time in my mouth and he gasped out a breath.
Before his dick could jump again, a short burst of pee shot into my mouth. John moaned as another burst shot out. My mouth was rapidly filling with the acrid fluid, and albeit it came from a very cute, young kid, I wasn’t prepared to drink all of what was inside his bladder. I didn’t mind watersports as long as the person doing the peeing had a lot of water beforehand. But this was John’s first pee of the day, quite strong stuff. Like taking a huge drink of beer, only to realize it was really whiskey.
So I turned off the tap, killed his stream, quite brutally too. I squeezed the stalk of his penis just where it jutted out from his body. Squeezed it tight too. I’m sure it didn’t add to John’s pleasure having his pee cut off like that, but he survived to live another day. I quickly swallowed what had gotten into my mouth and moved away from his still quite erect dick. But I still held on tight to his dick. I didn’t know if he had managed to reclaim control of his bladder and I sure didn’t want him to pee in my bed.
Scooping him up with my other hand I carried him to the bathroom and stood him front of the toilet. It all happened so quickly that John didn’t get a chance to say anything until he found himself looking into the bowl of the toilet. I eased my grip on his dick after making sure it pointed in the right direction.
“You can let go now, buddy,” I told him, when only a few drops emerged.
“Sorry, Teddy,” he told me quietly, close to crying.
“Hush, buddy. It’s okay. It was only an accident,” I consoled him, still hanging on to his dink. I could vividly imagine if I let it go and he’d start peeing the same instant. An image of a firehose swinging around spraying water all over popped into my mind. I chuckled at that.
“Are you laughing at me?” John wanted to know.
“Oh no. It was just something I thought of. Don’t worry buddy. ‘Sides, what’s a little pee between friends, right?”
He didn’t respond but did calm himself enough to let the remaining pee out of his bladder. I shook his dink for him after he was done. I had to pee myself, but suddenly found myself a little shy to pee in front of John.
“Hey buddy, why don’t you go put on your clothes?”
He left me in the bathroom and I could finally get some relief of my own. I gargled my mouth with a bit of Andy’s kiddy toothpaste and some water to get the really sour taste out of my mouth. Like I told John, I wasn’t upset with him, but I didn’t wake him by sucking him off anymore after that. At least not for quite a few months until I more or less forgot about what had happened that morning.
John had dressed himself when I joined him in the bedroom and just sat on the edge of my bed. Looking at his feet like he had never noticed he had feet before just that moment. I slipped on a pair of underwear and sat down next to him.
I put my arm around him, hugging him. He threw his arms around me and held me really tight.
As I stroked his back, he began to cry. Blubbering as he cried. Repeatedly telling me how sorry he was. He begged me not to tell his parents that he had peed in my mouth. The absurdity of that would have been mightily funny, had John not been so scared. He told me that I could punish him however I wanted, just as long as I’d never tell on him. I guess I had a bit of a mean streak in me as I asked him, what he thought would be a suitable punishment for his ‘crime’.
“I dunno. Probably a spanking?”
“Okay,” I said and put him in the classic over the knees position. I pulled down his pants and underwear and readied myself to lay down the law.
I struck his backside exactly one time. It was a smack that sounded a hell of a lot worse than it really was. Sure, he could feel it, but in all reality it was just a tap. I put him on his feet between my knees, facing me and pulled his clothes back up, making sure to tuck his t-shirt into his pants.
He looked at me, mouth and eyes wide open. As if he didn’t know whether to laugh or continue crying. Eventually, he closed his mouth and actually smiled at me.
“That wasn’t a spanking,” he informed me.
I put my hands on his cheeks, the ones on his face not his butt, and said, “What you did, didn’t warrant a spanking in the first place. I don’t punish people for having accidents or making mistakes. Not Andy, not the guys under my command and certainly not you, buddy.
Now, go wash your face and stop worrying about the bit of pee that got into my mouth. It wasn’t lethal acid you spurted in there, you know?”
I could finally see the real John standing in front of me again. He nodded at me then ran to the bathroom. I put on a t-shirt and went to the kitchen to prepare something for breakfast.
John helped me set the table and ferry stuff from the fridge to the table. I asked him what he wanted to do that day. It was Sunday, the last full day he’d spend at my house that time around. He was returning to his home after school the following day.
“Can we go to the zoo?” He asked me after he swallowed the cereal he had in his mouth.
How I wished Andy would do that as well. He’d talk with his mouth full, constantly having to be reminded of not doing that.
“The zoo? You mean the one in Copenhagen?” I asked.
“Yeah. I haven’t been there since you took me and Andy last year.”
“Tell you what, why don’t we go there on Saturday, then Andy can come too?”
John sighed, but said okay. I knew he loved the attention he was getting from me, but I really thought he loved Andy. Sometimes boys are bloody hard to understand. One second I think I know everything about them and the next second they do or say something that leaves me puzzled. I knew John didn’t get to spend much time with Lyle, his father. After the small incident that had happened in kindergarten, Lyle thought of his son as a pervert.
But, even if John had been a pervert, which he most certainly wasn’t, it didn’t justify that Lyle didn’t do stuff with him. I knew Cheryl did what she could to make up for it, but children, and boys in particular need an adult male to look up to in their life. I guess I was the one John looked up to. He probably could have found someone worse than me, but surely he could have done so much better too. Maybe someone who didn’t want to fuck the crap out of his petite body.
“Let’s clear the table and then we can go to the park,” I suggested.
Which we did. I brought a soccer ball and a tennis ball we could throw to each other. I made sure that John had to run far more than myself. My stamina couldn’t keep up with that of a seven year-old boy. We played for a few hours before we made our way back to my house. After lunch, we sat and small-talked on the swings in my backyard.
“Buddy, how’s your butt?” I said, suddenly remembering the rash I had noticed the night before. I hadn’t really checked it out that morning and I didn’t want John suffering more than he absolutely had to.
“It feels fine. You wanna see it?”
“I think I better have a look.”
He got up from the swing and pulled down his pants and bent over spreading his butt cheeks, “Is it okay?” He asked.
‘Now, there’s a prime piece of ass if I’ve ever seen one,’ I thought, but said, “Well, I can’t really tell from over there.”
He shuffled backwards, closer to me. His rash was looking far better, but still not fully healed of course.
“It’s almost okay, but I think we should put some more of the ointment on it.”
“Okay,” he said and pulled his pants back up and went with me into the bathroom.
I sat on the toilet and had him present his bared butt to me again, while I massaged some Preparation H into his perineum and over his butt hole. That stuff had some mild anesthetics in it, and I’d used it on Andy with great results even if it really wasn’t meant to be used on kids. It worked on John as well, he liked the massage he was receiving right up to the point where he tried to make my finger enter his little hole.
I didn’t push it in, much to his dissatisfaction.
“Teddy, push your finger in. Please.”
“Not with this stuff on it,” I told him.
“Then with the other stuff. Just put it in me.”
My mouth spoke before I could stop it, “Well, for a boy who likes things going up his bum so much, I wonder why you won’t let me stick my dick in there.”
I felt really bad after saying that. John made me feel even worse by what he said next.
“I was tired last night. And you said no when I wanted you to put it in. I was too little. You said that. But if you want to stick it in now, then do it.”
I could tell he didn’t really want me to fuck him, not right then. Yes, he said I could fuck him, if I wanted to. But I needed him to want me to fuck him. I wanted him to enjoy being fucked, not simply letting me do it because it would please me. I had to work myself out of that mess. Build up his trust in me again. Not just so he’d let me fuck him and never tell anyone that I did. No, it was more so I could still be a father figure to him, now that his own wimp of a father wouldn’t stand up to the task.
