Date: Fri, 8 Sep 2006 15:17:23 -0700 (PDT) From: adm2780 Subject: Brads Idol 10 All rights reserved. Other than downloading one copy for personal enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author. As in real life, the sexual themes unfold gradually and are kept to a realistic level. Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to the author at adm2780@yahoo.com This story contains descriptions of consensual sexual contact between males, adult and minor. As such it is homoerotic, designed for the entertainment of mature adults. If you are not of legal age to read such material, or if the subject matter would create irresolvable personal moral dilemmas, please exit now. Chapter Ten: Brad's Idol Uncle Ray convinced Dad that all the yelling, fussing, and magic worked with the belt was not going to solve the problems until some basic questions were answered. The main issue was whether I wouldn't do the work, or whether I couldn't do the work. If it was the first, then Uncle Ray agreed maybe some butt warming was warranted. If it was the second, then they needed to know why. The next question became what had the school done to determine what the problem was and corrective measures? The answer to most of the evaluation and corrective measure questions was nothing. This then lead to an assumption that I both couldn't and wouldn't do the work because of frustration. You would think that a county with one of the state's major universities would have a good school system. After all, look at the resources the county had to draw from. Well, this county happened to have one of the lowest rated school systems in the state. Simply stated, the system did not have the ability to evaluate and correct the problem. The system did have the standardized tests which I was given to measure intelligence and educational level; of course the tests were written requiring a particular level of reading skills. The tests were given towards the end of the first semester and results would not be available until after the holidays. Now, understand that new rules were put in place for being able to visit Uncle Ray while all this was going on. I didn't particularly care for the rules, but no one asked me about them, they told me. The rule was fairly simple, each Friday I had to get a note from the teacher that I had completed and turned in my work assignments for that week. The work didn't have to be perfect, but it did have to be complete. Sometimes I made it and sometimes I didn't. There was one span of about seven weeks I didn't get to go. The normal routine was every two weeks. Missing one trip I could handle if I was the one that messed up, but two trips in a row was different. Two weeks later the teacher said I hadn't turned everything in and I thought I had, but again my thoughts didn't count. This was totally unfair and a real bummer. To make matters even worse, weekends the note wasn't good, I was also grounded to the house. I was not a happy person at this point, but perked up when dad said Uncle Ray was coming down. This was particularly good since I knew dad would always waive grounding if Uncle Ray wanted me to do something. Uncle Ray was due in Saturday morning and I was really looking forward to him getting here. He surprised us, or at least me, and showed up Friday night. Dad already had plans for Friday night so it was just me and Uncle Ray; I was really going to enjoy this. (I later wondered if Dad and Uncle Ray connived this to give me some what of a break.) My plan was to get an early bath and climb into his lap and let him play with me all he wanted. I couldn't wait to feel the raspberries, his thumbs working over my nips, him tickling me down the sides; or, maybe, he would give me one of those fantastic powder massages. Well, part of this worked out and part didn't. Uncle Ray knew Dad had plans and that he and I would be left alone at the apartment. That meant he was thinking like me. The apartment only had a shower, and not a large one at that. Uncle Ray decided to get a shower before settling in and said I could follow. Well, saying I could follow can be interpreted in different ways. I could follow with my bath or shower after him, or I could follow him into the shower. I didn't ask which he meant and did my own interpretation. Right after he got in, I joined him. Initially, he looked at me with a bit of surprise. I'm not sure why since it wasn't unusual for me to do this at his house. "Is someone looking for some attention?" I just nodded a little and then stepped over to him and put my arms around him. "Uncle Ray, are you still mad at me?" "Brad, I'm not mad at you; I am concerned for you. You have to get an education to make in this world, son. I know you're not totally to blame for this mess, but you are partially to blame. I want you to learn that when things happen, even those things we can not completely control, we have to work through them. You can't just take the short cuts -- in the long run you will suffer. That's a bit heavy for you right now, but you'll understand better later on. Right now you have to trust your dad and me to do what we think is best for you; neither of us would ever deliberately do anything to hurt you. Understand?" "Not really, but yeah for some of it. I know you wouldn't hurt me. It's just that...well...it sure is taking a long time and I miss coming to see you." "I think what you miss is being able to run around naked and get me to give you some special attention." I just looked up at him and grinned. He soaped his hands up good and bathed me; it always felt funny when he would run his fingers through my