Absolute Convergence: Housekeeping
Chapter Eighty-eight
By John Yager

This is the third chapter of a new story about Robert Ballinger and William Amsted and their life together.

While this story is being added to the existing Absolute Convergence file, it constitutes an independent, self contained narrative about one weekend. I've subtitle, Housekeeping, to distinguish it from the original series and from the first of these stories, which was subtitled Transformations. While it will be helpful for readers to know the earlier stories, this story should stand on its own merits.

Absolute Convergence made its first appearance in January, 2001, as a series which eventually ran to a total of eighty chapters, the last of which was posted in January, 2004. I never anticipated the series continuing for so long and I am still amazed by the incredible loyalty of readers who stayed with me from the beginning. I am also sincerely appreciative for those newer readers who have contacted me from time to time to say that they've discovered the series and ventured through the collected chapters.

I'm always glad to receive comments, questions, criticism and encouragement and hope to continue hearing from you. I try to answer all messages promptly. If I'm slow at times it's only because of the pressures of work.

Andrew has agreed to continue giving me much needed proofing and editorial help for which I am sincerely grateful.

I also want to express special thanks to Budd, who gave me invaluable assistance with the Hollywood scene and the changes which were occurring during the periods described in Transformations and Housekeeping. Without his help this story would not have the degree of authenticity I was able to convey.

Exclusive copyright (© 2004) is held by the author and this work may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.

All the stories I've posted on NIFTY can be found by looking under my name in the NIFTY Prolific Authors lists. If you'd like to receive e-mail notification of subsequent postings, previews of upcoming stories, and other bits and pieces, please let me know by sending your request to the e-mail address below.


In early 1983, it was decided that William and I would start spending time in England on a regular basis. The plan was for William to begin working with Albion on an expansion of their production capabilities and for me to help with the organization of a new project development team modeled on Wordsmith.

We'd arranged for Albion and Wordsmith to share the cost of a flat which would be our London base. We wanted a place which was centrally located and which would be well suited for official entertaining as well as for our own use. After a series of transatlantic phone calls to and from an agent Peter recommended, William and I made a quick four-day trip to London in mid-March.

We bought a flat in Chelsea in Leonard's Terrace, facing Burton's Court and just behind the Royal Hospital. It is a lovely area and the flat we chose was large and bright with large south facing windows. It was part of an old pre-World War II block which had clearly been designed for another era. There were two large bedroom suites, plus a guest bedroom.

Across a service corridor which was entered from a separate side door, was an independent small suite which was clearly intended as servants' quarters. It was surprising that after a succession of owners, the flat had not been broken up into smaller units.

Also, to our advantage, and one of the primary reasons we chose it, the flat had been completely remodeled in the mid 70s. The baths and kitchen were in very good condition. We needed to work quickly and didn't want to undertake a large remodeling project, especially since we would have to trust it to others and would be making critical decisions by long distance.

We did want to do a complete redecoration of the flat, so the estate agent referred us to an excellent interior designer whom we met with and liked. After some lengthy discussions about our desires and taste, we left the project in his hands and returned to LA, trusting that the flat would be done to our satisfaction and in time for my arrival in May.

Even though I was used to the continual inflation of LA real estate, I was shocked by the prices of property in London. But by then I'd learned to keep my mouth shut when it came to such issues. After all, the cost of the flat was being covered by the three corporations: Albion, Wordsmith and Starmark.

As things worked out, I was the first of us to go over to the UK for any protracted stay. I was in London between late May and October, and during that period made only one short trip back to the States, a visit prompted by a series of key board meetings I had to attend.

During those months William came to London four times. The longest of his stays was in late June and July, when he was there for just over three weeks. With his guidance, as well as on my own, I got to know London very well. It is a city I've come to love and where I feel very much at home. Over the intervening years we've spent a great deal of time there and the flat in Leonard's Terrace has become our second home.

It was just a week before my departure for London in the spring of 1983 that William opened up to me again about his experiences with is father.

"Dad is back and forth so much," he'd said, "and it's likely you'll see something of him in London. In fact, I suspect he'll make a point of inviting you to his parties."

"Does that worry you?" I asked, wondering if William didn't trust Peter to leave me alone. I felt sure he knew I'd never be unfaithful to him but it was clear William was uneasy.

"Yes, it worries me," William whispered, giving me a loving kiss. "But I also think it is time you heard the rest of the story."

"Your experiences with him?"


"A cautionary tale?"

