Date: Tue, 13 Sep 2005 20:40:56 -0700 (PDT)
From: Stu Wrigley <ink_blotches@yahoo.com>
Subject: Born of Fire (gay/adult-youth) (acual e-mail)

The following story is nothing short of pure fiction, it never happened in
reality, and if anybody who reads this story can say otherwise, then the
events within this story are purely coincidental to said actually occurring
event.

I take no personal responsibility to whatever happens to readers of this
story after they have... well obviously read it (kind of redundant, don't
you think?) This applies to all laws and ordinances in your place of
habitation.

I'm open to just about any kind of feedback from my stories except flame
e-mails, and no I'm not talking about e-mails with magenta and hot pink
colored themes. You know the kind I'm talking about.

Oh, and just for a serious note, this is obviously a fantasy world where
diseases and viruses do not exist, so in real life, use your fucking head
when it comes to sex with others. Be smart, and be honest.

Now that I've written the usual pre-story bullshit, on with the insanity!

------------------------------------------------------------------

~ From Inside a Fucked Up Mind ~
INK BLOTCHES PUBLISHING
ink_blotches@yahoo.com

"Born of Fire"
Materialized: September 8, 2005


Part One: The Neighborhood Pest

My next-door neighbor's son is a constant pain in the ass to most of the
neighborhood. For the other part that hasn't been affected by his
pain-in-the-ass-tendencies, they've heard the stories and count their
blessings that they don't have to deal with that shit. For those, like me,
who do, we've all thought of ways of taking care of the situation and
solving all of our problems.

Perhaps I'm getting too far ahead of myself, or even going too far off the
deep end with this. The kid hasn't done much that would be considered a
criminal offense or anything; though the time he nearly killed
Mrs. Robert's cat could be construed as such. The point is that it's all of
his little stunts that cause most of us to get uptight. I guess you'd call
us uptight from the outside. Most of us just enjoy a quiet, peaceful
lifestyle out here. Free from the rigors of our labors and problems that
inhibit the rest of the planet. We don't need this little bastard running
around and screwing all of that up for us!

For most people around here, it's the noise pollution that he creates that
drives everybody nuts. He drives a custom Ford Focus with a sound system
from hell. Believe me, after living my teenage years through the 80's I can
appreciate loud music, especially AC/DC blasting through my ears at a
hundred and twenty thousand decibels, but not this crap he's listening
to. Before you run off calling me 'Old Man' and shit, I'm only late 30's
and can appreciate rap music, and I'm talking about good rap music. Not
this crap that he listens to that's nothing but repeating the same phrase
over and over and over again, about raping women, stealing "bling", and
fighting 'The Man'. I didn't know 'The Man' still fucking existed these
days.

But this kid's favorite thing to do; is burn things. He is a pyromaniac in
every sense of the word. I watch him in his backyard from my porch, and
every day he is out there either lighting something on fire, making
something explode, or torturing insects with a magnifying glass while the
sun burns overhead. He's obsessed with fire. Everything he owns has some
sort of flame decal or design on it. His car has matching flames on the
side of it, as do his pair of Chucks, he even had a hairstylist dye his
crew-cut hair red, orange, and yellow so it would appear to be on fire.

I don't understand what's up with his parents, why they'd let him do this
to himself. My guess is that as long as he's not doing that crap inside of
their house, to their possessions, then it's okay. People are weird in that
kind of way. Thankfully he keeps his burning habits to a small section in
his backyard, where apparently his father gave him permission to burn
things.

One day while I was out mowing my lawn I watched him set up one of his
'flame shows' as I've come to call them. He dragged out a beat up
entertainment center with a television older than my father and set it in
the middle of this giant pit he had dug near the edge of his parent's
property, one the skirts the bed of the creek. He set up the entertainment
center and placed the television on it before drenching the entire set-up
with gasoline. Then he retrieved a patio chair from a shed they had in the
backyard, along with a cooler full of what I suspected to be beer, and
wasn't too surprised when he pulled one out of it. After lighting his
set-up on fire, I watched with almost stunned amusement as he sat in his
chair and watched the television that was burning in an alarming rate as if
their was a somewhat interesting show on at the moment. This kid wasn't
just a pain in the ass; there was something wrong with him. It was as if
the fire mesmerized him. I finished with the lawn and headed inside, where
I proceeded up to my bedroom where I had a much more private, if somewhat
more distant, view of this scene, and I'd be damned if I didn't tell you
that he seriously sat in his chair, watching what was burning in front of
him to the ground for nearly an hour and a half. He then went back inside
the house and I could see through several windows that he was heading up to
his room, which was opposite my own bedroom. I would have continued my
voyeuristic actions had it not been for his shades being drawn.