I turned John around. I needed to talk to his face, not his butt for this.
“John,” I said and let out a small sigh, “I know I told you I thought you were too small for my dick. I was afraid I might hurt you terribly if I did. But when I saw you running around yesterday, laughing and having a really good time with that butt plug stuck inside your bum, I thought I made a bad call. I do think I can fuck you with my dick in your butt now, without hurting you. You might even start to like it after a few times.”
I stopped talking, letting John have the time to process what I had said. I hoped for him to be able to work it out properly. But, hell, he was only seven. Closer to eight than seven now, but still just seven years old. Maybe it would be too much for him to comprehend. Maybe it would be better if I just showed Andy how to fuck John. Then, maybe a few years later, John would allow me to fuck him. I could wait for that. I really could.
“Then do it!” He told me.
I had to think for a couple of seconds, did he want me to fuck him or wait a few years? What the heck was it I had told him?
“Teddy, just fuck me. I want you to.” John said very slowly to me, then turned around and spread his butt cheeks.
“Oh John. Thank you, buddy. But I can’t just stick it in you right here and now. Let’s get you good and ready for it first, okay?”
He let go of his butt cheeks and turned back to face me, “Okay, but do it fast before you change your mind again.”
I chuckled and he smiled.
Finally fucking John.
As I had done Friday, I first gave John some serious high volume enemas. He didn’t like those at all. But he went through with them as he explained to me I had to know what was best.
“It hurts inside my tummy,” he let me know as he cramped up yet another time, due to the one liter salty water solution slowly working its way into his bowels via his anus.
“I know buddy. Trust me, I know how you feel,” I said as I did my best to massage his lower stomach, helping the water move deeper into his body while hopefully lessening the boy’s struggle. The water mercilessly flowed into his body, but eventually stopped. I slid the nozzle gently out of his anus, which I could see he had troubles controlling.
“Let’s get the water out of you and then take a little breather, before the next one, what do you think, John?”
“Yes, please. I got to go!”
I could hear the urgency in his voice and had him on the toilet just in the neck of time. As the flow stopped, I flushed the toilet, with him still sitting on it. I had him stay there for fifteen minutes, then we went back out in the yard. He went out naked, me still in just my underwear and t-shirt. I lit up a cigarette and John immediately relocated to a chair much further away from me. He wrinkled his nose at me and made faces. I stuck my tongue out at him while blowing smoke out my nostrils.
“That’s really disgusting,” he told me.
“Yes it is. So don’t you ever think about trying it,” I warned him.
“It makes your clothes stink. Even your hair.”
“Yes. But at least I don’t smoke inside the house.”
I didn’t. My mother did at my parents’ house back when I was a kid. Even in the car, which had made me carsick on more than just one occasion. But, it was another time back then, in the 80s.
“Why don’t you just stop?”
“It isn’t that easy, buddy.”
“Sure it is, just don’t light the next one.”
I chuckled a little at the childish logic. But, then again. He was right. I could at least give it a try. After all, how many people have you heard of dying because they stopped smoking? It would be tough, but surely it couldn’t be impossible. However, I did finish that cigarette before we went back to the bathroom. I had to open the window as we entered, it sure wasn’t a delightful scent that greeted us.
“Yuck,” John stated, “It stinks in here.”
“Yeah, it does. Who would have thought something coming out of such a cute kid could smell so bad?” I teased him.
“That’s why we’re doing this right?” He asked, “So it doesn’t get on your dick?”
“That, and so it doesn’t end up on my bed either.”
He looked disgusted by that. I didn’t tell him that I had fucked young teens who didn’t know how to clean their ass and had that happen more than once. Thank god I had covered the mattress with a towel, but it had been a showstopper for one poor 16 year-old boy. He had run to the bathroom locking himself inside refusing to come out until I promised to take him back to where I had picked him up.
I had John back in position with his bum high in the air as I let another full liter of water into the boy. He took it more easily this time, able to hold it inside for ten minutes before he expelled it into the toilet. I had a look in the bowl, to see if he needed another one. He did. After the third go, it looked clear enough for me. I wouldn’t have wanted to drink the water coming out of him, but on the other hand there weren’t any noticeable traces of waste in it.
We took a shower together where I washed him thoroughly, then spent a lot of time just rinsing his butt and crotch with clean water. I had used soap on his private bits, hoping to get all the Preparation H off his skin. The ointment would be bad to get into your mouth, it clearly said so on the tube and package. I’d hate having to go to the emergency room and explain how I got it in my mouth. Just imagine if I had told the truth.
‘Oh, I licked a seven year-old boy in the ass and forgot I had covered it in ointment just before doing so.’
And I did plan on not just licking John’s ass, but give him the full experience of being made love to. We had the entire afternoon, a full four hours. We could even stretch it a bit if I ordered pizza instead of cooking myself. I wanted to lick every part of that boy’s body, more than once if he would let me. First, John made me brush my teeth though. I used the strawberry flavored stuff bought for Andy, which both boys liked, then I sent John into my bedroom.
My erection led the way as I went to the living room to get the small bullet vibrator, then had to go back to the bathroom to get a towel. You never know when and if you need one and it’s just better to have one handy. At least that’s what my experience says. John was waiting for me, face down in the middle of my bed. I don’t know if he expected me to just climb on top of him and fuck him like that.
I knew the sex games played by my son and John were very short and probably bang on. If you wonder just how I knew that; well it was easy to tell from the amount of time that passed from when the door to Andy’s room was shut and until it was reopened. Not a whole lot of stuff can happen in 15 to 20 minutes. Besides, were they anything like me, when I screwed around as a kid, they didn’t have the patience for foreplay.
I had wanted to screw a young kid for quite a long time, almost ever since I was one myself. To enhance the experience, now that I was so close to fulfilling my dream, I didn’t mind prolonging the wait by an hour. There’s an expression in Danish that goes somewhere like this: “The sweetest joy is the joy of anticipation.” Sometimes the actual event is nothing at all like you imagined it would be. Often, it’s much more mundane, or even an anticlimax.
Besides, I had brushed my teeth in the middle of the day, which is something I normally never did. Now that my mouth had been prepared for kissing, it only felt right to actually use it for that.
I joined the boy in my bed by laying down next to him. He turned his head and looked at me. I didn’t give him time to talk but quickly moved in and stole a small kiss. Kissing him again, locking my lips on his, I placed my hand on his butt and rubbed it slowly.
He broke our kiss and asked, “I thought you wanted to stick your dick in my bum?”
“I do,” I said and pecked his lips with a couple of light kisses, “But there’s no need to rush. I promise that before dinner, you will have gotten fucked in the ass by my cock.”
I don’t know why, but talking dirty to John really turned me on. I guess being able to corrupt this sweet young boy did that to me. Using bad language just intensified the extremely tabooed act of deflowering a seven year-old, be it a boy or girl. I trusted him not to use those words with anyone but myself and Andy.
“I hope you won’t die from having to wait just a little while longer for that to happen?” I asked him.
“It’s okay. Will it hurt bad?”
I could have lied and said it would be the most wonderful experience in his entire life. But, I couldn’t abuse his trust in me. It was bad enough that I was going to abuse his little body, I didn’t have to mess with his head too. So I explained that I’d do anything I could to make it as painless as possible for him, but that it might hurt a little.
“Like a shot?”