crack when bathing me. Then I got him to get on his knees and I did the same for him. I ran my fingers through his crack while bathing him and almost lost my whole hand in there. When we were dry he sat on the sofa in his normal position. This time though he put a couple of pillows in his lap for me to lie on. This was great, this was the powder massage position. I just lay there planning to watch whatever was on television while he made me feel good. When he reached over to the table, he didn't get the powder I was anticipating, he picked up my history book. Now, this is not what I was thinking about. He put the book on my back like he was laying it on a table. "Uncle Ray, this is not what you're supposed to be doing." "Well, it may not be what you think I should be doing, but it is what I planned on doing. I knew your dad would be out tonight and most likely out late, I told him there were a couple of things I wanted to test you on and needed for you and I to be alone. Your dad left me the history book over here with a note on what chapters you missed reading; that's where we will start. You just lay there and watch the show while I read this to you." He read at a nice steady pace, it wasn't too fast but not too slow. I listened while watching the television. The chapter only had about twenty-five pages in it including some pictures, so it wasn't overly long. When he finished I wondered what came next. He laid the book on my back and started shuffling through some pages. He also had sticky notes that he was writing something on. Anytime I would get restless while he did this he just reached down and either patted or squeezed my little butt and told me to be patient, he was almost through. When he finished he closed the book and set it on the table and he turned off the lamp. That's when I knew he was finally starting to think like me. The soft powder felt good as it landed on my back. I lay where he had positioned me and let his fingers work their magic. It felt great, his fingers running across my shoulders and then down my sides, across my back and up the other side, then he would reverse the pattern. Each swipe of his fingers moved ever so slowly to the center so he was tracking up and down the backbone. Then he reversed the whole process by ever so slowly widening the pattern to reach my sides again. When he reached the base of my neck on the last pass he then used the tip of his thumb to outline the shoulder blades. It felt like he used two knuckles to track back down each side of the back bone to the top of my butt. His fingernail then outlined the top of each cheek before following a concentric circle to the middle. After each cheek was treated this way he reversed the pattern. This process was repeated three or four times. Sometime while doing this, he had used the remote to turn the television off. All you could here was our breathing and him shaking the bottle of powder occasionally. The last two passes over my cheeks were all the way around with his fingernail. He traced the outline, jumping the well formed by my thighs, cheeks and crack. On the second pass I spread my legs as far apart as I could on the sofa to give him complete access to the sensitive areas. I could feel his nails gently traveling down the back of my legs and up inside the thigh. Each time he did this I arched my back and got goosebumps all over, this was absolute heaven. He had to make four or five trips over each leg to completely cover the back of the thigh. When he made the last trip over each leg, pulling his fingers up inside the thigh, he stopped and gently massaged the perineum. I lay there squirming and whimpering just as I had back in the summer when he first did this to me. Oh how I wanted for him to do it again just like this. He did do it two or three more times including the treat in Cherokee, but there was something special about lying in his lap on the sofa, in the dark and quiet. I again had reached the stage of a whimpering puppy as he rolled me over. I gradually opened my eyes to peer up at him and then touched his chin with my finger. He looked at me with that special glean in his eyes and smiled. He worked the front of me just as he had before and I squirmed just as I had done before. When he stopped I again opened my eyes to look up to him. We exchanged smiles and I wrapped my arms around his neck and chest. Cradling me in his arms he put me in bed. As he lay behind me I could feel the soft hair on his chest against my back. Laying my head on his outstretched arm I took the hand lying over my stomach and pulled it up to my chest. I held onto his hand as I slipped into sweet dreams. School may be my hell, but I knew where to find heaven. On Saturday, Uncle Ray and Dad went to the ball game without me. This was a first, but they said since I was grounded I had to stay by myself until things worked out. I was miserable. Of course, I didn't think about the fact they could be miserable, too. Later I found out Dad and Uncle Ray had worked these little excursions out just to make a point with me. Uncle Ray convinced Dad this was a much better way to make me suffer and remember what I didn't want to happen, than using a belt on my butt. He was right, I hated it! When they got back from the ball game both of them opened a beer and sat down in the living room. Dad reached over and picked up the history book Uncle Ray read from the previous night. Dad didn't read, he started asking questions. I realized the questions were related to the chapter Uncle Ray had read. I didn't have any trouble answering the questions; after all, Uncle Ray had just read the