This was certainly not the only occurrence in which I observed him doing
things totally bizarre with what I had just seen.

Part Two: A Father's Request

With work and doing chores around the house, I hadn't seen our pyromaniac
friend at all over the next two and a half weeks. Then one Thursday night,
while I was cooking dinner for myself, I received a knock at the door. I
know it sounds a little clich^Â to say that I wasn't really expecting
anyone, but I seriously wasn't. Before you all get your hopes up and think
that it was him standing at the front door, out in the rain, drenched in
water, and wanting to come in because he had locked himself out of the
house and his parents were away for the weekend, you're way fucking
off. Well, not entirely.

I answered the door and it was actually his father; a not-so-bad-looking
man of about six and a half feet in height and close to two hundred pounds
in weight (not fat but not muscle, that in-between weight).

"Ah! William, what can I do for you? Would you like to come in?" I was a
little too enthusiastic, it's been that long since I had gotten laid and
I'll tell you, I wouldn't mind romping around with this piece of meat
standing on my front porch.

"Nah, that won't be necessary Richard, I just have a quick favor to ask."

"Ask away."

"Yeah, well you see my wife and I are going out of town for the weekend and
we're leaving our son home by himself and I was hoping that you could just
keep an eye on him from time to time. You don't have to babysit him or
anything, just if you see anything that looks suspicious or like he's..."

"...about to burn the house down?" I interjected humorously, though I could
tell that Mr. Parker didn't find it all too funny, in fact he looked a
little scared.

"Actually I was more concerned about him lighting himself on fire."

"Look, it's really not my place to ask, and feel free to stop me if I go to
far, but why..."

"is my son so infatuated with fire?" He finished for me, Christ this was
like playing Mad-Libs. "Well my wife comes from Scottish decent, and she is
very proud of it. She used to drag me to all kinds of Highland Games and
Kilt Shops, a little embarrassing, but I got over it." I gave him the 'get
to the point' look as I was getting hungry and wanted to return to my
dinner. "Anyway, when our son was born she wanted to give him a name which
held some meaning to Scottish tradition, so we named him Cin ed. It means
'born of fire' in Gaelic, which is something that my son has become
infatuated with ever since he found out a couple years ago."

"How old is your son?"

"Seventeen."

"Alright, I'll keep an eye out and call you if anything out of the ordinary
happens. Has your number changed at all?"

"Nope, still the same."

"Not a problem then."

"Thanks Richard, and if you ever need a favor, I'm your man." I nodded and
politely shook his hand before somewhat slamming the door in his face. It's
not that I'm rude or dislike the man, but I was hungry and he just made me
postpone my dinner for ten minutes, the bastard.

So I had free enterprise to 'look in' on Cin ed did I? That's such an
unusual name, but it made things a little more clear, at least one of those
pieces of puzzle fell into place.

The rest of that Thursday went without incident, and I even checked through
my upstairs window to see if I could get a couple minutes of spy-time on
Cin ed, as I noticed his car was home and light was coming from his window,
alas, the shades were down again. I went to bed that night somewhat upset,
however I knew deep down that this wasn't going to be an ordinary weekend.

Part Three: The Shades Come Up

The first half of that Friday was as mundane as the rest of the week had
been, though with a little added spice in my knowledge of what wait ahead
of me at home. I sat in my cubicle all morning trying to keep a clear mind
and read through several memorandums, though my imagination ran wild with
much fervor. I began imagining scenarios of him playing with matches and
receiving the shock of his first burn. I don't know why, but this was
turning me on. With each situation he became more and more undressed. I
pictured him with a set of nipple piercings, a tattoo of a winding flame
staring from his navel and wrapping around his body all the way to the back
of his neck. I bet he was hairless, probably got sick and tired of having
the hair on his body singe by the intense heat of his flame-shows, so he
simply shaved it off one day, though I imagine him having a small tuft of
hair under each arm pit, you know the amount. Large and dark enough so it
doesn't look like a small mass of peach fuzz yet small and contained enough
so it didn't look like the floor of the barber shop. The kind that whenever
he clamped his hands behind his head so he could comfortably recline back
you'd be able to see through the arm holes of his white t-shirt and bring
you to 'half mast'. You know: that kind.