What he meant was getting an injection.
“Well, a bit like that, but I meant more like if you’re having problems pooping. It’s pretty much the same feeling.”
“So, like when you put the butt plugs in my bum.” This wasn’t a question, it was a statement. John wasn’t stupid.
“Yeah, only my dick won’t get stuck in your bum.”
It was no time for silly jokes though. John was taking all of this very seriously.
John was worried. He had to be, even if he wanted to be fucked. When I asked him if he wanted to go through with it, he said yes. He just didn’t want to experience pain. He was pretty much like I had been so long ago with Casey. But, Casey’s dick had been way smaller than the adult version of my dick. However, with the right amount of patience and preparation, it shouldn’t feel much worse than what I had experienced.
And I was patient. As I was in charge, John had to be too. To keep him distracted, I started kissing him again. His mouth open, I slowly teased his tongue with mine. When he began actively kissing me back, I played with one of his small nipples. It firmed up, enjoying the unexpected attention it received. I hadn’t told the boys of the erogenous zones on their bodies as I had planned on doing when I showed them how they could reach an orgasm.
That day, when I was to fuck John for the first time, I stimulated different parts of his body to further arouse him. I gave him goosebumps as I let the tip of a single finger follow his hairline around his neck. I did it very gently, at first he giggled as it tickled him. He managed to relax when told to, nearly to the point where I thought he was sleeping.
“’s nice,” he whispered.
“I know. How’s this?”
I moved my finger to his ear, starting at the lobe, where he one day would wear a small golden earring, but that wasn’t for another eight years. He erupted in a renewed fit of giggles when my finger slipped and dipped into his ear. The giggles stopped as I grabbed hold of his ear lobe between thumb and index finger and rubbed it lightly. John was facing me laying on his side, but shifted to lay on his tummy when I asked him to. He was really getting into my petting him.
“Turn your face away from me and close your eyes.”
If there had ever been a time where I envied octopuses for having so many arms this would have been it. I had to get by only touching John in one place at a time. I was on my side, propping up my head with one arm while the other explored his warm, nude and seemingly hairless body. His body actually wasn’t hairless, but covered in downy, short and very thin, almost see-through hairs. They were only really noticeable, when he was standing in sunlight and you happened to look at him from just the right angle.
Or, when he was allowing you to lazily run a fingertip over his scapula, into his armpit, across first one side of his arm then back up the other side. I considered it a great honor to be allowed this extreme level of intimacy with him. I followed his spine down his back, heading towards his bottom. I circled every single bump in his spine, prolonging the time it took for my finger to travel the short distance tenfold, if not more.
As I reached his tailbone, I didn’t immediately enter the valley made by his buttocks. My finger already knew what awaited there. Although his little opening for me, was like an oasis for a camel desperate for water after a long travel through the desert; I willed myself to stay clear of it, at least for the time being. I took the scenic route, following the curvature of his nearest buttock. As I reached where his buttock met with his thigh, I had to shift position before venturing further down towards his feet.
I sat up Indian-style and found myself able to move on. The outside of his thigh felt like satin to my fingertip; the back of his knee was more like silk, but also a lot more ticklish to John. He lost it completely when I, on purpose I admit, let my fingernail slide along the sole of his foot. I had to hold onto his lower leg as he was kicking up a storm, trying to evade the tickling.
“Why did you hafta do that?” He asked me when I stopped tickling his foot.
“I wanted to see if you had fallen asleep.”
“You coulda just asked me. I really liked what you did.”
“Good. Cuz I’m not done yet.”
‘I really need to teach the boys some other words than that dreaded cool. Whatever happened to nice, or super?’
“Turn over,” I told him.
I was hoping, halfway expecting, John sporting an erection begging for attention.
“Duh, you tickled me!” He told me when I asked him if he hadn’t enjoyed what I did to him, “my dick was stiff until then.”
“Oh well. It’ll probably get hard again before I’m done.”
I started from the top again, but didn’t get any response from touching his forehead. I hadn’t expected one, either, but touched it all the same. I ever so gently touched his left eyelid, but when he opened his eyes I had to move my finger quickly. I didn’t want to accidently damage his eye. When he closed his eyes again, his nose was my next target. He wrinkled it as I tickled the tip of his nose. I bypassed his nostrils, I wasn’t really wanting to dig for gold, you know?
His lips were still as smooth as I remembered from kissing them, but he tried to take a bite out of my finger.
“Hey, lay still, ungrateful boy child,” I playfully scolded him.
“What’s ungrateful mean?”
‘Fuck me silly, it’s no time for language lessons now,’ I thought but did tell him what it meant using a simpler word. Actually, I just told him it meant bad. Thankfully, he didn’t take it literally.
Eventually I ended up at his navel, or belly button even if his wasn’t really a button. It didn’t protrude from his belly, but I think I have already told you about it before. His dick had awakened from its slumber by the time I reached his nipples, but again I avoided what I had already seen, touched and tasted.
“Aw!” John said as my fingertip didn’t touch what he expected it would.
Hell, he had shown more patience than I had thought, so it was about time to pick it up a little. He gasped as I sucked his dink into my mouth. The long cleansing of it hadn’t been able to completely remove the taste of soap, but fortunately for me, the annoying taste went away rather quickly. I would have preferred it to be the genuine taste of little boy, pee included, to the taste of soap. But, better safe than sorry.
I tickled his dickhead with the tip of my tongue, before I quickly transferred some spit to my index finger.
“Spread your legs,” I told John.
He spread them further than necessary, but it did give me access to his butthole. I slickened it a little with my spit, and with another glob of spit on the tip of my finger I slowly pierced it through his anus, while sucking his dick back into my mouth. I had to wet my finger one more time but after that I got it far enough into the boy to reach his prostate. With the simultaneously attacks on both dick and prostate it didn’t take long for him to orgasm.
The time I had spent caressing his body probably had some influence on it as well. I sat back up, taking in the sight of the kid splayed out in front of me. He had his eyes closed, nostrils flaring as air went in and out of his lungs. I’m sure his little heart was pumping full steam to transport not only oxygen but also oxytocin through his body. While I had sat up, I had removed my finger from his little bum. I slowly jacked his dick slicked by my spit, and still very erect.
I didn’t want him to lose interest, now that he had orgasmed. As I had told him earlier that day, he was going to be fucked, and damned if I wasn’t going to do that. I gave him time to come down from his high, which quite frankly didn’t take all that long. Had I wanted to, I could have probably jacked him to another orgasm, but my own dick was screaming for a bit of attention. As I continued jacking John’s little dick, I began jacking myself off as well with my other hand.
It was only about a minute, then John reached over, moved my hand from my dick and carried on wanking me. It was nice, not cool, but I’d rather he sucked me off instead. He engulfed the head of my dick when I asked him politely to do so. I came into his mouth after a few minutes of his combined sucking and jacking, leaving me to wonder how quickly I would have cum if I had fucked him without easing a little of the built-up pressure in my nuts.
He swallowed the sticky stuff, showing me he had done so by opening his mouth afterwards. I’m not sure why he thought it necessary to do so, but the thought of my semen ending up in the stomach of seven year-old boy almost made me ready to go again. My dick certainly didn’t deflate as quickly as it normally would after an orgasm. However, I decided it was time to take a very short break to get some fluid into both John and me.