"Perhaps," he smiled. "Forewarned, forearmed."

I poured us both drinks and returned to the sofa, snuggling against him, ready to listen.

"Do you remember my telling you about how I asked Peter about guys fucking?"

"Yes, I remember," I said. I had very clear memories of everything he'd told me over the years about his sexual experiences with is father. "I think you said that was when you were sixteen."

"Yes, the summer I was sixteen," William said as he leaned over more closely against me and took a short sip from the drink I'd just handed him.

It was an especially lovely spring evening and we were sitting in our living room with the drapes still open. Beyond the terrace the distant sea shimmered in the last light, and inside a warm fire glowed in the fireplace. It was the kind of evening we both loved, a quiet evening alone at home.

"That first time Peter and I got into what I guess you'd call 'ass play', he worked three fingers into me, massaging my prostate until I came."

"Yes, I remember," I said.

"Well, that night when we went to bed, naked of course, he handed me a tube of lubricant and asked me to finger his ass the way he'd done mine in the shower that morning.

"He rolled over onto his stomach and spread his legs. I was a little cautious, but very curious and very turned on and I did as he said, taking it very slowly, but eventually getting three of my slender fingers into him, just as he'd done with me.

"'Now just stay very still, Will,' he said when I'd spread his ass ring enough to get the third finger in. 'Just keep your fingers there and wait until my muscles relax. You should be able to feel my sphincter loosen after another minute or so.'

"I did as he said and sure enough, within a minute I could feel the tight grip of his muscles on my fingers begin to loosen perceptively.

"'Take your finger out slowly,' he said, and when I did, he turned over onto his back. 'Now I want you to fuck me.' he said.

"I was surprised, assuming he'd insist on fucking me first, and maybe never submitting to being the bottom with me.

"He directed me, telling me to lift his legs up and rest them on my shoulders, told me to work more lube into him and spread it generously over my cock. When we were both ready he told me to work my way forward, kneeling between his legs, and position the head of my cock against the gaping pucker of his ass. I did as he said and when my cock touched him I was amazed by the feeling of radiating heat.

"'Now slide in slowly, kiddo,' he instructed me, and I did, feeling that amazing tightness of another man's ass and the amazing heat of his body. I realized as I moved into him that this wasn't a new experience for Peter. He knew what he was doing and I couldn't help wondering what men he'd let do this and how many men he'd been with.

"'Now hold still,' he said when I was fully in him. I did as he said and again felt his ass relax. It wasn't long before he told me to pull back and come into him again. I did so, slowly at first, but soon he was encouraging me to drive into him harder and faster. I was very ready to comply.

"It wasn't a very skillful fuck, that first time, and I went far too fast. I'd have liked for it to last but I felt my own climax coming and made no effort to slow down. When I came it was evident that Peter didn't, but he just pulled me down against him and kissed my forehead and ears and eyes.

"Neither of us said a word and I, for one, was only awake long enough to feel my cock soften and slip out of him, but that was it. Peter made no effort to fuck me that night or for several nights to come."

"But he did fuck you eventually," I whispered.

"Yes, of course, but I think he was waiting until I asked for it."

"And you did eventually ask?"

"Yes, as it turned out just a day or two after I fucked him for the first time, Peter took off for Switzerland to see Charlotte and I was alone at the house for almost a week."


"Well, just the staff, but there were no other family or guests there. I did a lot of reading and got ahead for the classes I'd be taking the following year.

"I also discovered as stash of gay pornography which Peter had left in a fairly obvious place. It was actually under some of my own books so I assumed he'd intended for me to find it."

"Was that your first experience with pornography?" I asked, remembering the impact of my own first exposure to such material in Memphis when I was just a year or so older than William would have been then.

"Yes, I guess, at least any of the really hardcore stuff. I'd seen some smutty pictures boys had at school, but they were mostly of women and didn't interest me much."

"I never heard of a father intentionally introducing his son to pornography before," I said, realizing again the amazing difference between my own upbringing and William's.

"Well, you know Peter," he said.

"Yes," I agreed. It was all the explanation I needed.

"Well, in those magazines and books there were photos and stories about men and boys my own age. They made it sound as if anal sex were a perfectly normal thing, and something which was very enjoyable.

"At any rate, while Peter was gone, I spend a lot of time wanking to those photos and while reading those stories. I even tried fucking myself with anything I could find which approximated the size and shape of a dick."

"I'm surprised Peter didn't leave you a dildo along with the magazines," I smiled.

