Date: Sun, 9 Aug 2020 19:38:10 +0200
From: Ryan White <liciousryan@gmail.com>
Subject: Jailbait

HOLA PEEPS!!

Enjoy this one. It's based on a real life boy I had met last week lol.

Stay safe, guys.
Ryan

JAILBAIT
CHAPTER ONE

"And how do you feel about that?"

God.

"I don't know how to feel or what to do? I came to you for help. I hate
what I am. What I'm feeling. And I'm scared that if I get close to a boy I
really like or that I find attractive, I wouldn't be able to control
myself!"

I took a deep breath. Years and years of frustration and self loathing had
just come out to a mere stranger, and I had plenty more to give, given the
chance.

The so called psychiatrist that I was preferred to, she just smiled and
made a note inside her file she was holding on her lap. Because her life
was bloody perfect. She wasn't looking at little girls and thinking...I
wanna suck her little titties really bad.

Yeah right.

She didn't have to cope with what I wad feeling. Not one little bit. I came
here as a last resort. I had even quit my job two weeks ago, because the
sheer damn urge to have a boy in my arms, and even worse, in my bed, was
getting way and way too much. And too frequent.

I hated myself.

From when I could remember, I had feelings towards my own gender. But even
worse, was when my interest came and stayed...at pre teenagers.

Specifically, small boys aged between anything as young as eleven and
fifteen. Anything above sixteen, I simply didn't have any lust or interest
in. No turn on. Whatsoever. And that of course meant that I wasn't sexually
attracted to guys my own age, which was twenty-five.

Like I said, I had a pretty good job as a substitute teacher, that I had to
give up. I couldn't physically take it any longer. To be with all those
boys day in, day out and having to be close to them, smelling them when
they arrived for school, after school activities...or the worst, when they
had that faint whiff of boy sweat on them after playing sports during
recess...it was any boy lovers dream, but also his nightmare.

Because all of them boys were off limits.

Jailbait, if you would.

And now this woman before me with all her certificates being displayed on
her walls and all her experience, was just sitting there and judging me for
what I was saying, writing inside her cute little folder every fucking five
minutes.

What did she know? Really now?

Legally she was forbidden to tell anyone what I was telling her of course,
but there was still that nagging feeling that someone ...someone
KNEW. Someone actually knew.

"Kyle, have you ever touched any boy before? Sexually. I need to know, in
order to help you. It will not go anywhere except these four walls. Have
you ever physically touched a boy in order to feel sexual relief?"

I closed my eyes and wished that I could be literally anywhere except
there.

"No, Doctor Havel, I have not. That is why I'm here in the first
place. That's why I quit my job. That's why I came to you, in order to stop
this...this need I have to be with a little boy, sexually, as you
said. It's killing me, Doctor. Nothing happens to a guy when he's gay, and
he's checking out a dude at the gym. So what happens to someone like me
when I see a twelve year old boy at school, where I had to give him and a
load other boys an hour of gym every week? Three times a week at that!
Its...its horrible, Doctor. Please, please help me."

**

What a fucking waste of time.

I still had some money in my bank account from when I received my severance
pay from my previous school I taught at, but it wouldn't last forever.

I knew of a few all girls schools that needed teachers urgently, however,
and I fully intended to apply to them. It wasn't like I would be facing
torture from my students every day there, would I?

I got into my car and started to drive home, to my modest apartment that I
was renting. As I drove towards the green light, ahead of the turn off that
I had to take in order to get home, I sighed inwardly as I realised
immediately that I wasn't gonna make it before the light turned red.

And just as my luck would have it, the BMW before me managed to squeeze in
turning into the side street mere seconds before it flashed bright red and
I was forced to bring my own car to a stop.

Fuck this. I had enough.

As I not so patiently waited for the robot to finally turn green so I could
get the fuck outta there, I saw a young boy on a bike that was way too big
for him, speeding across the road before me.

I frowned.

He was going way too fast! He was gonna crash! I wondered why he didn't
pull his bike's brakes but I didn't have tine to worry about a kid that was
obviously looking for trouble.

He probably knew exactly what he was doing. Trying out some or another
trick or even a dare. Boys that age were always challenging each other and
trying to out do the other. Probably harmless fun.

I turned up my car radio and sighed with relief as the robot finally turned
green. I turned right into the side street and drove quickly until I could
see my apartment building from afar.

As I turned around the corner of the side street, getting ready to turn
into my own lane, I nearly crashed my car as I saw the same young boy I had
previously seen speeding on his bike before me, laying face down in the
street.

I stopped and braked just in time before driving clean over him. He was
trying his best not to cry, brave boy that he was. But oh god...he was
bloody as!

He had a huge wound on the side of his head and the blood was quickly
spreading down his chin, and onto his shirt coveted upper chest.

His arms were leaked with countless cuts and scrapes, each more bloody than
the previous ones. His legs were laying still, it thankfully didn't look
like he had damaged them. Thank God.