We drank a glass of lemonade and afterwards went back to bed. I had John lay on his tummy, legs slightly spread, so I could easily lick his butt. I used my thumbs to spread his butt cheeks open and went to work opening his sphincter. I took my time enjoying lapping at his hole, successfully blocking out any thoughts of what would take place just a short time after. Right there and then, I lived for the moment, to make John feel good. He took my licking of his ass in stride, not uttering a single sound.
If I hadn’t known how much he liked someone doing things to his anus, I could easily have mistaken his silence as a sign of boredom. Even if I couldn’t see it, I just knew his little dick was as hard as it could be. Around five minutes of licking later, I lubed up the vibrator and slowly pushed it into the little boy butt in front of me. I had turned it on just before it made contact with the boy’s skin, and it speared through his anus easily. While I moved the vibrator in and out of the boy, I gave his buttocks a tongue bath.
I replaced the vibrator with my index finger. It was about equal in width but I could insert it about an inch further into John’s ass. He pushed back to meet my finger as it grazed his prostate, the first movement made by him that I noticed since I had him lay on the bed. I probed the prostate, gently in the beginning but gradually built up both speed and the intensity of my probing finger. Just as another kiddy orgasm was about to take place, I eased my finger out of his hole.
Only seconds later I breached through the now sufficiently relaxed anus with two of my fingers. They entered in a slightly different angle, no longer probing into his happy spot. As John tried to adjust his position by pushing up his butt, I immediately changed the angle of my finger movement to avoid hitting his prostate. If John was going to experience an anal orgasm, he would get it from my dick massaging his happy spot, not my fingers.
I honestly didn’t expect him to get off by me fucking his little ass, but I didn’t rule it out either. He really was so much into ass-play with him on the receiving end of business. Well, he still is, but even at seven, he knew his ass wasn’t just for defecating.
As he was still trying to make my fingers meet his prostate, I had to put my hand on his lower back, right where back turned into butt. He finally got the picture as I pushed down on him, putting a bit more weight on him than I intended. If translated from body language into English, it could have meant something like Stop thrashing around, you little bitch! Which wasn’t what I meant, not at all. At least he got the picture and settled right down.
I could then concentrate on dilating his sphincter even further than I had before. I used every trick I had picked up, slowly rotating my fingers and making scissor movements. The latter actually takes more effort than you might expect. Slowly I could feel his opening widen in response to the action of my fingers. I went all-in by introducing a third finger to his asshole. He’d either scream bloody murder or accept the added discomfort caused by it. If he didn’t accept, I wouldn’t have fucked him.
At least that is what I told myself. I’m not sure I could have really stopped, if it had come to that. As luck would have it, I never had to find out. John hissed a little as my ring finger joined my index and middle finger inside the now very tight band made up by his sphincter. It felt as unyielding as steel, in particular right then as the boy was firming up every muscle in and around his bum. I could feel his body trying to get rid of my fingers. Tried to expel them like they had been a big turd.
This turd, or rather my fingers, weren’t leaving without a fight, however.
“Buddy, try to relax your butt.”
“I know it hurts, my friend. But you’re making it much worse by tensing up like that.”
And I really did know that it hurt, I also knew that relaxing while experiencing pain is extremely difficult. John wasn’t crying, neither did he try to move about on the bed. Not that he had been able to, I was still pushing his midsection down into the mattress. All of his energy was instead spent on trying to force his butthole shut.
‘I should probably have waited,” I thought. But, if I pulled my fingers out just then, I might never have gotten another shot at fucking him. He’d just remember the pain he had experienced. I had no option but to wait it out. But I could still try to make it easier for John.
“John, promise me you won’t move if I let go of your back.”
“I won’t. But, please, stop hurting my butt.”
“I can’t. Only you can do that.”
Well, it was kind of true. At least if he wanted to get fucked by my dick.
“How? It hurts really bad.”
“You need to try to relax, stop squeezing your butthole tight like you are now. My fingers aren’t going anywhere anyway.”
“Try to focus on what my other fingers are doing, what they feel like while they touch your body.”
I was moving them slowly up and down his back now, much like I had done previously, during the foreplay. Only this time, I pushed a bit harder at his skin, so he could feel it through the pain signals his butthole was broadcasting.
“I can feel them,” John said.
“Ignore the pain, try to only feel my fingers. What are they doing now?”
“Are you like drawing on my back? Oh, no it feels like you’re writing letters.”
Indeed I was. I started over, having John spell out each letter as it formed on his skin. I kept it simple, he was attending school of course, but it was still only first grade.
“I… what’s that? I don’t know that letter.”
“It’s not a letter. It’s something else.”
I drew it again.
“Do it again. I can’t, oh wait. Ugh, it still hurts. Ooh, now I know, it’s a heart!”
“That’s right, the next is a word,” I said and began writing.
“Y… O… U… You! I, heart, you. Ah, I love you!” he exclaimed triumphantly.
“Aw, John, I love you too,” I told him.
“Duh, it’s what you wrote on my back.”
“I know, but it’s still true, I do love you.”
At least he didn’t make some halfwit joke about me just wanting a piece of his ass. Which I did of course. But I was growing ever closer to him, and no it wasn’t because I had three of my fingers inside his body. Not solely because of that anyway. He had just wormed himself into my heart, he was my son’s best friend, maybe his only true friend really, but he was also my best friend. I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather spend my time with, apart from Andy of course, but he was my son.
‘John is more important than any of my adult friends!’ I made that realization right then. In my bed with my fingers imbedded in his, by then, quivering butthole and caressing his body with my other hand.
“I really like you too, Teddy,” John admitted.
He didn’t use the word love, but I knew it was what he meant. I had to stop myself from thinking all those distracting thoughts as I realized my dick had shriveled up.
‘God damn it to hell,’ was my next thought, which didn’t really help. ‘No, don’t panic, there’s still time, you can do this!’
John’s sphincter was about ready to give up all hope of winning the battle against my fingers. The boy had finally taken control over it, or maybe he actually lost control over it. The distractions I had generated by writing on his back, had probably sped up the process. I bent over his back and kissed him on his cheek.
“You’re almost ready to get fucked in the ass,” I whispered while nuzzling my lips at his earlobe.
“Yeah, just a few more minutes, then you’re good to go.”
I just prayed I’d be too. I sat back up and tried to pump some action into my dick. It took a little time, unfortunately I was not a little boy anymore. My dick didn’t perk up at a slight breeze, like it used to when I was going through puberty. When I squeezed a big dollop of lubrication onto my dick head, it did rear up.
‘No need for small blue pills yet, baby,’ I triumphed as I smeared the lube all over my glans.
John’s ass was pretty well slicked up already, still I rotated my hand so the palm faced up. My three fingers formed a funnel leading directly into the boy. I didn’t need this fuck to have a lot of friction in order to have a really nice time. Actually, I quite hoped it would take ages for me to cum. I sent a dollop of lube into the funnel and used my pinky to push it into the boy. I shuffled up closer to John, my knees on the outside of his thighs.
When I deemed everything was good to go, I moved my fingers out of his butt, and guided my dick head into his anus using the fingers of my other hand. It actually wasn’t the tightest ass I had ever entered, I had prepared it a bit too well for that. I think Thomas is still the tightest kid I’ve ever fucked, but I didn’t really do much to loosen him up back then either. However, John was certainly the youngest by far that I had fucked.
Even if he was young, there was still enough room inside of him for my dick to fully sink in. I fucked my dick into him, was fully seated very quickly. It happened in less than ten thrusts in and out of the kid.
“You did it John!” I said once I couldn’t get my dick any further into him, “You got all of my dick inside your little ass.”