"I think if he'd have thought of it, he would have done," William said, and I was glad to hear a slight chuckle in his voice. This was serious stuff and I knew it was difficult for him. It was good that, after all he'd been through, he could still see some humor in it.

"So what did you use?"

"Candles worked best. I found a couple of thicker ones, about an inch in diameter and eight inches long."

"You don't believe in starting slow, do you?" I laughed, turning to give him a little wet kiss on the ear.

"Well, you know," he laughed, "when something's worth doing, it's worth doing right."

"So by the time Peter got back, you were ready for the real thing."

"Yes. I think he knew I would be."

"So you asked him to fuck you."

"I didn't ask verbally, I just got the lube I knew by then he kept in his bedside table and laid it on my stomach when I got into bed with him the first night he was home."

"He understood what you wanted?"

"Yes, of course. He picked up the tube and looked at me, raising his eyebrows in a questioning way.

"I was lying on my back beside him and I just nodded, spreading my legs. As soon as he knelt between them, I lifted them onto his shoulders, giving him full access to my rear. That was all the invitation he needed."

"I hope he was gentle with you," I said, feeling a lump in my throat as I said it.

"Yes, gentle and slow, but it still hurt like hell when he finally pressed into me. Peter is big, but you know that."

"Yes," I said, remembering.

"He took a lot of time opening me up, just the way he'd done that first time he fingered me in the shower. But this time I was on my back and he could see my face. His eyes were fixed on mine the whole time, watching my expression. When he'd gotten three fingers into my ass and I'd had time to relax, he just raised his eyebrows again, questioningly.

"I nodded and he nodded back."

"And he fucked you," I whispered, picturing William, my lover, my partner, as a boy of sixteen, lying there, vulnerable, yielding to his father's will. That was the moment Peter must have planned for over a period of five or six years. The lump in my throat had gotten so big I could hardly speak.

"Yes, he spread lubricant over his cock, which was harder and bigger than I'd ever seen it. Then, with his eyes still fixed on mine, watching for some sign I wanted him to stop, and knowing I'd not give him such a sign, he moved his cock to my ass and gently pressed in.

"I know my eyes must have been wide open in amazement and pain as the huge head of his cock spread my sphincter to the tearing point. At least I thought it was spread to tearing point, not knowing then what Peter had in store for later.

"I felt my body yield and he was in me, the flared head of his cock just passed the ring of muscle and I was all ready to cry out for him to stop."

"But you didn't," I said. "You didn't ask him to stop."

"No, he knew I wouldn't," William said.

"He waited there for quite a while, just holding completely still, hovering above me, supporting himself on his extended arms, staring into my eyes. Eventually my body relaxed and the pain subsided.

"I nodded again and Peter pressed slowly in. I felt as if my ass were on fire, stretched, burning, wanting more, wanting him, wanting it to end, all that the same time.

"I locked my legs around his hips and my hands were on his shoulders, trying to pull him in more quickly, but he held back, moving in slowly, inch by inch.

"Eventually he was in me all the way and again he stayed very still, looking into my eyes, reading me, waiting for me to give him some signal. The pain passed and I felt an amazing fullness, as if my whole body had been possessed by him.

"I realized that I was covered with sweat and my ass was twitching, spasming, I guess. It felt strange and frightening and wonderful.

"I nodded again and he pulled slowly back, then slid into me, back and in, back and in. I felt as if an electric current were surging through me, as if I were on fire and freezing all at the same time.

"The head of his cock glided over my prostate, sending shock waves through my body. I didn't know it was my prostate, of course, but I knew he was touching that same spot he'd touched with his fingers.

"Peter knew my orgasm was building before I knew. I guess he read it in my eyes, or in the way my body stiffened. He changed the angle of his entry just a bit and the head of his cock hit my prostate square on. I erupted, shooting a stream of come up over my chest. Then I just lay there gasping, not knowing what to do, doing nothing, letting Peter continue to move in me, taking a few more strokes and then flooding me with his seed.

"I had this sudden moment of enlightenment when I realized that his seed, the same seed he'd planted in my mother to make me, he'd now planted in me. It made some sort of mad sense, as if the circle had been completed."

"I'm not sure if I swooned or just slept, but when I woke again it was in the middle of the night and Peter was sleeping soundly beside me. His seed had run out of my ass and made a damp, sticky puddle on the sheet.