material to me. I knew Dad didn't ask me all the questions, he only asked three of four. After that he looked at Uncle Ray who just smiled. "Almost verbatim", is all Dad said. Shortly after returning from the holidays the semester ended and Dad received a call from the school regarding the tests. A face to face meeting was arranged. The school said only Dad should be there, but he insisted on Uncle Ray attending. Well, to say the meeting didn't go well would be a major understatement. The school determined I was a slow learner with a border line IQ and would be placed in special education classes. I was sitting in the waiting area and could hear Dad very clearly -- he was not a happy person, neither was Uncle Ray but he wasn't as vocal as Dad. The bottom line was Dad said there was no way he would allow them to put me in special education and blamed them for a lot of this problem. They were the educational system and should have realized I had a major reading problem long before now and taken corrective actions. When they came out of the meeting I knew to stay quiet and just follow. Part of my salvation had been the chapter of history Uncle Ray read me and the way I answered the questions for Dad. Dad and Uncle Ray said something about having no faith in the school system and knowing they would have to go outside to get the needed help. Uncle Ray wanted me tested by one of the national companies that specialized in correcting learning problems. Dad acted a little hesitant until Uncle Ray told him he realized it would cost money and would took care of it. He wasn't so much concerned with the cost as he was correcting the problem before it became worse and had an adverse effect on my future. After completing the preliminary paper work and sending a transcript of my records to the testing center, I was at Uncle Ray's two weeks later taking more tests. This time, the tests were written and oral. The tests were spread out over two days and except for the reading, I didn't think they were that bad. The results were to be ready in ten days so an appointment was set for the three of us to be there. One thing about these tests is I was back with Uncle Ray. The tests were given on a Friday and Saturday, this meant I was with Uncle Ray Thursday night. I didn't waste any time letting him know I preferred to stay home -- just the two of us. He understood and just smiled. When we got home that night I was stripping before we hit the front door. I dropped my bag in the bedroom and headed for the bath to fill the tub with warm water. When he asked if he should get a bath and leave plenty for me for a bubble bath, I let him know we should jump in together. Uncle Ray did bathe me and then he got out telling me to stay there a few minutes. My anticipation increased with each minute until he came to get me. He carried me into the living room where he had a fire in the fireplace, the lights were out, and he wrapped me in a warm towel. I had been here before and couldn't wait. It was more wonderful than any previous time. Why? I'm not sure. Maybe because it had been so long, maybe because I wanted it so much, or maybe because he always knew a little different trick so it was never the same as before. I think the real reason it was so wonderful now was because it was Uncle Ray I was with. This was the first school year in my young life that I hadn't had to endure several ass beatings because of notes from school. Before, everyone knew I wasn't dumb and just assumed I wouldn't do the work. The school system never assessed the problem or took any corrective actions. The difference this year was Uncle Ray; he was my real salvation. He didn't assume anything other than I had the intelligence to deal with school. He asked if I 'wouldn't' or couldn't', from there he went looking for answers and solutions. Is it any wonder I felt secure and safe with this man? He cared about me and I knew it. He turned me into a whimpering puppy as usual, this time telling me how I was his boy and how much he loved me. I really relished these times and never wanted them to end. When he had turned me over on my back and finished with my front I took his hand and placed it over my groin, squeezing his hand with mine. He knew what I wanted and gently massaged me there for a few minutes. While he massaged me I used my finger to lightly outline his nipple and gave it a slight pinch. When he jumped I let go and wrapped my arms around his neck. He carried me to bed. The tests results showed I did well in all areas except those requiring extensive reading. Part of these areas were repeated in the oral exams where I did well. The conclusion was I had a reading problem. Now, this was not earth shattering news for Dad and Uncle Ray; their question was what could be done about it? They explained that the root of the problem was I saw things through only one eye at a time. I needed to learn how to control which eye was being used. When reading a person uses peripheral vision to see where to pick up on the next line. The peripheral vision went with the eye I wasn't using. Yes, the problem could be corrected. A special program was arranged for me to attend training sessions on Thursday, Friday and Saturday for two consecutive weekends. The center felt I could learn enough during that time to make a substantial difference in my ability to function in the classroom. I failed history and English the first semester and was not doing well in the second semester. The center would contact the school and set up a program for me to make up these courses in the summer. This would also give them the opportunity to evaluate