Well, at least he didn’t say cool, but did he mean good, because there wasn’t any more waiting to get inside of him, or good, he’s finally getting fucked? I stopped the train of thoughts, focused on my dick. How it felt as it moved inside, gliding through the tight anus, entering the blasting heat inside a little boy. No, not just a little boy, but John. That it was him I fucked, really made it so much better. It could’ve only been better if I had fucked one other little boy. Yeah, you’re right, I mean Andy of course.
‘Fat chance of that ever happening,’ I thought, ‘then again, I never thought I’d be fucking John either. Note to self, new motto is: Never say never.’
John was a very loud boy in bed, he sure wasn’t shy about expressing his feelings by moans of varying pitch. I didn’t fuck him hard, he wasn’t just a boy to use, nor abuse. I wanted him to enjoy his first proper fucking, of course deep down hoping he’d return for more. But, even if he was to decide this would be the only time, I wanted him to be able to look back on it as a positive experience. The high pitched moans coming from his ever so slightly opened mouth, really edged me on though.
He’d moan as my dick touched his prostate on the in-stroke. When I pushed in quickly, his moan turned into a gasp. I spent a little time alternating my in-strokes, one stroke I’d push in very quickly and the next very slowly. I tried to test John, seeing if he only moaned because he thought it was what he was supposed to do. Wondered if he had seen porn. But his moans were spontaneous, genuine. They were what really drove me to orgasm.
I could feel it closing in, quickly, but still with ample time to slow down. I could have prolonged the first fuck of John by several minutes, maybe even longer. But I knew I had to finish before his anus would object to the strange things it was experiencing. Before it would clamp down, turning John’s pleasure into torture. I chose not to slow down, to just let the inevitable happen.
I had to stop pumping as my balls jumped into action. I nearly had a sensory overload as my sperm shot out into John’s rectum. I don’t know how much I pumped into him, probably not a whole lot, as I had orgasmed not so long before. My dick jumped inside of the little boy like it wasn’t ever going to stop. All good things must come to an end however and eventually this did too. I waited a moment and pulled my dick out of John. I let myself fell to the bed next to him and hugged him close.
We lay in silence for a long while, neither of us moving. The only sound I could hear came from my breathing. I was looking at the back of John’s head until he a few minutes later finally turned his head to face me. At first his face was void of expressions. He just lay there, looking at me, his eyes blinking every now and then. Then I saw it, it was like a sunrise over a misty field. The heat from the sun slowly burning away the mist. I first saw it in his eyes, then his mouth followed suit.
John smiled at me, not his usual half-shy signature smile, but almost a grin. His two bigger front teeth showed as his lips curled up. I didn’t have to ask if he had enjoyed himself. The smile on his face told me everything I needed to know.
John wants more!
Even if we had finished our bed activities with enough time for me to cook us dinner, I ended up ordering pizzas. I just didn’t feel like doing anything. I could have happily spent the rest of my life in bed, watching John smile. We lay on that bed, relaxing, basking in the memories of what had just happened. John told me that I had in fact hurt him, but it had been worth the pain. He had wanted me to go on for longer, but seemed to understand why, when I explained it to him.
“Next time you gotta do it longer,” he told me.
“The more we do it, the less time we need to prepare your butt for it,” I explained, “it’ll give us more time to fuck.”
He reached back to feel his bum, gingerly sticking a finger in between his cheeks.
“I’m all wet back there,” he informed me as he studied the residue on his finger.
“That’s easily taken care of,” I said and used a part of the towel he was laying on to wipe his butt.
There was no blood just like I had expected and wanted. Hence the long time I spent getting him ready, to avoid small fissures in his anus. We went to the bathroom where I used some wet wipes to further clean him and myself. After a generous coating of Preparation H both in and around his sphincter, which by then had returned to its usual tight self, I ordered the pizzas.
I put on a pair of sweatpants as I answered the door and paid the pizza delivery guy. He was in his late 50s or early 60s, from some Middle Eastern country. All the stories I have read on the Internet, usually had some good looking teen deliver pizzas, no such luck for me. Besides, I was hungry for something else than sex right then. We ate while watching TV, John still naked and sitting on a towel, me still only wearing the sweatpants.
We ended up nodding off to the TV, I was laying on my back on the couch with John using my body as a giant throw pillow. I was awoken by the TV when the test signal came on, signaling the end of the broadcasting for that day. Sunday had been replaced by Monday, albeit only by a few minutes. I had to hold up John as he stood in front of the toilet relieving himself. I don’t think he really woke up but just peed when I asked him to let it go.
I skipped the tooth brushing and the evening bath as it was much too late for that, just tucked the boy in on one side of my bed. I got in bed laying on the other side, with as much distance to John as physically possible. I hoped to get a good night’s sleep without being disturbed by the little boy’s movements. That clearly wasn’t part of his plans, as only moments later he snuggled up close to me.
I nearly had to crawl out of my bed the next morning. My back was aching, I had a head ache from hell and really felt like just going back to sleep. It being Monday, I had to get John ready for school and get my own sorry ass to work as well. I don’t know how I managed, but I did get through the day only to go to bed at 8PM. Cheryl had called me just before dinner and again told me how thankful she was.
“John won’t stop talking about how much fun he had,” she told me.
I shrugged it off, just telling her if she ever needed me to watch him again, that I’d do it. Even if it was just for a few hours during the day. Unfortunately that just got her back to talking about how to ever be able to pay me for what I had done.
“Don’t ever talk about paying me again, I enjoy spending time with John. That’s more than enough payment for me.”
‘That, and being able to pork her son whenever I feel like it,’ my inner voice said. Fortunately I was the only one who could hear it.
Finally she let me have peace, I don’t mind women, but most I knew, wouldn’t ever stop talking. Like my mom who can’t stand sitting in silence for even a few minutes at a time. I love my mom, but I truly appreciate my dad’s ability to be able to sit in a room and just be there. Not having to constantly let his presence known to everyone by talking.
The following Wednesday, John was out on his bike in the street as I entered it in my car. When I made the turn into my driveway and entered the garage, John rode into the driveway.
“Hi Teddy,” he bubbled at me.
“Oh, hi there buddy, what’re you up to?”
I wondered where Andy was. Normally the two of them would spend all their time together.
“Nuffin’, just waiting for dinner,” came the reply.
It was only 4:30PM, I was still forced to only work from 9AM to 3PM, unless an emergency of some kind unfolded. It was okay, really. It gave me a bit more time to work on the less appealing stuff that came with the job of being a squad leader. Like keeping up with the education level of every member of the squad took some hours every month. I had to check the list of courses that took place and compare it to each guy in the squad.
If one or more needed a course that was offered I had to call them and try to persuade them to sign up for it. That really should have been easy, but it was actually quite hard. I didn’t have any means of penalizing them, if they refused to go. I could request for someone being transferred away from my squad, but that was only done in severe cases. And I’d only end up one guy short(er) in my squad.
“When do you usually have dinner?” I asked John.
Short, to the point answer. That was kind of late, but I suppose his dad’s business made it necessary.
“What’re you going to do for two whole long hours?”
“Dunno,” he said, “I-was-hoping-maybe-you’d-stick-it-in-my-bum-again,” he added quietly and so fast I almost didn’t understand him.
“Only if you wanna,” he continued, slower.
“We’ll have to be right quick then.”
I ushered him into my house and he went straight into the bathroom. He was trying to detach the sprayer from the hose as I got there after locking the front door.
“Take your shorts off,” I told him, quickly taking over for the job of preparing the hose.