"I got up and went into the bathroom, sat on the toilet and expelled what was left. It came out with a loud fart which frightened me. My ass was sore but not as bad as I'd expected. Mostly it just itched.

"When I looked up Peter was standing naked in the door, watching me, a slight smile on his face. 'You're okay?' he asked.

"'I think so,' I responded.

"'Was it what you expected?' he asked.

"'I don't know,' I whispered, then added a tentative 'yes.'

"'It will get easier, better,' he smiled. I knew he expected to do it again, to fuck me whenever he wanted, letting me fuck him from time to time, just to keep things square."

"Did you feel as if you were completely under his spell, William? Could you have said no?"

"I could have, and eventually, I did. When I told him it had to stop, he respected my wishes in his own unique way, but it was a long time before I got to that point. I had started it, even though at sixteen I didn't understand what I was doing. I didn't realize the power sex gave him over me."

"I don't think any boy of sixteen could understand," I whispered, "but Peter understood, he had to."

"Yes, I know what you're going to say, that he shouldn't have introduced me to the overwhelming power of sex, at least not at that age, not his own son, even if I did ask for it."

"I was thinking that but hesitated to say it." I said. "I can't judge him without judging you, or myself, for that matter, and I don't think it's my responsibility to do that, to judge."

"Perhaps not, but I need to tell you the rest."

"Whenever you're ready."

"I want to tell you now, all of it. Maybe it will finally exorcise the ghosts."

"I hope so," I whispered, realizing what a weight William carried.

"It went on like that for over two years. One of the things I realized about my relationship with Peter was how it moved forward in stages. It was as if we moved to some new plateau and then stayed there for some time. To that point it had always been me who opened the door to some new level of experience, so to a very large degree I had myself to blame, even if I really didn't understand what I was doing.

"As I'd suspected, Peter expected me to be available to him whenever he wanted, which was often, whenever I was with him in London over school holidays or between terms, and when we were together at the house in Sussex."

"Even when Charlotte was there?"

"Yes, even when she was there and even if the house were full of guests.

"He'd come to my room at bedtime, wearing only a dressing gown. I always knew what he wanted, what he expected. In fact, I got into the habit of forcing myself to have a bowel movement and washing myself well before I went to bed, realizing it made it easier, and knowing he liked me clean.

"When I told him what I'd been doing, he said, 'good boy, I should get you an enema hose."

"I was horrified by the idea but he brought me one and I began to use it when he was there, just to be ready for him if he came to my bed.

"I always left my bedroom door unlocked, so he could come in whenever he wanted. He'd come in and just stand there looking at me, reaching behind him to bolt the door so we'd not be disturbed.

"Then he'd come to my bed.

"I never even considered resisting him. I'd be there, naked in my bed, waiting for him, wanting him, disappointed if he didn't come. Some nights he when didn't join me, I'd lie awake, waiting, jealous, thinking he must be with Charlotte, preferring her to me.

"Sometimes I'd doze but eventually, when it was late and I knew he wasn't coming, I'd wank myself off and finally go to sleep, still wanting him.

"One night, soon after the anal stuff began, when we were still at the house in Sussex, I told him how abandoned I felt when he didn't come to my room. He just chuckled and said, 'well, Willy Wanker, those are nights when you'll just have to take care of yourself.'"

"'I do,' I told him, 'but it's not the same,' embarrassed by the admission.

"'I'll buy you some toys,' he laughed. I didn't know what he meant, but a few nights later he brought a package to my room. 'Open it,' he said, tossing it on my bed as he took off his robe and got onto the bed with me.

"Inside the package was a dildo almost exactly the same size as Peter's cock, and with it a butt plug which was a little bigger. They were both made of some sort of plastic or rubber, colored an unnatural pink. I'd never seen such things before, although I'd heard other boys talk about them. Of course, I knew what they were and what they were for.

"'Do you want me to fuck you with it?' Peter said, picking up the rubber cock.

"'I'd rather have you,' I whispered, feeling my entire body tremble with fear.

"'You can have both, but the toy first,' he said. I want to watch you use it.'

"'I thought you said you'd do it,' I whispered.

"'I'll start, but I want you to get used to using it on yourself,' he said. His voice was low and gruff and I realized he was very turned on by what he was proposing. 'Now, let me see you work some lube into that cute ass.'

"Without questioning him, I rolled over and got the lubricant from my bedside table. He'd left a tube there a few weeks before when he first started coming to my room, replacing it whenever the supply got low.

