TRAVELER
Chapter 61

by CARL DICKSON

Our hope is that every homosexual youth in this country can find a home and someone to love them as they are.
No one deserves to be discriminated against, no matter what their differences from society's norm
.

A tidy quote from chapter 137
"titles belong on books, not people" ©Carl Dickson—2007

Does your mother know you're reading this shit?

Warning: This story is PORNO. I have tried my hand at friction, now I'm trying fiction. This story contains vivid descriptions of sexual activity between men and teen boys.
It contains no truth, partial truth, or half truth. What it does contain is stroking material. If this kind of story turns you off, or offends you, please find something else.
The author does not encourage or condone sex between adults and underage children.

If you are underage, or if this is illegal where you are, then please go away. If you're under 18, Adios come back when it is legal for you to read this smut.
If you lied about your age in order to access this story, remember this is our story. Life doesn't always work out like a story.

A strongly worded suggestion has resulted in this statement.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either
are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitioiusly,
and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Thus said, this story is copyrighted, ©2005-2012. It is therefore illegal to copy or use any part of this story on any other web site without my written permission.


You may download the CHEROKEE TONT for free at this link. Dowload it, install it, then enjoy seeing the TSAIAGI names in this story. This font is included in the full version Send an e-mail for it.
    Friday morning, the fourth, all thirty five of us piled into seven six seater tourists carts, that the town used as taxis, bound for Plage de Tahiti—the widely talked about nudist beach. This beach was several miles south of our villa, not a comfortable ride in a glorified, motorized tri-cycle. We think that our roads are bad. Once you get off of the smooth cobble stone streets you really wish for an American road. I told the boys that they could start a useful service here by sitting up large cranes next to some of these potholes and lift people and their vehicles back up to the road level. I told them that another service would be to drop food and water down to those stranded in the bottom of some of those holes.
    The boys were told to stay in groups of four. Two could be overpowered and three would leave one without his squeeze. The boys paired up with the one they wanted to be with for the day then paired with another couple and ran off in ten different directions. Bryan stuck to me like glue. Toby stayed with us and therefore so did Kenny.
    It took some coaxing, but we got Kenny and Bryan to the water. Once in the surf they began to have fun. Both of the boys worry me. Cory worried me. He found a very scared and hungry boy by the name of Lester. He had been abandoned two days earlier by Fesell, Jacque, and Eion. Oops. I never thought of them having more boys somewhere. I fed young Lester as we got his story. He was worried about his friend, Lance Kelly.
    Cory came back with the rest of his group. He was with Jerry, Tim, and Christopher. Jerry heard the name Lance Kelly and he looked at Les. "Hey, you're Lester Tinsley. You live in Mobile." Les looked up and the older boy. His eyes brightened and he jumped up and threw his arms around Jerry's neck. "Did you say you were looking for Lance Kelly?" Les told him that Fesell had dropped them off Tuesday to work the beach and had not come back. When Lance saw Cory approach Les he ran and hid.
    "Spread out guys. We are looking for a five foot nothing kid with bright red hair and freckles from hell." Tim told them. They ran into other groups as they searched. A half an hour later a parade of boys led by one, I assumed to be Lance, sitting on Tim's shoulders came across the sand. Food was brought to the frail little waif as he guzzled two sodas in rapid succession. Bryan had been hidden in the crowd as we had been paying attention to these two. I turned to look for him and pulled him forward. He seemed shy as he came into view of the two new boys.
    "Bry, you don't have your chain on." This was the first animation I had seen out of Lance. He rose and threw himself at Bryan with a huge hug. Lester was in the middle of them in moments as old home week began.
    "Dad, I think I am going to be sick. Can we just go now." I looked up at Tim who had big tears streaming down his face. All of the boys were emotional over the scene before them and they all said that they wanted to leave. I sent the older boys, as a group to round up six of the taxis for our ride home. The three boys were huddled together as we made our way back up the highway and through town to our perch high on the hill.
    The first order of business was baths and wound dressing. We put the three boys into the large Roman style bath tub. They had plenty of help getting clean, but I said it loud and clear, no sex except a hand job until they have had a physical. All foreplay changed course at once, but the three boys were treated to a most sensual hand job; and massaged as many hands helped the process along. As the bath continued I learned that these two had also been kidnaped. They were riding out a sudden rain storm in Mobile a day or two after Hurricane Francis had moved through. Suddenly hands reached out of nowhere and grabbed them. They were bound and gagged, a hood dropped over their heads. They were put in a dark room and the next thing they knew they were wherever they were now.
    They don't remember anything except being taken and then waking up in Dimitri's house. They were beaten until they would suck cock and they were fucked several times a day by old and young men. They learned how to ask men for money for sex in some strange language. They did not speak enough of the language to buy food so being left on the beach they were getting by on sign language. They had spent the money they had made sucking a few men the first day on food and sodas. They were deathly afraid of Jacque and Eion. Fesell was the boss, but Eion loved to hurt the boys as did Jacque. Those two loved to find reasons to punish the boys and they knew that they would be killed for leaving the beach. I learned that at Dimitri's house were six or seven more boys.
    I took all three boys close to me as my boys gathered around. I told them that two days ago Cory and Christopher found Bryan being beaten by Dimitri. I told them that I put Dimitri under arrest and that I arrested the other three men as well. I told all of the boys that I was part of group of lawmen that was trying to shut down an international child slavery ring. I assured the boys that the men who kidnaped them would never touch them or any other boy, ever again. Lester got up on his knees and stared straight into my eyes and told me that the only reason that he was alive was that everyday and every night he swore that he would piss in Eion's face and kick him in the balls. I told him that I have known Eion since I was not much older than he was and I knew that Eion would like that.