He kicked off his sneakers without untying the laces, then skimmed his shorts and underoos down and off his legs. I was adjusting the temperature of the water as he sat on the edge of the tub, waiting for me to fill his bum with water. He had pulled his t-shirt up so it bunched up in his armpits. I helped him pull his head out of the neck opening and let the t-shirt rest behind his neck. That way it couldn’t accidently slip down and maybe get water on it.
I filled his little butt with water five times, quickly. It took about 10 seconds filling him to the brim, about the same for him to expel it into the toilet. All in all, the flushing out took less than a couple of minutes. It had to make do, if a little shit got onto my dick or escaped from his ass, then so be it. I got an extra towel just in case and we moved into the bedroom.
I had John on his hands and knees on my bed, while I sat behind him. Plenty of lube on the fingers of both my hands I jacked him off while poking at his asshole. I couldn’t hurry through this step, but couldn’t spend as much time loosening his hole as I had just a couple of days earlier.
“Ready for another finger?” I asked when my finger moved a little more freely in and out of his tight opening.
I slowed right down as I pushed two fingers into him. The hole was quite a bit tighter than I expected but he didn’t tell me to stop.
“Buddy, you’ll tell me to stop if it hurts too much, right?”
“Yeah, but it feels okay.”
He hissed a bit as the second joint of my fingers entered him. I slowed down further, not wanting to hurt him. I wasn’t sure if he really would tell me to stop.
“Don’t stop now. Stick them in,” he told me.
I didn’t, I wasn’t answering to him. I waited until I could tell his hole had adjusted somewhat to my fingers before speeding up the movement. I drilled his anus with the two fingers for five minutes. Almost exactly, as I kept checking the time on my clock radio. His sphincter was getting looser with every passing moment.
“I’m going to put my dick in next, I think it’ll hurt less than putting three fingers in your ass, John.”
“Good. I didn’t like it when you did that.”
This time Mr. Happy was happy. I had no need to excite him further to coerce some stiffness into him. I used the excess lube on my fingers I had used to jack John off with to lube up my cock.
“Ready for the real thing?”
“All set, and go.”
‘Ready, set, go. Like on the count of three.’ I thought, ‘at least he’s having fun.’
“Open wide, here comes the rocket,” I said as I removed my fingers from his butthole and pointed my dick at it.
John started giggling at the phrase I had used, it was something I told Andy, when I had spoon fed him the yucky mashed up food he had as a baby. John quickly stopped as my dick began pushing into him. He moaned loudly as it kept inching further and further inside.
“Stop,” he gasped as about half of my dick had gotten into his little oven.
I froze instantly, “do you want me to take it out?” I asked.
“NO! Just wait, please. Hurts.”
I reached around his hip and took his dick in my hand. It was amazingly still stiff as I started stroking it. His bottom relaxed some around my dick, as I gave the boy something else to focus his mind on. I checked the time again, it was only 4:57PM. Still plenty of time.
As the digits changed to 5:01PM, John told me he was ready for me to continue. If he had waited much longer, I swear my dick would have started to melt inside of him. The heat of his anus and rectum was overwhelming. I pulled out an inch then fed that along with another one into his still tight butt. It resulted in a fresh moan from John. The way his back was arched, my dick head probably rammed straight into his prostate.
“Okay, I’m going to start fucking for real now.”
John didn’t use any words to confirm, but he wasn’t exactly quiet. His moaning was a repeat of his first fuck. I was able to fuck him as hard as I wanted, now that I held onto his narrow hips. I didn’t go ballistic, he was still just a little kid, a rookie to ass-fucking. But I did fuck him harder than the first time. Halfway through the fuck, he moaned continually for a pretty long time. His anus did what it could to bite off the part of my dick inside his butt.
I didn’t slow down, I just fucked him through his kiddy orgasm. It felt super great to me, almost hurt me when his asshole would squeeze tight for a split second before letting up again. I felt the nine or ten contractions of his sphincter as my dick slid in and out of it. John slipped from his hands down onto his elbows, resting his head on the mattress. I’m sure, had I not held him up by the hips, he would’ve collapsed completely.
This changed the angle of attack, making it harder for me to fuck him. I had to bend over him, resting my hands on the mattress on either side of his head. He was still locked into the prostrate position as my wrists touched his shoulders. He would’ve had to splay out his knees to evade my dick. Alas, he didn’t. He lay there, allowing me to pump his ass, voicing his approval with moans that were slowly getting ever coarser. His mouth undoubtedly got drier with each moan passing by it.
I was on the final leg of the fucking, I could feel my nuts moving closer to my body. They no longer slapped into John’s smaller-than-mine, but by no means baby sized nuts. As the moment got closer, I could feel John’s anus go through another series of contractions. Just as they let up, my body had finally had it. I pushed in deep, as my dick spat out the sperm my balls had produced over a two day long period.
I slumped down over the boy, forcing him to lay prone on the bed. My dick deeply embedded in him. Still busy pumping sperm into him. Sperm that would try in vain to find an egg to join up with. I hoped the little sperm cells wouldn’t be too disappointed finding themselves swimming around inside a seven year-old boy’s ass, instead of a vagina. I for one, was feeling a lot more satisfied after this fuck than any of the fucks I had with Michelle.
When I found enough strength, I pushed off of John, pulling my spent dick out of his ass with a small pop as it vacated his anus.
“Did you like it John?”
‘Wow indeed.’ I knew he had enjoyed it. Orgasming twice in nearly as many minutes. I’d say wow if that had happened to me as well.
“That was the best yet, Teddy.”
I pecked him on his mouth, stealing a little kiss from him, but he wasn’t interested in kissing. Not at the time. I took no offense, knowing he more than likely was fully spent. The little flame inside of him had been extinguished by my sperm. Somehow, I thought, it wouldn’t take long until it burned at full power again.
I let him rest for another five minutes before I filled his little ass with water and had him push it out into the toilet. It just wouldn’t do if he leaked my stuff out into his underoos. The smell of sperm would have been far too easy to tell for his parents. I sent him on his way home a quarter past six, amazed that he could sit on his bike, showing no signs of having been plowed by an adult-sized dick that afternoon.
The boy weeps.
I got to fuck John occasionally after that, mostly on the weekends when I had Andy, but he did show up at random times when I was home. He and Andy continued their sex games as well, even if it fills me with extreme pain when I think of how I found out. It hurts me having to write it, it’s like reliving the whole thing over again, but I have to do it. It’s the only way I know of how to deal with it.
It all started while I was out with the Guard, I was in the middle of teaching a group of 16 new recruits how to move between two positions while in a firefight. My cellphone was muted, but I felt it vibrating in my breast pocket. I continued teaching, letting the answering machine deal with the call. The phone vibrated again shortly afterwards. Whoever had been calling the first time, hadn’t left a message. They had just hung up and redialed my number immediately.
That was enough for me to stop talking and bring out my phone to see who was calling. The caller ID said ‘Andy’s School.’ I quickly dismissed the class, gave them a fifteen minute break, while I hit the button to accept the call. I wasn’t sure what it was all about, but it was the first call I had ever received from them. I only had the number to his school in my phone, so it was handy when I had to call them, when Andy was sick. To let them know he wouldn’t be coming to school.
“Hello?” I said into the phone.
“Hello, is this Mr. Larsen?” I heard a female voice ask.
“Yes, listen, this isn’t the best of times,” I started explaining but was cut off.
“Sorry, but I’m calling from the office of Andy’s school. We really need you to come here as soon as possible.”