I wanted to get out of my car to help him but as always, instinct kicked
in.

Kyle...this was a boy. A very, very young boy at that. Your weak spot. The
same thing you were just at a damn psychiatrist for. She managed to do just
about jack shit in order to help you but it was it really necessary to
tempt fate?

Jesus, Kyle!

This was a young boy, yes but it was a boy who needed help! Are you really
gonna leave him here in the street? Where numerous cars and all sort of
vehicles can and will trample over him?

No. No...not that beautiful young boy. Look how much he's hurting ...god,
he must think I'm a freak for just sitting in my car staring at him!

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

I opened my car door and quickly jogged over towards him. It looked even
worse up close. God, how fast was he going?

He was cringing in pain, and in his quest not to cry, well he was failing
pretty badly with several tears glimmering across his face.

"What the hell did you do? Why were you speeding like that? I saw you, at
the intersection!" I shrieked in sheer sadness, seeing his bike lying
beside him, and of course the piece of metal and rubber would have come off
better than the kid himself.

The boy tried to stand up, but he yelped in sheer pain and agony the moment
he put pressure on his leg. Fuck...it was probably broken and all. I didn't
even think that was an issue, at first, because he was keeping it still,
however now, it became clear why.

"Okay, okay, you just lie still. Where do you live? Cone on, kid, answer
me," I asked as I stood up and grabbed my phone out of my jeans pocket.

"It's...owwww...its that building over there!" he hissed as he again tried
to stand up without much success.

The building over...my god, that was MY apartment building!

I looked down at him, in sheer shock and confusion, and for the life of me,
I couldn't remember ever seeing him before. The building had nine levels of
floors though, it was of course possible that he had been there for years
and I just haven't seen him. I was on the fifth floor, afterall.

"Kid, what's the number of your parents? I need to phone them and let them
know why happened so they can come and fetch you. That head wound looks
like it needs stiches," I warned as I once more did a quick scan of his
features.

Lord help me. He was beautiful underneath all that filth and blood.

That's exactly what I didn't want! I couldn't help how I was feeling
towards boys his age and even more to those of them who didn't even realise
yet how handsome they was.

The boy pulled a face and mumbled something inaudible.

"What?" I asked as I bent down so I was looking into his teary eyes.

"I left my phone at home. I don't know their phone numbers..." he squeaked
as he tried once more, in his kiddie brain, to stand up, even though he
knew full well that it was impossible.

Fucking hell. Well, I couldn't leave him here. That wasn't an option.

With a full swift movement, I reached over to him and picked him up. He
groaned at the top of his lungs, as his leg was left hanging next to his
aide. His head wound was till bleeding and to my horror, it was smearing
onto my clothes.

I slowly walked over to my car and with great difficulty, I opened the back
door. He started to cry as he realised what I was doing.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise. I'm taking you to hospital. From there
on, I'm gonna try my best to get hold of your parents. Okay? Trust me!

His eyes was embedded with fear and of course, pain. He looked around the
car in fright. God...he must have thought the worst. I suddenly wondered
how many horror movies he had seen in his short life.

"Turst me..." I said, one more time.

He seemed to calm down, even if it was only for a little, and allowed me to
place him inside my car. I made sure he was seated against the door, with
his leg stretched out on the seat. It wasn't comfortable option, but it was
the best he could get right now.

I tried my best to forget his smell...that charming pre teen smell that all
boys that age have possessed.

There was more urgent things to focus on now.

**

At the hospital, he was shaking and scared beyond belief, and I tried my
best, as a virtual stranger, to assure him he was okay and safe.

A bunch of nurses came to assist me, and they placed the boy into a
wheelchair. When they took him away from me, he latched onto my arm, and he
shook his head.

"Ssshhh, it's gonna be okay. They are gonna take care of you, I
promise. What's the number of your apartment? I can go and get your phone
if you want?"

"Number thirty-six, third floor" he said so softly, I could hardly hear
him.

I watched in pain and sadness as they took him away. I had full faith they
would heal him and take care of his injuries.

I had his house key. Time to get his phone and alert his parents.

It was only then I realised...I don't even know his name.

**

To make a long story short, I found his phone relatively easily, it was on
charge inside the living room of their apartment. I quickly searched for
anything that looked like "Mom" or "Dad", under his contacts, and phoned
both of them.

His dad was on a business trip, it turned out, but his mom was quick to say
she was on her way to the hospital.

I wasn't sure if I was still needed now at the hospital, with his mom on
the way, but I decided to go there anyway. I wouldn't be able to fucking
sleep tonight if I didn't know he was okay.

As I entered a packed Casualty, I saw the nurse who had taken him away at
the nurses station and quickly approached her. She immediately pointed
towards a smallish woman who was sitting to my left with what looked like a
plastic cup of coffee inside her hands.

Of course...the nurse cannot give me any information. I wasn't immediate
family.