I got so fucking worked up at the office that I had to restrain myself from
running to the bathroom to furiously jerk off. 'You need to save all of
that for later tonight when you have a proper visual.' I kept telling
myself, all the while my hormones began planning a major full-scale
invasion to surprise attack the brain while it was lacking a good blood
supply.

I left work at five; got in my car, and twenty minutes and one speeding
ticket later I got home, only to notice that Cin ed wasn't home yet.

"Well that fucking sucks!" I said aloud while tossing my keys and speeding
ticket down on the kitchen counter. I knew I had some bills to pay but
decided against doing so at the moment. I'd probably end up accidentally
filling out the wrong checks for the wrong bills, or end up writing a check
for my obscenely large Hugo Boss credit card bill and send it to Catholic
Charities, like they fucking need more money as it is. Seriously, they've
got so much money God's probably going, "Umm, can I come visit you guys for
a change? Your place is so much nicer than mine."

I ended up going out into my backyard and attending to some weed pulling;
after all I needed to keep my hands busy. You know what they say about idle
hands, don't you? You don't? Well look it up fucker, about every Baptist
mother says it to her children.

Though it was in late August and six-thirty at night, the sun was still
beating down on me, and I resorted to taking off my shirt while I was
gardening. Looking down I couldn't help but smirk, still in decent shape at
this age was I. Almost all the weeds were gone and I was about to start
ripping the flowers out of the ground when I heard the bass boom echoing in
the distance and coming rapidly closer. I knew who it was and before I
could begin piling everything back into the wheelbarrow I had out with me
Cin ed pull into his driveway at a hundred and seventy-three miles per
hour, stopping millimeters before the garage door. He stepped out of his
car dressed in his usual garb: bright-white tee-shirt with the sleeves cut
relatively short, jeans which were fastened around his ass rather than his
hips, so much that the bottom of his tee-shirt only came to the waist of
his jeans, and of course, his flaming Chucks.

Cin ed, however, wasn't alone; he had another guy with him, and a good
friend I'd guess, about as hot as Cin ed. He handed his friend a large
plastic bag and they started heading for the backdoor to the house when all
of a sudden Cin ed grabbed his friend on the shoulder, spun him around, and
planted the biggest fucking kiss on him that I had ever seen in my life! I
stood in awe while my cock just rose to fucking full mast; did they not
even know I was standing there watching them? I mean I know that his and my
backyards are somewhat secluded as they occupy the back portions of the
neighborhood, but damn! The friend or I guess boyfriend, or male
prostitute, or whatever the relationship was, dropped the plastic bag on
the ground so he could rub his hands all over Cin ed's body. As he did, I
saw a few large candles and tubes of ointment roll out of the bag and onto
the concrete. What the hell?

The two boys broke their kiss and then bent down to start picking up all of
the contents on the ground. While they did I could have given vital parts
of my anatomy to the fact that I saw Cin ed look slightly up towards my
direction and give me a little wink. Not knowing for sure and not wanting
to be actually seen, I bolted into my house and ran upstairs to my bedroom,
literally ripping each article of clothing off of my body along the way.

I closed each blind, shut off the lights and pulled up a chair to the
window opposite Cin ed's, drawing the blind a little open so I could get a
decent view. It didn't take long for the light to come on in his room, and
I was enthralled over the face that he was opening his blinds.

"We need to get some fresh oxygen in here." I could hear him say, though
barely audible to me even with my window being only a mesh screen. My heart
was pounding in my chest and I had beads of sweat all over my body, a
feeling that intensified as a light breeze came through the window.

The action on the opposite side was starting to warm up. From the view I
had, I could see Cin ed's entire bed, his desk and the side of his
computer, though I couldn't see the screen. It was as if the room was
designed and arranged so that each and every bit of action on the bed was
visible by me. If Cin ed lay in his bed and began masturbating, his whole
body would be visible, and pointed directly at me. This was better than
fucking porn!