“What? Why?” I was suddenly feeling apprehensive.
“First, Andy is okay, he isn’t seriously hurt, but he really needs you right now.”
“What has happened to him?”
“He got into a fight with some other kids, I’m not really sure why or how many were involved. Andy is clearly upset, of course, and doesn’t really want to say anything to us.”
“Who’s with him now?” I asked.
“He’s being watched by the school nurse. As I said, he isn’t badly hurt, save for some bruising, but he has asked for you to come.”
“I’m on my way, but it will take me some time to get there.”
“Please, don’t worry and don’t rush driving here. We’ll take good care of Andy until you arrive.”
I hung up and called the commanding officer for the school I was teaching at. I explained the situation as calmly as I could, which wasn’t easy at all. He asked me if I was able to return to the school complex with my students or if I’d rather have him send out someone to where we were. We were quite a distance from the buildings, out in the terrain. He agreed to send someone to relieve me. Next, I returned to my students. It was the third day of a week long course, so they knew me rather well by then.
That tends to happen, when you spend about 14 hours a day with someone. They knew something had happened, they could tell from my body language as well as see it in my facial expression I’m sure. I told them Andy had been in a fight at school. That I didn’t know how badly he was hurt, but had asked for me. Some of the students were parents themselves.
So they could easily relate to what I was going through, even telling off some of the younger, more buff guys to shut it when they asked if something like that was worth making such a fuss over.
I counted the seconds that passed by until I heard the sound of a motor vehicle approaching our location. It sounded like a diesel engine, so I figured it would be one of the Volkswagen minivans we used for troop transports. Instead it was a MAN 5 tons truck that appeared. It made sense, really, as the MAN was four-wheel drive and rated for driving on pretty much any kind of surface. The minivans were only supposed to be driven on paved and dirt roads.
The only problem was that I didn’t have a license to drive trucks. Plus, I had never driven one, only ever been a passenger, either back on the bed of the truck or inside the cabin. And there was only one guy in the truck. It was Kevin, the supply sergeant from my company.
“That’s no problem, the civilian traffic laws don’t apply while driving off-road,” he told me after I had explained my problem.
He told me just to drive it like an oversized car with quite a lot more gears in the manual gearbox. He would lead the group of students back to the complex. I climbed into the cabin, feeling a bit nervous of driving that beast, but the thought of getting to Andy as quickly as possible took over. I stepped on the accelerator, let go of the clutch and started driving back towards the parking lot where I had parked my car. I drove carefully in the beginning but as my confidence grew, so did the speed I was travelling at.
Fairly soon I was bumping across fields of newly sown grass or some other form of agricultural crap. I couldn’t care less of what I drove over. The farmers leased the land at a discounted price, with the understanding that vehicles could and most likely would disrupt a lot of the crop. When I got to the parking lot, I realized I hadn’t been told how to shut the damn engine off. There were no keys at the steering wheel, like in a car.
Finally I found the tiny key on the instrument panel. Pretty much hidden amongst a crap load of switches, only God knows what did. But the rumble of the engine died when I turned that key. I left the key in place, and jumped into my car. Then hurried towards the school where my boy was waiting for me. I drove quite a bit faster than the limits allowed I’m afraid to admit.
As I arrived at the school’s parking lot I noticed a police cruiser parked there. I didn’t think much of it at the time, I could remember from when I went to school myself, that the police would sometimes give a little speech to the pupils. Alas, they were there for me. No, they didn’t arrest me, even if that thought did cross my mind. However, one of the teachers had found something ‘disturbing’ on Andy’s cellphone.
I was greeted by a police officer, a female in her mid-thirties, who clearly wanted to be a man. I quickly labeled her a butch lesbian, even if I didn’t know her. But that’s what my first impression of her told me. (No, I don’t usually judge people so harshly from just spending a few minutes with them, but she was just so full of it.) She told me that there were a couple of short video clips on a phone that presumably belonged to Andy. There were also a lot of picture files on it.
‘Shit, Andy!’ I knew he had figured out how to use the phone as a camera, constantly snapping pictures of everything. She showed me part of the video clip, just to have me identify Andy. He was sucking off someone, which I knew could only be John, but you could only really see part of his dick and thighs. The rest was all Andy. The clip had been recorded in his room, probably at night or early in the morning, as Andy was wearing his diaper.
“Yeah, that’s my son,” I told the lesbian cop, “but I have no idea who the other boy is.”
“Did you know he has been using this phone to produce child pornography?” She asked me, “Have you ever seen this clip before?”
“I’ve seen that clip exactly three times,” I told her, “The first time, the only time and the last time. I haven’t checked my son’s phone for media files, only kept track of the people he have been calling.”
“And you don’t have the slightest idea of who the other boy is?” She asked me in that suspicious way, only cops can.
“Like I said, no. I don’t know the other boy. I don’t check out boy’s private parts.”
“Okay,” she said, “I’m going to hold onto the phone for now. I’m afraid it won’t be returned to you any time soon, if at all.”
“You can keep that fucking thing for all I care. I never want to see it again.”
I asked her if I could go see my son and she let me. She told me that he was going to be interviewed by someone from the police department, but didn’t know when that might happen. I, or Michelle, was to be present.
Andy was in the school’s little clinic. He was sitting on a child sized chair, looking extremely miserable. He flung himself at me, crying, the moment he saw me. As I hugged him tight, the nurse told me that apart from some bruises, whereof the most serious were his right eye and cheek, most of the damage was psychological, not physical. In short, his body would heal fully, but his soul had been badly hurt.
I took Andy home with me. I was still in my combat fatigues as I had left the National Guard school so quickly. He was still crying, quietly. The tears just kept pouring from his eyes. Cascading down his reddened cheeks. Dripping from his chin, falling onto his legs where they were soaked up by the pants he was wearing. We drove in a silence only broken by the sound of sniffing coming from my boy.
As I parked the car, Andy flew out of it and used his own key to unlock the front door to my house. He ran into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. I wasn’t about to leave him alone at a time like this. So I opened the door and got hold of his leg just before it vanished along with the rest of his body under his bed.
“Lemme go!” He wailed, the first words I had heard from him in four days.
I dragged the rest of him out from his favorite hiding place. Then went into the living room while hugging him close to me. I grabbed a plate from the cupboard, intending to use it as an ashtray. I had to have a smoke, my mind was spinning broken strings of thoughts into a huge web that I could see no way of escaping from. I had tried to quit smoking, or least smoke way less than I used to, but if I had ever needed a cigarette, that was the time for it.
I sat on the couch, Andy sideways on my lap. His face hidden from view, firmly pressed into my shoulder. He didn’t utter a word, just kept up his weeping, as I lit up a smoke and took a heavy drag of it. Some of the web crumbled, many of the unfinished thoughts vanished from my mind. The next hit of nicotine and some more of the web went up in smoke. Some of the strings of thoughts started to stand out among the other, not so important ones.
I started thinking of the first aid I had been taught and recently had been certified to teach others. The first point was to stop the accident from getting worse. Andy was the victim. He had been removed from the scene of danger. The kids he had been fighting had no way of getting to him now. The only one who could hurt him now was, in fact, me. And himself.
He wouldn’t die from being submitted to passive smoking for a while though, and I needed the nicotine to reduce the stressful feelings still wreaking havoc throughout my body. I was full of adrenaline, had been since the call from the secretary at school. I hit the cigarette again. Andy shifted his body, moving his head away from my shoulder. He slid downwards, ending up hugging me around my waist, his face resting close to my crotch.