how well I was doing. With a little work and luck I wouldn't have to repeat the grade and should have no trouble moving forward in school. The training sessions ran into the last week before spring break. Unknown to me, Dad and Uncle Ray made an agreement that if the school said I was doing well and applying myself, I could stay with Uncle Ray that week. Part of that reward was being able to attend an antique auto auction with him in Atlanta. This is where Reginald became a part of the family. The auction was traditionally times with the Azalea Festival and was held at one of the resorts. What was particularly interesting about this trip is Uncle Ray only bought one- way flights; either he bought something or it was a long walk home. We arrived on Friday night and had our normal relaxing time that night. The first day of the auction was on Saturday. He spotted a vehicle he wanted right off the bat. Many cars passed the auction block during that first day, but he waited. The auctioneer, who knew Uncle Ray from many previous dealings, advised us the car would come up around 5:30 to 6:00; we waited. Uncle Ray had found out the seller had several vehicles in the sale. It appears his wife had given somewhat of an ultimatum of they go or she goes; the cars were going. What kind of car was it he thought so special? It was a 1932 Rolls Royce 20/25 Hooper Town Car. The car hit the auction block just before six. The key here is that most collectors had left for dinner and this type of car is not a big dealer favorite due to the limited market. When the auctioneer asked for bids, no one responded. Uncle Ray sat back and watched; the longer they went with no response, the bigger the smile on his face. Another key factor here was the seller had been drinking all day. Uncle Ray opened with a bid less than half what the auctioneer had asked for; the auctioneer didn't look happy. He did this three times, each time the seller was getting more agitated. Finally, Uncle Ray asked the auctioneer to ask the seller what the minimum acceptable bid would be. When the seller responded Uncle Ray turned around with what might be called a shit eatin' grin. He bid the price plus one dollar and the car was his. The car was paid for and loaded on a transport before we headed for supper. At supper we named the car Reginald. The next morning, the seller showed up to spoil our very upbeat weekend. BAM!! BAM!! BAM!! This was not someone doing a gentle knock on the door. It sounded like someone was pounding the door with the side of their fist. Uncle Ray looked at the clock, not quite seven in the morning, and then got up, put on a robe, and answered the door. I sat up with the covers wrapped around me to see what was going on. "I want my car back. You took advantage.." "Excuse me, and you are....?" "The Rolls, it's my car and I want it back!" "I recognize you .... Doctor. Now I'm going to tell you what I want, and that's for you to leave. You come banging on my door before seven in the morning, frightening my kid. I'll talk with you about the car at the auction company's office later this morning." "We don't need to talk later, you took advantage of me and I want my car back." "As I said, I'll talk with you at the auction company's office later this morning, we can meet there at ten. Now, I'm asking you to leave." The man didn't look happy as Uncle Ray stood there holding the door open for the man to leave. Finally, he did leave. Uncle Ray took off the robe and slipped back in bed with me. I wrapped myself around him and lay my head on his chest. "Uncle Ray, can that man take Reginald?" "No, Brad, not as long as all the paper work was properly signed. There's something I want you to learn from this though. Notice how he banged on the door and then became very aggressive?" "Yeah...." "Well, some people think that's how you should do business. They try to intimidate you to get you to do whatever it is they want. In this case it was to get me to agree to let him have Reginald back. Think about it, I never said yes and I never said no. The trick is to take the wind out of his sails. I made him wait til the auction company's office opens, this gives him time to settle down and will take the bite out of his bark." "Uncle Ray, are you going to let him have the car?" "Only when the devil wears snow shoes. If he had approached me as a professional person, which he is supposed to be, and explained he had been drinking too much and was not fully aware of what he was doing, I might consider it. To approach me like a jackass, which is what he did, there's no way I'll give it up unless there was a problem with the paperwork. When the office opens I'll verify everything was done correctly and then tell the good Doctor no. Understand?" "Yeah. If he acts like a proper business man, talk. If he acts like a jackass, don't talk." "That's a simple way of saying it, yes." "Uncle Ray, it's still early, but he got me wide awake. Let's play some before we get up, okay?" Reginald stayed with the family for many years until it was involved in an accident. The car flipped off a trailer while being towed to a show. Pre-WWII coaches were aluminum over wood frames; the frame shattered. The car couldn't be rebuilt because the plans were destroyed when the plant was bombed out during WWII. What else did the training sessions mean? I would be with Uncle Ray this summer. I would have to go to school, but I would be with him. Also, this summer would see my introduction into the field that would one day become my vocation. End Chapter Ten To Be continued: comments welcome; contact Dwight Wilson at adm2780@yahoo.com.