    Lance lived next door to the Mark family in Mobile. Tim had known the boy all fo his life. Lance's best friend, Lester, lived at the end of the block. The two little guys had hero worshiped Tim since they were big enough to walk. I needed to get to Andy and get these boys papers to get them home at once.
    I sent all of the boys off to lay down for a bit. The excitement and the heat and humidity showed on all of their faces. I found a nice soft sofa and put my feet up with a tall glass of the fruit wine. I guess I should find out what it is called, but why? I guess I might want to find it when I get home, but for now I just wanted to run and hide somewhere.

    Andy came in. He was as white as a sheet as he made his way to me. He sat down next to me and leaned into me and began to cry. Carl and Tom Dickson were dead. This was not a joke or some trick to throw someone off of the trail. I called Base "A". Carl had gone back to Tucson after we left Base "B" for England. He and Tom had decided to go visit family and do some fishing. Eddy was going to fly in and meet them as soon as first quarter testing finished, giving him a five day break. Jeff and Mark could not get away. They were working on a project together and didn't want to stop until it was finished.
    The father and son set out in Carl Dickson's car about noon on Halloween. They went off of the road on U.S. highway 70, a few miles east of Ruidosa, New Mexico, Halloween night, October 30th. Westbound witness said that a west bound car had passed them at a high rate of speed and was weaving back and forth across the road. The witness came around a curve and saw the flames from Carl's car down in a deep ravine. They ran to help and heard the screams of the two men trapped inside the twisted wreck. The bodies were positively identified as Carl and his son, Tom,
    That did it. One of Andy's men walked through the room. I called him over, "Does your radio do a general broadcast." He told me it did. Only group leaders have the dual band radios. I asked to borrow it. He handed me the unit as he pulled the ear piece out to pass to me, which I refused. I took the radio and turned the knob, "This is Papa, code orange. I repeat, code orange. Time 15:07. Command, alert crew, ETA two point five. Papa out." I had the guard carry Andy to my room.
    The sounds of heavy boots running on the pavement came at me from every direction. Men came in and gathered everything that belonged to me and mine. The boys clothes were picked up and put in large plastic freight boxes. Their computers, books, pencils, everything. Cushions were raised and searched under. I went to the boys' rooms and called out, "Evacuation!" Heads popped out from everywhere. "Don jumpsuits. We're going home, now." A mixture of yeahs and ohhhs filled the halls as boys hurried to get ready.
    Andy's men moved into the rooms and began to pack the boys' gear. I told the boys to leave it and let the men do it we had a trip to make. I had two phones to my head and I was talking a mile a minute into each of them. One was the scrambler to Base B. The other was a local to Athos. I lined the boys up and counted heads, thirty six. I counted again, thirty six, thirty eight with Andy and me included. I made the boys pair up making Pete my second in command and the other five college age boys take one of the little ones or one of the three new boys and hold his hand and not let go under penalty of being fucked to death at dawn in a convent.
    Pulling up outside were ten police vehicles. I put four boys in each one as I counted heads. Andy was on his feet and he joined me in the rear vehicle as we roared down the hill, through town and up to the old abandoned, and well hidden bunker. The boys disembarked and I counted heads. "Boys, what you are about to see is going to be the most gruesome sight I hope that you will ever see. It is going to change your whole thought of me. I will probably loose most of you today, I can understand that. I want you to know what I have been fighting since we hit New York this last time.
    "Boys I love you all so much, but I will not stand for this and you are going to see a side of me that you will not like and never would have believed existed. You will probably get sick. If you do no problem, you have to know about this." Three more police cars screeched to a halt. Eight almost naked, bruised and battered boys climbed out of the cars. Bryan, Les, and Lance ran to them and hugged them. The new boys spoke virtually no English. There were three black boys from the streets of Paris. There were two boys from Cairo. A small Croatian boy and two from the new country of Georgia made up the balance of Dimitri's stable. I led the way into the cavernous bunker.