My dick behaved itself, for once. It never reared its head up, just lay there docile, much like Andy. He was still crying, more fiercely now. He had found the air to really wail now. I knew not what to say, could only really put my arm more forcibly around him. I’m not sure how long we just sat there. I knew there were four cigarette butts on the plate in front of me. I had a lit cigarette between my index and middle finger.
So it had been at least twenty minutes. Andy’s weeping had turned into sobs and he had started hiccupping. I had never experienced him crying for so long at a time. Was he waiting for me to say something to make his hurt go away? If so, what could I really say that would’ve helped him in any way? I felt as helpless as he must have felt.
‘I’ll kill Vern. I’ll simply take my rifle, go and fucking shoot him in the head,’ I thought. Vern was Andy’s grandfather on his mother’s side. He was the one who had bought him that fucking phone. A phone now in the hands of the police. They’d surely start an investigation, to find out both who the other boy in the video clip was and where they had gotten the idea to not only perform oral sex, but to bloody well film it too.
However, shooting Vern wouldn’t help Andy. It would perhaps be a bit of payback, but no, I wouldn’t do that. Andy would lose both one of his granddads and his dad then. Andy was all cried out when I thought that, his hiccups had stopped and he had actually fallen asleep. I let him sleep, carefully untangled myself from him and went to clean the plate I had converted into an ashtray. I left him on the couch as I went outside to smoke some more. After opening a few of the windows to air out the living room.
As I sat outside, in my garden chair, I felt the wetness of my son’s tears. It was a bit chilly, autumn had replaced summer. The feeling, not unlike one of having wet myself was uncomfortable, but not to the point where I’d go inside and change my clothes. I still had lots more to work out, before that.
One of the first things you learn as a NCO, is that you need information to base your decisions on. If you make decisions without knowing what the hell is going on, you may worsen the situation. You also learn that any decision is better than no decisions at all, if it comes down to that. I had to get Andy to talk about what had happened. He was the only one who knew, other than the kids he had been fighting. But I couldn’t talk to them, even if I had known who they were.
I got up from the chair, coughing, trying to clear my throat. Smoking nearly a packet of cigarettes in only a few hours is something I really can’t recommend. I went into the living room and saw Andy laying on the couch. He was looking at me, well at least in the direction of me, but not really seeing anything. It was just a blank stare, something I had learned victims of a traumatic experience might do.
I picked him up, he wasn’t struggling against it but didn’t exactly offer any help either. I sat down in my lazy armchair, Andy in my lap, and began a slow rocking motion. Back and forth, ever so slowly. The chair creaked a little as it moved, like it spoke words of comfort to Andy.
“Andy?” I said.
I know he heard me as his body reacted to my voice. He didn’t say anything though. So I tried again. The third time he whispered back.
“I know it’s really tough, but I need to know what happened today. Please tell me, so I can figure out what to do to help you.”
“You can’t. Nobody can help me now.”
Damn, that hurt. It was like a bullet went through my body. Or what I’d imagine something like that felt. I’ve never been shot, and don’t plan to put myself in a situation where that could happen. I’m full of respect for people who accept that risk, but it just isn’t something for me.
It wasn’t so much the words that hurt, no, the sound of his voice was worse. He sounded like someone who had accepted the fact that he was going to die soon, knowing fully well, that nothing could be done to prevent it. It was an emotionless voice. Not cold, nor warm, didn’t have a whiff of resentment or sorrow in it.
“At least tell me about it, Andy. I only know that there is a video on your phone of you doing stuff to John. And that you got into a huge fight today at school. Please, I need to know the rest of it.”
Andy slowly, reluctantly filled in the blanks. Not in order, but I was able to put the missing pieces of information in the right places. His phone was in his schoolbag, in the front pocket. He had of course boasted about having a cellphone the day after he had gotten it. So everyone in the class, maybe even the entire school, knew he was the proud owner of a cellphone. His classmates, and I use that word very lightly as they surely weren’t any mates of his, not after that day, knew where he kept the phone.
He had forgotten to turn it off that morning.
“Sorry daddy, I didn’t mean to,” he wept, as he told me that.
In the first recess, he had went to the bathroom, leaving his phone inside his schoolbag as I had insisted on. One of the boys in his class had taken out the phone, seeing it was powered up and started playing with it. Soon, he had found the video clip of Andy doing John and played it back. Other kids in the class had been watching over his shoulder. As Andy returned to class, he was ridiculed.
“They called me a baby fag.”
I knew that for Andy being called a baby was the worse insult he could ever imagine. If you remember, I told you about what happened when John, who was his best, only, friend called him that. Now he had an entire school class chanting baby fag at him. Andy had gotten mad, well, far beyond that. He was ready to kill, if only he had been able to. He was the smallest kid in the class. But, he had immediately ran to the boy who sat with his phone and punched out at him.
He had sucker punched him right on his nose, spilling the first blood of the fight. Unfortunately the kid with phone was one of the larger boys in the class. And one of the more popular kids too. He and three of his friends had ganged up on Andy, beating and kicking him into submission and would probably have caused a lot more damage to Andy, had their teacher not entered the classroom at that exact moment. The boys had immediately withdrawn from Andy, now laying on the floor.
The bigger boy had dropped the phone next to Andy, who snatched it up and held it tight to his chest as the teacher approached him. She demanded to be told what had been going on, but nobody would say anything about it. The video clip was still playing, set to loop infinitely, so she saw at least some of it. Andy was taken to the school nurse, as was the bigger boy with the nosebleed. And that was when they called me.
It was easy to see why Andy thought this was the end of the world. It was bad, no doubt about that, but not something that he’d die from. But, I had to make sure he didn’t tell the police, or anyone else for that matter, of what I had done to him and John. That would just make it a whole lot worse, not just for me, but also for him and John. It would hurt a lot of people, far too many.
Andy didn’t need to be told, really, even if I hadn’t stressed just how secret he had to keep the stuff at my house, he just knew. I did say that Andy was wise beyond his years. Well, he flat out refused to say anything to the two police officers who kept asking him the same questions over and over, until Michelle finally stopped them. He didn’t so much as look at them, just sat and fiddled with some of the toys in the room, they interviewed him in.
The police reluctantly closed the case, Andy never got his cellphone back and it was only years later that he finally wanted one again. He didn’t want to talk to his mother about it either. Which really pissed her off to no end. She turned her anger towards me.
“You fucking corrupted him,” she told me.
Which I had, I just never expected him to do what he did.
“And it just had to happen now, of all times. You fucking idiot, Teddy!” She nearly screamed at me, “I’m fucking pregnant. I don’t need this kind of shit right now.”
That really came as a surprise to me. But Hank had knocked her up. Unlike me however, he had actually proposed to Michelle. They were expecting a baby girl. So Andy would get a little sister, although from a different father. Michelle and Hank had talked about him adopting Andy, making themselves a happy little family. But, then the proverbial shit had hit the fan.
“You fucking ruined it, Teddy.”
They still got married, but Hank didn’t adopt Andy. In fact he turned out to be worse than Lyle, John’s dad, when he said he never wanted anything to do with Andy anymore.
“I’m not happy, Teddy, I’m really not. I love Hank so much. Andy, well he just sort of happened you know, a downright mistake. I should really have gotten an abortion back then.”
I called Michelle a lot of things when she said that, much too harsh to repeat here.
“You can have him, you know. Full time,” she informed me, like he was just a piece of unwanted furniture.