The following story is for adults and contains graphic descriptions of sexual contact between adolescent and adult males and the power imbalance of these relationships. Like so many of my stories, this is a voyage and return.
If you are a minor, then it is illegal for you to read this story. If you find the subject objectionable, then read no further. All the characters, events and settings are the product of my overactive imagination. I hope you like it and feel free to respond.
Fourteen runs through five progressions, with frequent interludes. If you would like to comment, contact me at email@example.com
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Patrick and John 2
Fourteen sits clutching his knees on the bench a second time with his forgotten shorts about his ankles binding his legs. It is as far away from freeky Patrick and furious John as he can get in the muddy back seat. Patrick has softly asked him to belt up three times. John checks the mirror. “Belt.” Fourteen’s face is set in stone, but he slides his legs down and finds the seatbelt. Trembling fingers run down bare thighs. Eyes measuring the men, he slowly draws up his shorts and gotch, covering himself. Belt buckle clicks. Fourteen left the bobcat flayed on the dented hood of the Bronco twenty miles back.
It started with questions. “Where are you taking me?” Fourteen asks inanely when he found the courage to sit up on the bench the first time. Air is flowing freely through his chest. Silence from the jock across the bench and less than that from the bricklayer behind the wheel. “Jeez, my parents don’t have any money.” He musters a little adolescent scorn, ignorant inbred drifters. The jackrabbit was squeaking, Shut up! desperately, Just shut up! Fourteen will not listen.
“Let me out.” Fourteen announces. “You don’t know what you are doing, do you? Is this just some joke?” The one question Fourteen will not ask is, What are you going to do with me? That question is a no fly zone in Fourteen’s mind. He lets the anger-pressure build, squeezing it into the hollows opening in his gut. A stray drink cup collapses under the pressure of his shoe. “You two are filthy. What a joke. I’m out of here, joke’s over, let me out by the light over there.” These men are not laughing.
“Settle down.” Patrick finally says. He sees the boy whipping himself up into a fury. It is the useless, pointless pride of the before. Fourteen screams something at him for no better reason than Patrick listens.
“Let me out., let me out, let me out of this fucking car. Stop the car, stop the car, just stop the car.” Fourteen doubles over, rocking out his misery in a comforting rhythm, hiding his head behind his arms as if it could all be banished.
Patrick is fascinated. The rocking, the slow grinding mantra of the hopelessly trapped. I see you. I hear you. I feel it too kid. You’re there on the brink of the after. I’ll be with you all the way through. Fourteen’s tangerine tee-shirt is drenched with fear. John has not outraced the rain. We’re driving East into the storm. Patrick realizes. John is racing though, hydroplaning on the flood, fleeing from the boy’s mundane before into the always ever after. An erotic curve slopes from the twin trails of neck fuzz down along the tangerine pregnant with boy musk, to the band of his shorts and beyond. There is a frailty to the shoulder blades that speaks to Patrick. His fingers settle on the boy’s neck.
Fourteen erupts. “I’m out of this fucked up car!” The Bronco is old, ready for the last mercy. When Fourteen reefs on the latch it flies out with a nudge. The boy goes with it toward the obsidian blacktop until Patrick yanks on tangerine. Fourteen comes back in, the wind at his back, fists flailing into Patrick. “Don’t touch me, don’t touch me,” then the familiar mantra, “Let me out, let me out, let me out.” It is a child’s plea now and Patrick drinks in ecstasy as he absorbs the blows.
The backseat drama has not gone unnoticed. As Fourteen flies out and in, John twists around. This starts a skid across the median. Grim faced, John turns the wheel and lets the momentum take them off the road down into flooded ditch. Water and mud surge around the wheel wells and crests against the open door deflecting onto the back seat floor. Bless the fussy midwestern farmers. John’s four wheel drive navigates the dark stream without meeting a rock. He guns the engine just enough to slip slide back up the grade and back onto the empty road.
Patrick has his seatbelt off now and Fourteen is half on top. Nothing changes till John steps into the road. Stripping his leather belt free as he goes, John stalks around to wildcat Fourteen. John pulls the hysterical boy off Patrick by his waistband. Then ice raged, John clamps a hand on tangerine, hauling Fourteen to the hood of the Bronco. The boy is a fish fighting the hook of John’s fist. He can’t pry loose and his toes dance to John’s rough tune. Patrick meets him in the glare of the headlights. “It’s okay.” Patrick’s anxious reassurance meets stone.
