Date: Fri, 30 Nov 2012 20:19:06 -0800 (PST) From: Macout Mann Subject: ON MY HONOR 7 This story is about sexual activity between boy scouts and a scoutmaster. It is total fiction. There is no Poconola, MS. Any resemblance between persons or events depicted and actual persons or events is purely coincidental. If you are offended by depictions of explicit homosexual activity, or if you are underage, please do not read further. Otherwise, the author invites you to enjoy the story and to respond with comments or criticisms. The author would especially appreciate responses from readers who have been involved in scouting. All email will be answered. Please address macoutmann@yahoo.com. Also, please remember that nifty.org needs your support to keep this service available to all. Please donate what you can. "ON MY HONOR..." by Macout Mann Chapter 7 Aftermath "Well!" a snide Mrs. Masters chided after they left the courthouse, "I hope you've learned your lesson. You're damned lucky those boys were willing to lie for you." "Yes," Masters contritely replied, "I've learned my lesson," while saying to himself, "And next time I've got to be more careful." Actually, Masters had a bitterer lesson in the offing. The Winnona Council stripped him of his affiliation with the scouting movement. He was told its action was because of his violation of the merit counselor rule. The council was very sorry, and he should not feel that its action reflected on him in any way, but it felt that the rules must now be enforced to the letter. Manly, however, was now a junior assistant scoutmaster. He would soon be eighteen and could be promoted to assistant. He could continue to recruit suitable boys. The two of them continued to meet in the park. The brisk September breeze added to Manly's excitement as he bared his ass to receive Masters' hungry dick. He relished the feel of the older man's tongue lapping his anus, then his probing fingers, and finally the thrusts of his man-meat. They also plotted how they might maintain Masters' community of boy sex objects without drawing suspicion. They finally decided that the best course was to be quiet but open about it. Masters' interest in young men was well accepted; and since there had been no public issue raised when he was expelled from the scouts, there was no reason for people not to think that he had retired to let younger leaders have their turn, while continuing his interest in helping boys. As it happened the plot was advanced, when Masters was approached by a farmer interested in selling a sharecropper shack not far from the edge of town. It was set a-ways off the road, surrounded by trees and underbrush, and it contained two large rooms, a small bath, and a kitchen. Masters said that he might be interested in the property himself. He needed a place to store old records and stuff. A price was negotiated, and Masters quietly took possession. Manly reassembled the group, minus both Michael and Barry. Michael said he was quitting scouts and was into gals now. Actually, he and Sammy did get together from time to time, but the young Cajun thought the whole Masters thing was weird. Mr. Latimer worked for a discount chain, was being promoted and transferred, so Barry was moving. As for Sammy, he remained in the group, but like Michael, he had realized he was bi, if anything, and had found some girls at school that could satisfy him, except that they didn't give good head. The group first met at the shack in early October. For Masters it was like old times. Noah and his family continued to be the town pariahs. Even Sammy treated Noah like shit. Noah went to scout meetings a couple of times. They didn't throw him out, but even the new scoutmaster made him feel unwelcome. No one would sit next to him at school. Mrs. Lincoln was no longer called upon to assist in community endeavors. Few of his associates at NASA lived in Poconola or cared about the trial, so Lincoln was not bothered at work; but in Poconola even when he dropped clothes off at the cleaners, it was apparent that they'd rather not have his business. In time Noah did admit to his father that he had protected the other boys and that they had all fully participated in Masters' games. Noah hadn't expected them to come forward, but he was hurt that they had testified against him and lied on the witness stand. "Son, I'm sorry you didn't tell me," Dick Lincoln said. "I hope you've learned it's always best to tell the whole truth. If we'd known it might have made a difference, but around here, I doubt it." Noah's admission, however, caused Lincoln to pledge to himself that he would have Masters' ass, whatever it took. It was to become an obsession. He and his wife also concluded that it was a losing proposition to remain in Poconola. They would seek a more