"I spread a generous glob of the stuff on my finger and worked it into my ass while Peter sat there on my bed watching, fondling the dildo, running his fingers up and down the shaft. He was fully erect and I recognized the expression on his face, the glint in his eyes, as the signs of lust I'd come to know so well.

"'More,' he said after I'd worked one finger in.

"I followed his directions, working two and then three fingers into my hole, opening myself up until I knew I was open and relaxed enough to take the grotesque thing which Peter still held, still fondled.

"'I think I'm ready.' I whispered.

"'Think so?' he growled, moving into a kneeling position between my legs, as if he were going to fuck me with his own cock.

"He positioned the dildo against my ass and I was surprised by its coolness. It felt inanimate, lifeless, not throbbing and hot like Peter's cock.

"He pressed the flared head into my ass and I felt my muscles relax to take it. I'd learned well over the last few weeks. He moved it in with a slow, steady motion, just the way he fucked me, once I got used to the feel of his cock. When he had it fully embedded in me, he let go of it and my muscles began to push it out. It was involuntary on my part, to push it out, but I actually liked the feel of the thing in me.

"I instinctively reached down between my legs to grasp it before it slipped completely out of me, and worked it slowly back in.

"Peter smirked, chuckling a little, and I realized he'd anticipated my reaction, knowing I'd take over if he let go.

"'Now let me see you fuck yourself,' he growled.

"I moved the dildo in and out, finding my prostate and pressing against it with the head of the artificial cock, sending little shock waves through my body.

"As I did so, Peter continued to kneel there between my legs. I looked down and realized he was stroking himself as he watched me manipulate the rubber cock.

"It wasn't long before I got a regular rhythm going and was moving quickly toward climax. At that point Peter put his hand over mine and stopped me.

"'Take it out,' he ordered.

"I just let my body push it out of me and then laid it over on the bed beside me.

"Peter quickly moved forward and pressed his own hot, throbbing , living cock into my gaping ass. He fucked me hard, driving into my body, bringing us both quickly to climax. I shot a huge load up over my chest as I felt his own seed erupt in my bowels.

"When he pulled out he reached over for the butt plug and held it so I could see it, see what he was getting ready to do. He pressed the blunt head of the thing against my ass and I felt myself tremble as he slipped it slowly in. I moaned as it spread the muscles of my ass and then slipped passed them with a little pop. The T-shaped handle nestled into the crack of my ass and I suddenly felt amazingly, wonderfully full.

"'Leave it in all night,' Peter whispered, leaning forward to kiss me on the forehead in a gentle, fatherly way. It was such a contradiction with the violent way he'd fucked me just minutes before. 'It will keep my seed in you,' he smiled.

"'Don't forget to clean up your new toys, Will,' he said as he put his gown back and turned to go. 'I'm going up to London tomorrow and won't be back until the weekend. You're on your own for the next two nights, so I hope you'll enjoy yourself.'

"I not only left the plug in all night, but most of the next day. I was amazed by the feeling of it in me as I moved around or sat at meals. By late afternoon I knew I had to have a bowel movement so I took it out and gave myself an enema, cleaning myself out completely, and then putting the plug back in. Without it I felt uncomfortably empty.

"That night I locked my door, knowing Peter was gone and wouldn't join me. I took the plug out again and lay naked on my bed for hours, slowly fucking myself with the dildo. Then, before finally going to sleep, I put the plug back into my sore, gaping ass, and slept like a baby the rest of the night.

"That became the pattern for me over the next few weeks, until I returned to St. Aden's in the autumn."

"But Peter continued to fuck you when he was home?"

"Yes, almost every night. When Charlotte was gone, he'd have me come to his room. When she was there, he'd come to me for a while before going to his own room or to hers. They had separate bedrooms, you know."

"Yes, I remember," I said, stroking his shoulder, drawing him closer to me.

It was beyond my comprehension, even knowing Peter, how a man could treat his own son in such a manner. It was certainly completely foreign to my own experiences as a teenager living at home, but to an ever greater degree, I realized William and I had come from different worlds. It continued to amaze me that we'd met and fallen in love, and made a wonderful life together over the last ten years.

"There is more," he whispered, moving against me.

"It can wait," I said, kissing his perfect ear.

"Yes, but I want you to hear it all before you leave for London."

"There's still time for that," I said, standing up and extending my hands to him. I pulled him up and led him off through the dark house to our bedroom where we made love slowly, gently, eventually falling asleep in each other's arms.

To be continued.