There was a nightstand to the either side of Cin ed's bed and on the right
hand one (left to me) Cin ed had placed the plastic bag of candles and
ointment, while his friend stood closer to the window, with his left side
facing me. Cin ed turned and walked back towards his friend, and again I
could have sworn that he winked in my direction, all before he reached out
and started stroking the slight bulge in his friend's jeans.

"Are you sure you want to do this Matt? Once we start, I'm not stopping."
Matt nodded his head before grabbing the back of Cin ed's head and pulling
him into another intense lip lock, much harder than Cin ed had given him
outside earlier. I slowly rubbed my cock while precum oozed from its tip,
but didn't stroke at all, I wanted this to last a lot longer. The two boys
made out fiercely with one another, rubbing and pressing firmly against
each other's thin, tight bodies. Matt's shirt was the first article of
clothing to do, and he a decent body for a guy his age. Nice little six
pack, slightly defined pecks, dime-sized nipples, which Cin ed immediately
began to suck on. Matt ran his hands through Cin ed's hair and began
moaning as Cin ed bit on his nipple and began pulling it out from the rest
of Matt's body. Not in a rough, rip-it-completely-off kind of way, but in a
sensual and erotic kind of way. Cin ed gave the same treatment to the
opposite nipple and worked it for a moment, before Matt pulled him away and
lifted Cin ed's shirt off, apparently wanting to return the favor.

Cin ed's body was exactly as I fucking expected it to be. Hairless, not
ripped by muscle, but just flat and smooth, with the pit hair I imagined,
god damn was that hot shit. The only thing lacking were the tattoo and the
nipple rings. Damn shame, I could picture Matt pulling on those for Cin ed,
but judging by the way Matt was working over Cin ed's nipple with highly
audible moans, I wasn't about to complain, and neither one of them were
about to either.

Slowly Cin ed made his way to his bed, turning so that Matt would be
sitting on it, still engrossed in pleasing his friend's nipples. I could
see each boy's dick bulge obscenely in one another's jeans, and Cin ed
began to form a wet spot on the front of his. He pushed Matt onto his back
and climbed atop him and used his tongue to lick up and down Matt's face,
all before moving down and nibbling at Matt's neck. Matt, beyond the stage
of pure ecstasy, wrapped his legs around Cin ed's torso as Cin ed began
sucking on his neck. God those were the days, when you could lay on your
boyfriend and create a hickey the size of a silver dollar without a care in
the world.

Though I couldn't see clearly enough, I could tell that Matt's eyes were
rolling into the back of his head as his mind swamped with sexual
mist. Cin ed kept administering his handiwork on Matt's neck while reaching
up for the plastic bag and grabbed a long and thing red candle. Cin ed,
wielding the candle almost like a dagger, straddled Matt and fished around
in his pocket a bit before producing a lighter.

"What in gay hell?" I ejaculated, (not had an orgasm, it's another way of
saying 'shouted out').

Cin ed, thankfully not hearing my outburst, lit the candle, and become
transfixed by it, all the while Matt moaned on the bed blow him, rocking
his hips back and forth.

"Patience, it'll be a few more seconds. Here you go." Cin ed leaned forward
(his back way to me) and as he turned the candle upside-down, Matt let out
a piercing scream.

"You said it wouldn't fucking hurt!"

"It doesn't." Cin ed said placidly still eyeing the dancing flame.

"Yes it does, and I don't want to do any more of this shit." Matt tried to
get up, but Cin ed pushed him back down and pressed his candle-free hand
against Matt's mouth.

"We're going to keep doing this, I told you there was no turning back. If
you're too weak to take this, then you can do it to me." Cin ed then thrust
the candle into Matt's hand and rolled over onto the bed beside him, giving
me a great view of both boys. Matt, in particular, had a huge spill of
candle wax covering the middle of his chest and his left nipple. Cin ed
reached across and started rubbing the wax-covered portion of Matt's chest,

"God this is hot."

"No shit." Matt replied sarcastically.

"No, I meant sexy. You gotta do it to me, fucking pour that shit all over
my body. On my chest, stomach, and cock. Bend me over and pour it all over
my asshole. Come on baby, fucking burn me with that shit!" commanded Cin ed
still staring and rubbing at the wax with a sexually enchanted smile upon
his face. Matt looked stupefied.