    Hanging by his chains, exactly as I had left him two days earlier, was Dimitri. Well not quite as I had left him. The smell of disinfectant was heavy on the air and everything and everyone was wet with a green colored water running off of it. Athos had just hosed the place down. I can imagine the stench that would have assailed my boys' nostrils if he hadn't. A new body hung in chains next to Dimitri. I let out a breath of heavy relief. Andy lit up and smiled at me.
    "You are the deeler in leetel boy whores. You take these boys to whore for you. you seek bastart. Ees mine son here who of you ees my son, flesh of my loins, son of my favorite wife? You keel de man Weller who steeel mine son so he be whore for you. Where boy you steeel from Weller?" I turned to Athos, he handed me a cattle prod shaped, fifty thousand volt Taser it had shit on the end. I looked at him and he smiled at me. I shoved the prod into Ibrahim's mouth and turned it on. He danced against his chains. The heavy lambs wool pads under the chains prevented his injuring himself.
    I looked at Jace. He stood with his mouth wide open. I pulled him forward and stepped aside as he hurled huge chunks all over his heretofore unknown biological father. "This is the man that would see Cullen and me dead. He offers five million dollars to anyone who will kill me." I pulled out my .357—I was carrying the Smith and Wesson, the FBI had my Colt because I had shot Weller with it—I held it out in the open palm of my hand. I even offered it to Athos who only grinned at me. "Sweeten the pot, there's another three quarter million for Cullen's head." I grabbed Cullen and pulled him next to me and put my arm around him while still holding out the pistol.
    Dimitri opened his mouth to say something. I stuck the barrel of the gun up his nose. He shut up. I looked at Les, Lance, and Bry. "Is there something that you want to do?" The three of them walked around the two men suspended in mid-air, then they walked over to the three men chained to the back wall. I signaled Athos, he loves his little toys, motors started to hum and the chains rattled. All three men were lifted by their ankles to hang upside down behind Dimitri and Ibrahim. Lance pulled his cock out and peed in Eion's face then he kicked him. He had on slip on sneaker style deck shoes. I shook my head. I handed him a ball bat. "This is a BALL bat, not face bat or bone bat." He got the idea and reared back for one mighty whack at the man's already bruised balls. What surprised me most was that none of my boys flinched, they all smiled.
    Bry followed suit as he pissed on Jacque and Les pissed on Fesell. Each boy took the bat and took their swing. "I turned and faced the boys and told them the story as I held Jace in front of me. I told them about the child slavery ring. I told them about the attack on the school. I told them about the contract on me. I told them that I wanted to stay and see these men enjoy their last few days on this side of the grass, but I had learned something an hour ago that made me want to go home and pull my blanket over my head and not look upon the world ever again.

    I put my arm around Andy. I had the ball bat in my hand and I pointed it at Ibrahim, "This big man here is so rich and so powerful. He thinks that he has the right to say who lives and who dies. He sent two men, who are on their way here with some of Andy's men, to kill Carl and Tom Dickson. The boys all drew back at that. They had a car equipped with a thick steel rod, with prods on it, sticking out from under the driver's side of their car, like something out of the Ben Hur movie They had laid a trap for our friends. There was one man in a car following Carl and Tom going east. The other man was going west. Carl and Tom drove around a blind curve with a steep drop off to the south side of the road. The car with the rod on it was in Carl's traffic lane when he came around a curve. The pod's tore Carl's front tire to shreds causing him to go over the edge of the road. The man in the car behind pulled up and threw a jar of gasoline down on top of the wrecked car—what you would call a Molotov cocktail. They murdered Carl and Tom on this man's orders.