“Go to the tailgate.” John is ignoring Fourteen. His attention all on his partner. Patrick hesitates, eyes on the weakening struggle. Young fingers claw, muscles strain along his forearms, Patrick knows it’s useless effort, and so is deflecting John from what John must do. He nods wearily and walks the never ending rain to the Broncos tailgate. John is usually right and this will help ease the boy into the always after.
2 rows of ½” silver eyelet grommets on 3” of black leather, John’s pride. Patrick can hear the leather smack on wet cotton polyester blend. He can hear Fourteen too. The teen has not read the finished script. Brave boy thinks this is bad. Patrick stoops and through distorted glass sees Fourteen’s slender body slammed onto the hood of the Bronco. A few rude tugs and rain is spattering adolescent ass and slim thighs. Fourteen keeps floundering, but an elbow pins his head to the paint. This is Patrick’s insolent, innocent, exquisitely sensuous butterfly. The next smacks sound decidedly different to Patrick’s practiced ear, so does the boy’s cry. The young man looks up and down the lonely road, wondering if someone will come along. It’s just another spin of the roulette wheel. The ball falls here or there, in the meantime, Fourteen learns his lesson.
Body of Work
If you are here on the midway then you have come to the carnival seeking entertainment, company and of course excitement. There are a dazzling array of rides suited your every mood. There are gentle rides that conjure up soft memories of youth and rides that lift you from the dreariness of your grind and send you flying ageless through the night. There are also the side shows…
If you are here then you are in the house of mirrors captivated by the reflections around you. They are all curved in some way. Every mirror is imperfect and every mirror draws your attention to something new. The mirrors magnify or diminish parts of what we think is real. Sometimes you like what you see and sometimes you don't. Sometimes you believe what you see and sometimes you can't be sure what has been distorted. The distortions are intentional and we flatter ourselves into believing the mirrors only stand arrayed like this in such places as the midway. Before you go back to the mirrors of your life step closer to this one.
Eliot Moore, 2007
Here is a summary of the wide variety of other stories I have published.
Dark Thoughts Rising: This story was posted to Nifty in April 2017. Keegan Bressler (14) and his best friends Rey and Davon rape Keegan’s stepbrother Rowan Pense (12) during the course of a drunken party. The three boys embark on a desperate struggle to keep the shattered and confused Rowan from revealing their crime. As events unfold, Keegan and Davon fail to fight their inner demons. Rowan begins his own journey, hiding the truth from his closest friend, Hayden, until he reaches the breaking point.
Awakenings: This ghost story was posted to Nifty in November 2016. Middle aged divorcee Jake begins renovating a 1900’s Craftsman home in an old neighbourhood. He becomes entangled with Will, the 18-year old ghost of a Great War veteran and Chris, a 15-year old homeless addict on a desperate quest. As Jake’s failed life is rejuvenated by his love affair with Will, he slowly pieces together the hundred-year-old connection that has brought the three of them together.
For Your Eyes Only: This novella was posted to Nifty in November 2010. Simon meets Glyn and his younger brother James one August evening during a neighbourhood game. Simon and Glyn become fast friends but it is Simon's secret game with James Fleming that helps Simon accept his hidden self.
A Fragile Light: This story was posted to Nifty December, 2009. Graham (28) goes to the Christmas Eve service to be with his husband John. He is alienated from his deeply religious family and detached from the warmth of the service. He identifies a kindred spirit teenage Theo and learns they have more in common than he thought as Theo is joined by Jesse. Graham leaves strengthened by the encounter.
Janus: This story was posted to Nifty July 2009. Michael (18) is coaxed into attending a summer party by his older sister. He is college bound and uncertain about the choices he has made. At the party, his encounters with Lauren (19) and Scott (20) help him discover himself and make a decision about his future.
Hound: This story was first posted to Nifty the summer of 2008. The first draft was completed in 2005 and in truth I sat on it a long time before I decided to post it. Six-year-old Ethan Yates is abducted off the streets by a pedophile ring. Cast into a nightmare world he struggles to hold on to his identity. Isolated and confused, he clings to fourteen-year-old Peter. As the years pass their mutual need develops into an indestructible bond.
http://west.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/turbulence/ (first edition) and
http://www.dabeagle.com/storymainpages/turbulence.html (second edition)
Recovery: This story was first posted to Nifty in January 2007. Sixteen year old Greg Cox reluctantly joined his father in a small rural village in Saskatchewan. There his life becomes entwined with fourteen year old Seth Patterson. As he is slowly drawn closer to Seth he struggles with the memories and guilt associated with the loss of his mother, brother and sister while coming to terms with his promiscuity.