I gently walked over to the woman.

"Excuse me? Mam? I'm Kyle Grant. I was the one who found your son and
bought him here to hospital."

The woman's face changed from worry to relief. She stood up and grabbed
me. She hugged me as tight as anyone had ever have done.

"Thank you! Oh god...I told him! I told Shawn he's not allowed to take his
dad's bike out! His own has a puncture and neither of us knew how to fix
it. Of course he wouldn't know how to ride a bike twice his size. Thank
you. From the bottom of my heart."

So...his name was Shawn.

Beautiful name for a beautiful boy.

Kyle...stop it.

**

It had been a week since I had found young Shawn on the road, all bloodied
up and ravaged...and I haven't heard anything since.

I really wanted to take the elevator down to level three and find out how
he was doing but I was so afraid of overstepping boundaries.

In these days we lived in, a mother would surely suspect something if a
twenty-five year old man showed an interest in a twelve year old boy. Even
though technically I was the one who had actually taken him to hospital.

I got back from what I felt was a very successful interview, when I saw his
mother inside the lobby. I had to go past her in order to get to the
elevator...should I just fuck everything, avoid trouble and awkward
questions and take the stairs?

No. No! I had nothing to feel bad for! I didn't do anything to him! Why
couldn't I just ask...just that, nothing more...how he was?

I took a deep breath and walked closer to where his mother was busy sorting
through her mail.

"Sorry? I don't even know your last name, but you are Kyle's mother, am I
right?"

She turned around, and a frown appeared on her face for a few seconds
before recognition hit her.

"Oh! You're the nice man who took Shawn to hospital? Kyle, was it? I've
been meaning to look you up, god knows how, but to say thank you properly!
What are you doing here though?"

Uh oh. There was that classic motherly protective stance. She must be
thinking that I had followed them here. Or even worse, stalked them.

"I actually live here as well. Fifth floor. I wanted to check in on you
guys after the accident, but to be honest, I felt that it wasn't my place."

The woman scoffed.

"You are welcome anytime. I'm Susan, and you are? Just to make sure I got
your name right."

"Kyle indeed, nice to officially meet you," I said in return, before almost
thanking her for creating such a handsome young boy.

"Well, come up with me? I'm sure Shawn would like to see you! He can't
remember much from the accident but he knows about you. Being an out side
lover, he is of course bored as hell having a broken leg. Do you have
time?"

This is what I was afraid of.

I was a boy lover. A paedophile.

There was no other word for it.

Young Shawn was a sexy young kid. Really sexy. At twelve you wouldn't
expect to describe a young boy as "sexy" but there really wasn't any other
word in this instance.

As we got it at the third floor, I didn't know what to expect. I had only
seen him covered in rubble and blood. I had no business being here! My
god...

"Shawn! Someone to see you!" Susan called out and I immediately heard what
sounded like crutches coming down the corridor.

At last. There he was...Kyle, keep calm.

Jesus. He was...so, so perfect. A cheeky grin appeared on his unblemished
young face as he recognized me. He was...he was shirtless and his hair was
wet. Was he just coming out of the shower?

Keep calm, Kyle.

He had his trousers on, thank god, otherwise I might have fainted right
there in their living-room.

His youthful exuberance, his lust for life ...his cheeky smile and his
glowing blue eyes...this was too much.

I had to get outta there. I couldn't do this!

"Hey, Shawn! Glad to see you're doing okay. Listen, I have plans and I just
quickly wanted to see how you were. Take care yeah? And leave your dad's
bike alone!"

Susan smiled and looked at her son, knowingly, and Shawn himself blushed in
shyness.

"I learned my lesson, Mister..." he spoke for the first time, and I fucking
swear, it was like angels had fallen from the skies and had been
masquerading as the most beautiful boy I had ever seen.

The moment I felt a pulling in my own trousers, I knew I had to go.

"See ya again sometime!" Shawn called out after me as Susan smilingly
closed the door.

I walked towards the elevator in order to get to Level five. As fast as I
could.  My mind was all over the place.

This was danger . This was looking for trouble. This was everything I had
wanted to avoid. The sole reason why I had quit teaching where I had been.

Why I had to distance myself from boys like Shawn.

As the elevator closed up, I saw his shirtless body before me once more.

His boyish six pack, only just starting out. His eyes which had lit up when
he saw me. His beautiful smile and his voice...his little outie belly
button...and his wet blonde hair.

He was jailbait, I reiterated.

And that's where I would end up, if I couldn't control my emotions.

Somehow I knew I'd be thinking of Shawn all night long though.

My rock hard dick, could attest to that.

**

THANKS FOR READING!!

Kinda short, but I wanted to set the scene for the story.

Poor Kyle. When you're attracted to little boys, or girls, it's never easy
and one can't help it. It's just ...there.

Is he gonna keep his distance from Shawn though?

Lemme know, if I should write more xx

liciousryan@gmail.com