    "Because we share the same last name they thought that they had the rest of my family. Carl was in New York providing security for our party last July. This worthless slug here," I smashed a ball bat into Ibrahim's abdomen, "had every bit of it wrong. He supposed that you boys came from Bradford Academy. He believes the school to be a training camp for boy prostitutes. He talks family, but he is a little like me in that he has a house full of naked boys. Unlike me he had these boys stolen off of the streets. He has five hundred miles of barren desert sand in any direction of his home. There is no chance for these naked boys to run away.
    "When those boys get too old to excite mr. hot pants here, he kills them. The stories are that he eats their genitals served up on a bed of rice with curry and fresh greens. That's the story. I am going to make him very uncomfortable now."
    I turned to Ibrahim, "Your house is no longer standing. As we speak, Andy, Athos, and I are listening to the reports coming in. It seems that your King has had his fill of you. His army raided your house two hours ago and destroyed it. All of your boys are being taken to secure locations as everything you own is being burned. Your money is gone. You have no friends, save those that are hanging around here with you. I want so much to kill you, ever so slowly, but I have my own moral code which I live by. My friend Athos will keep you hanging around until an international court can hear your case, in public. Make yourself comfortable because that should take a year or two.
    "Our people," I indicated Andy, "are hard at work to get your young victims into our custody so that they can testify against you. Actually it's more like, so that they can live. We want to return them home to their families."
    I picked up one of the big Tasers and laid it square across the head of Ibraihim's cock and turned it on. I will guarantee you that it hurt. Andy looked at the toys that Athos had laid out. We both really looked long and lovingly at the long, thin hat pins, but we thought better of it in front of the boys. He chose the twelve inch dildo with the full power Taser that I had ordered from him the first day. He shoved it up the bastard's ass and turned it on. "I need to go bury my daddy." He put his arm over my shoulder.
    "Hey, Bobby Gendarmerie, I love you old friend. I wish I could stay and play with you and your new playmates, but I have to get home. I do hope you play nice for a little while longer. There are two more of this bunch on a plane coming over to see their boss. Maybe they will all die very slowly together. I really had hoped to share some well placed turkey bones from my Thanksgiving dinner with these ass holes.
    "And whoever is responsible for bringing this one in," I indicated Ibrahim, "tell him I owe him." Tasers have been known to cause people to have a heart attack, I hope those men have strong hearts because Athos wants to play for few years or so.
    "It was my two men who took your boys home the other day. They hoped that they could see the boys again. But I understand you need to go, maybe you come again to see me, but not so many years should go by, my friend." We hugged each other. He agreed to help the eight new boys from Dimitri's house find their way home. As I turned to leave he told me, "There is the other one in the first room. She is no good for anything. She is full of opium."
    I pulled Frank and Branden to me, "Jace will hate me forever for what he just learned, now it is your turn." I opened a door to see a very pregnant blond woman of about thirty pacing the floor. When the boys saw her they looked at each other and then back at her.
    "Our mother?"
    "Everett Rothsfeld's sister, your mother."
    "Who's our fathers."
    "Father, one, Howard P. Hildebrand. Frank knows him as Uncle Howie. He has been Everett Rothsfeld's, Frank's dad's, homosexual lover since high school."
    "Will she die? I want her to die. I don't want her to ever find me and try to be my mom. I want her and Howie to die." Branden cried as Frank wrapped his arms around his little brother.
    "We have a new dad and a new home, a new life with lots of brothers. Forget about her and let's go home," Jace told them. The boys put their hands on me and pushed me outside. The police cars were waiting for us. Cory spotted the two young cops who took him and Christopher home. He pointed them out, I had to shake their hands. I asked if they were to drive or ride. They were riding as armed guards. I let Cory ride by himself with one of the two in the backseat of one car and Christopher took the other in another car. I told the men how much their work meant to me as the rest of us just packed in a little tighter.
    Claxons and blue lights and something that sounded very much like an American siren cleared the roadway as our motorcade sped through the country side to the airport where our airplane sat inside a heavily guarded and closed hanger. Two very wobble kneed, disheveled police officers received deep kisses from two of my very extra special boys. They both walked with the all too familiar wide legged stance as they came up to say goodbye.
    I looked at the plane. Even in the dim light of the closed hanger I could see that Andy had made some changes. The paint job was now a high gloss deep ebony black paint that had a depth to it that made you feel as if you were looking into a very deep inky black surface. Our logo, fŗĩęñďş Çłųß in gold leaf and painted five feet high, was an exact copy of the letter head I had designed for the non-profit organization. We quickly moved into our newly reupholstered seats in our plane and took off for the good old U.S. of A. The newly remodeled plane had a larger galley and several seating areas where the boys could face each other to play board games together on the long flight home. Their big interest was a stack of new DVDs movies that had come out while we were traveling. Alongside of those was an even larger stack of new video games.

So there you have it. Is your friction enhanced by my fiction?
Tell me about it at fisherman@iname.com
PREVIOUS    HOME    NEXT

50% of all donations go to NIFTY
to support their fine work.