"Dude, you're too fucked up, seriously, I can't do this." He got up from
the bed and Cin ed made a grab at him, but Matt swatted him away, grabbed
his tee shirt and left the room. I was pissed, Cin ed looked like he was
ready to cry. He put the candle out with his fingers, making me cringe a
bit, and got up from the bed, tears streaming down his face, and shut the
blinds.

I was still horny, but I couldn't beat off then, I was too fucking
confused. He liked getting burned? If you all thought that was a little
fucked up, wait until you hear what happened the next night.

Part Four: The Fire Dance Ritual

Saturday morning and afternoon was as uneventful as it could possibly
get. Cin ed didn't leave the house all day, nor did he open one blind or
make a single noise. Two hours into watching his house I gave up and
decided to forget about what had happened the night before. I went into the
basement, turned the radio on, and began cleaning. You'd think that hard
work could make a man forget about anything right? Well the radio wasn't
fucking helping. First it was Hendrix's "Fire" and Johnny Cash's "Ring of
Fire" followed by Travis Tritt's "Burning Love" all on separate stations to
boot!

Since basement cleaning detail was out of the question, especially without
music, I had to fucking find something to do to keep my mind off the
situation. Needless to say, when I walked upstairs around three in the
afternoon, I found I could revert to my old hobby: Cin ed-watching.

There was my shirtless mindfuck in his backyard, using a double axe to chop
log after log after log of firewood. I seriously sat in my kitchen and
watched him cut wood for two straight hours, and he was going at it like
his name was Paul Bunyan. With each piece he tossed effortlessly into his
fire pit, until it the woodpile was the size of a fucking VW Bug, I swear.

With his sweat soaked flame-colored locks covering his face, Cin ed turned
on heel and headed back towards the house, and didn't come right back
out. I waited about ten minutes before deciding he wasn't going to come out
until later. Obviously he was going to have a bon fire, as was tradition
for him on Saturday nights, but this thing was going to be fucking huge.

I caught a nap and set my alarm for sundown, which was around nine at
night. Before passing out I had set up a viewing spot in the kitchen, where
I had a bowl of popcorn and the phone at reach from the chair. There were
only two lights on over at the neighbors, the back porch light and Cin ed's
room light. When that went out, I knew it was show time.

I took my seat completely naked, with all of the lights, and watched the
neighbor's back porch intently. For a few moments, nothing happened, until
the porch light went out, and out stepped Cin ed. I knew it was him as I
could see his outline, yet something was different, he had something in his
hand. A second late the tip of that something lit and became a torch, which
revealed Cin ed as bare-butt naked! He stood on his porch, torch
outstretched and pointing to where the large woodpile was and he started
marching towards it. His skin was creamy white and very smooth, with no
hair on it at all. Even his pits hair was gone! He looked like a
well-endowed twelve-year-old boy from the crotch down, and was hard as a
rock. His cock stuck out at the same angle as the torch he carried from his
body, as if it were pointing the way.

My own cock was harder than ever and I began stroking it, though
absentmindedly. I couldn't stand being this far away, and thus I got up and
walked outside, still naked as the day I was born. Across the yard, Cin ed
has thrown his torch into the woodpile and it came to a roaring tower of
flame in no time. Still walking towards him, I watched as he outstretched
his arms as if offering his body to the ever-growing fire. I couldn't
believe that he could be that close to such a large fire and not be
developing blisters, welts, and all kinds of burns. Cin ed then began to
stomp his feet and chant in a language I couldn't understand. Hell I don't
even know if it were a language or just a hysterical ranting from a
lunatic. Cin ed pranced; cart wheeled, jumped, skipped, twirled, stomped,
and shouted at the top of his lungs. He danced around the fire like a demon
in hell with the energy of a small child on speed.

His chanting then ceased, and he came to a halt in front of the fire,
almost abruptly. His arms outstretched again, back arched, and his cock
pointing directly into the fire Cin ed began gyrating and thrusting his
hips toward the fire, as if he were fucking the air in front of him. I
walked around to the side of him and watched as his cock shot a massive
load of cum into the fire, untouched by anything save for the intense
heat. Cin ed's eyes were closed, as if he were in a trance.