compatible place to live for Noah's sake. Manly tried to get Masters to let Jake's brothers join the group. Masters still insisted, however, that only scouts could join. That didn't stop Manly from heading to the Reynolds Farm and taking on the whole band of brothers. Also Jake became the star of the show, when Masters' group met at the shack. He had an insatiable appetite for dick and an apparently unlimited supply of cum. "Let me!" became his mantra. One night, as Masters watched, all the others first sucked Jake and then left a load of cum in the youngster's well used ass. Then Masters laughingly asked, "Are you up to taking `sloppy fifths?'" "Fuck yes!" Jake answered. "I love to wash my hard dick in boy cum," Masters said. He slipped his thick tool into Jake without so much as spitting on it. "How good does that feel?" he asked. "Wonderful," the boy panted. "Fuck me hard, Duane." "I will before I'm finished, but I want it to last." The other three boys were entranced, watching Master's face as the man relished every plunge in and out of Jake's ass. It was over ten minutes later that he began his final attack on the willing object of his desire. He pounded the boy's anus unmercifully as Jack responded with "Yes, yes, yes," to Masters' "fuck, fuck, fuck." After the older man dropped his load, they both rolled over on the floor completely sated. It was a wonder that Jake could even walk. And Masters? He had become much more uninhibited, even wanton, since being dismissed as scoutmaster. One evening after leaving work, Dick Lincoln drove to Gulfport to consult with a realtor about finding someplace other than Poconola to live. It was after dark before he left Gulfport, and as he was leaving, he spotted a kid standing at a street corner who looked familiar. He stopped the car and asked, "Hi son, don't you live in Poconola?" "Yes...sir," the boy hesitantly answered. "Well, I'm headed up that way. Can I give you a lift?" "No sir, I'm not ready to go home yet." He hesitated again and added, "Maybe I could give you some help. I really need to make some money." His hand lightly scraped his groin. Suddenly, everything clicked. The boy was hustling. Maybe he could be the solution to the Masters problem. "Hop in," Lincoln said. The boy slid into the passenger seat and again grabbed his crotch suggestively. "What all you into?" he asked. "Nothing right now," Lincoln responded. He extended his hand. "My name's Dick Lincoln." "You're not a cop, are ya?" Taken aback, the boy seemed near panic. "No, I'm no policeman," Lincoln replied, "and relax. I may be able to help you make some money, but not by having sex with me. But I guess I can't be against that sort of thing, at least not anymore. "What's your name?" "Ben. Ben Atkins." Lincoln took the boy's hand into his. Somehow, his touch seemed reassuring, although the boy was still freaked. "So how'd you wind up out on the streets like this, Ben?" Lincoln sounded like he really cared, so the boy decided to come clean. "My old man skipped out on me and Mom," he began. "She's been sick. Can't do a whole lot of work. She knows I'm gay, but she don't know I'm selling my dick and whatever else I can. But we need whatever money I can scrape up. And the hustlings a whole lot better down here. Lotsa tourists." "You ever hear of Noah Lincoln?" Lincoln asked. "Aint he the kid that accused that guy of raping him?" "That's the one," Lincoln replied, "and `that guy' did. I'm Noah's father, and I'm trying my best to prove that the jury was wrong when they wouldn't believe my son. I'll pay you, if you'll help me." Lincoln explained the situation to Ben in detail. What Masters special group of boys had really been doing. How Masters had been dismissed from the scouts but had somehow reconstituted his group. That he had to be back to his old tricks. That Lincoln thought a boy named Manly Simms was the key to the whole thing. "So how much do you make out here on an average night?" Lincoln asked. "Maybe forty bucks. Sixty on a good night. I got a hundred once. Sometimes nothing at all." "Understand," Lincoln announced, "I don't care about you being gay, and as far as I'm concerned, when you're not working for me, you can come down here and do whatever you want to. But if you'll work your way into Masters' group and keep me informed of what's happening and where it's going on, I'll give you forty dollars for every night you're involved, maybe more. I'm not rich, but I want that bastard in jail. And I'll tell you everything I can find out." "Deal," Ben responded. They shook on it, and Lincoln drove them back to Poconola and gave the boy a down payment. He didn't know if he was acting wisely or foolishly, but it seemed a chance worth taking. Copyright 2012 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.