"Cin ed?" I said, trying to wake him from his reverie, but to no avail. I
repeated his name and shook him violently by the shoulders, yet he remained
close eyed and grounded to the spot. I turned and was going to head back to
the house to call 911, but Cin ed suddenly spoke,

"I have been sending my prayers to Belisama and she has answered them. You
are her emissary, and I must receive you."

"What did you say?" I asked, turning around and seeing that he was now
facing me, his eyes wide open, filled with immense lust.

"I have made my offerings to Belisama and prayed to her once every week
since I discovered the true nature to my soul. The goddess of light and
fire has sent me my desires. You, emissary of Belisama, must take me, for I
am yours." After he finished his mind-boggling proclamation he kneeled
before me and kissed my feet. I don't know what hurt more, my head or my
cock. This has to be some sick fucking joke, but dammit, I don't care, he
obviously wants me, and I'm going to give the kid what he wants.

Playing along I said, " And what, my child, am I to do with you?"

"You are to do as you please master. As a gift from Belisama I would
imagine you are to possess the immaculate powers of flame, heat and
light. Use them on me, torture me with it, I need it, please.

"Have you prepared for this?" I surely hadn't anything in the house for
this kid to play with. I can't believe I don't even have any candles.

"Yes master, in my bed chamber."

"Good then, put out this fire and sent its powers back to Belisama, for we
should not take what we not need from her. We will only need a smaller
quantity." Cin ed kissed my feet again and scampered off to where the
garden hose lay in the yard and extinguished the fire, sending clouds of
smoke high into the air. He dropped the hose on the ground and came back to
my feet.

"Stand my child and lead me to your chamber." With that he again kissed my
feet and stood, leading me by the hand into his house. We climbed the
stairs and he entered his room first. I stopped for a moment, collected
myself, and followed suit. There Cin ed stood, at full attention, at the
foot of his bed. I walked around in front of him, staring directly into his
eyes and begun kissing him. Our tongues danced inside each other's mouth,
his submitting to mine and letting me force mine down his throat. His hands
ran up and down my back, squeezing kneading my ass cheeks together. With a
sudden force, I threw him down onto his stomach and cracked him right on
the ass with a hard slap and repeated, getting harder and harder.

"Oh yes! Thank you! YES! YES!! HARDER! HARDER PLEASE MASTER!" he bellowed
and I complied. His cheeks were bright red and continued to get darker and
darker. I used my right hand to keep spanking him and the left to open up
his nightstand drawer. I looked in and saw several large candles and a
lighter.

"Stay right there and spread your ass cheeks." Cin ed did so as I took one
of the large candles and lit the wick. I watched as a pool of wax began to
form underneath the flame and when there was a large enough amount I said
to Cin ed, "Are you ready my child?"

"Yes master, please do it!" Needing no further invitation, I turned the
candle upside-down and dumped all of the wax right onto his pink asshole,
and watched it harden instantly, all the while Cin ed moaned like a whore
in heat. As more wax accumulated on the candle, I searched through more of
the drawer and found two bottles of lotion. One read: Careful, contents
flammable and should be used only by professionals. The other read:
non-flammable lotion will protect your skin against fire for as long as
five minutes time. I took the first bottle and applied a small amount to
Cin ed's right ass cheek and then set the flame from the candle on it. It
lit up like a Molotov cocktail and Cin ed cooed as if it gave him pleasure.

"You asked to receive me child, and now I'm going to take you." I took the
second lotion and rubbed a generous amount all over his ass and asshole
after plucking off the dried wax. I applied another liberal amount to my
stomach, balls and crotch, before adding a small amount of the first lotion
to the front half of my cock. While I rubbed the lotion on my cock, I used
my other hand to finger fuck Cin ed's ass, stretching it out nicely. "Turn
over and look at me."

Cin ed did and watched like a child on Christmas morning as I took the
candle and brought it to my lotion-covered cock, lighting it on fire. The
non-flammable lotion I applied first protected my skin from the flame,
which sent a wave of heat from the top of my head to the tips of my
toes. Cin ed's eyes widened and he spread his legs, pulling them up to his
chest. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his breath became heavier.

"You were born of fire, do you wish your creation?"

"I do." He replied instantly, and lunging forward I bellowed to my boy
slave.

"Then have it!"

The End

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