The following is fiction.   It contains some scenes involving gay sex.  If reading such material is against the law, please do not read this story. 

I have been enormously gratified by my readers’ response to my first two stories, 8th Grade and Prom.  Your comments to me have been exceedingly generous and deeply appreciated. 

I have had several requests asking for the location of my two previous stories. They can be found as follows:

8^th Grade: Nifty Archives, Gay Male, Young Friends, April 1, 2005

Prom: Nifty Archives, Gay Male, High School, May 15, 2005

 What explicit sex is included in this story is intended to further the story; I do not write gratuitous sex scenes.  The story is not principally about sex, and if your objective is to read about sexual activity, you will find this story disappointing and uninteresting in the extreme.

 Those of you that have read my first two stories know that I like writing romantic tales of young teens learning who they are.  This story has a somewhat darker and more troubling theme, and may have a message that is objectionable to some.   I think the majority of you will enjoy it, but I’ve been known to be wrong in the past. Please be forewarned.

    This story is copyrighted by the author.  His permission must be secured before any copying or use of this story is permitted.

              I love hearing from readers.  It’s the reward I get for writing these stories.  Any comments will reach me at colepark@gmail.com

T   I   M

by

Cole Parker

Chapter 21

My father spoke to him, trying to reassure him why we were here, and to prepare him for what was coming.

“Well, Shawn, it’s a little embarrassing, but I was reading an article a couple days ago about testicular cancer, and it said all males need to be checked regularly after going through puberty, and I realized I haven’t been checked in years and neither of you guys have been checked at all. So I made an appointment. We’re all three going to be checked.”

I protested, as we’d agreed I would. “Dad, you don’t mean I’m supposed to get naked in front of you guys, do you? That the doctor is going to feel my balls? No way!  Un ungh! I don’t want you guys looking at me down there, either!”

“Come on, Tim, we’re going to do it, you can too. Let’s show him, Shawn. And in any case, we’re not getting naked, just dropping our pants. It isn’t that bad. You do it after gym at school. Hey, Shawn, let’s show Tim we’re not wimps. Let’s get ready.”

With that, Dad started unbuckling, and surprisingly, Shawn, looking confused but compliant, began doing the same thing. Staying with our program, I grumbled a bit more, then sort of began removing my belt.

Dad and Shawn had their pants off and were just wearing their boxers when the doctor knocked and opened the door. “Hi, Dr. Monroe,” my dad said cheerfully. “Glad you could take us all on short notice. But as I told you on the phone I was worried about testicular cancer, and this will relieve my mind. I’ll go first if you want.” And with that, he dropped his boxers.

This was the first time I’d seen my father exposed since I was probably five. I was immediately both curious and embarrassed. I was also hoping I didn’t have to do the same thing. The way we’d planned this, I probably wouldn’t.

The doctor put on some latex gloves and sat down on a stool with my father in front of him. He reached out and began handling my father’s balls. I wanted to look away, but was so fascinated by what was happening I couldn’t. The doctor felt up one ball pretty thoroughly, my father squirming just a little, then moved to the other. After a bit, he said, “I don’t feel any problems here. Everything’s fine. But Sam, while I have you here, when did you have your last prostate exam?”

Dad looked at him and said, “Gee, I don’t remember.”

“Well, let’s just do that, too. It’ll only take a second. Say, do you want the boy’s tested, too, while you’re all here? Save you the cost of separate exams, if you want to.”

Dad leaned over the end of the examining table, his boxers around his ankles, and said, “Hey, good idea. Thanks. We’ll take you up on that.”

The doctor spread some lubricating jelly on his gloved finger, then leaned over dad and inserted his finger. Dad made a couple soft grunts, then the doctor pulled out and said, “Feels fine, Sam. OK, you can get dressed. Let’s do Shawn next.” He quickly disposed of his gloves, washed up and put on a new pair.

Shawn was still standing with his boxers on and seemed to be thinking of something else, not entirely with us. Dad said to him, “Shawn, time for you. Drop your boxers and Dr. Monroe will be done in a couple seconds.”

Seemingly in slow motion, Shawn slid his boxers down, exposing himself to everyone. He was pretty well built, a lot better than I was. Dr. Monroe started his testicle exam, and as I watched, I saw Shawn’s cock start to inflate. My eyes grew big watching. I quickly looked up at Shawn’s face. He had a vague look in his eyes, and a smile was starting to form on his lips.

“OK, all done, Shawn,” said Dr. Monroe a couple minutes later. “Let’s get the prostate exam done and then we’ll do Tim next. Can you lean against the table like your dad did?”

At this point, Shawn was more than half hard, and he didn’t even seem to notice it. He took two steps to the table and leaned over it, exposing his ass. The doctor stepped behind him, but instead of inserting a finger, he carefully spread Shawn’s cheeks and looked at his anus. My father was right behind him, looking too.

The doctor just looked for a moment, then greased his finger and felt around his anus a few moments before pushing inside. When he did, Shawn made a strange gargling sound and pushed back against the finger. I became embarrassed and looked away. What should have been a somewhat embarrassing medical test appeared to be having a different effect on Shawn.

That’s when the doctor spoke. “It’s exactly as you expected, I’m afraid, Sam. Definite. I can’t speak as to cause, but the muscular degeneration, the deformation, it’s there, consistent with your expectations, and by the looks and feel of it, this is nothing recent, but chronic. As of right now, my hands are tied, as we discussed. Sorry, Sam. I’m going to have to call the police, and none of you should leave.”

“That’s all right, Doctor. That’s actually what I want you to do. We have to get this stopped, and this seems about the only way.”

The doctor patted Shawn on the shoulder and said, “OK, Shawn. You can get dressed now.” He handed him a paper towel to clean the lube off as he’d done for Dad. Shawn used it, turning around while doing so, not apparently a bit shy about displaying his erection to us. He seemed oblivious to it. No one else remarked on it. I didn’t either. I wondered if they were as embarrassed as I was. Then I realized they were concerned about more important things, and felt a little embarrassed with myself over my childishness.

The doctor gave another look to Dad, who was looking sad. Then he left the room. Shawn looked at Dad, then asked, “What about Tim? Isn’t he going to be tested?”

“Shawn, we have more important things than that now. The doctor just confirmed you’ve been having anal sex. Your anus is stretched and shows signs of long-term, repeated sexual activity. There’s no question about it now, Shawn. You can talk to us about it and we can help, but eventually you’re going to have to talk to the police, too. And Reverend Ellison will be arrested.”

Shawn turned white. I couldn’t believe anyone could lose his color so quickly. But he just stood there, his pants half up, half down, and turned white. Then he made a strange sort of half moan, half wail from deep in his throat.

Dad was with him immediately and put his arms around him. Shawn seemed to wilt, just collapse in his arms. Dad held him and spoke softly in his ear, so softly I couldn’t make out what he was saying. They stood like that a couple minutes, and then Dad said, “Can you go get the doctor, Tim? Shawn might not be in the best shape right now to talk to the police.”

I found the doctor outside talking to his nurse, and told him Shawn had collapsed. He immediately came back to the examining room. He took Shawn’s vital signs, then tried talking to him, but Shawn was unresponsive.

“Sam, there’s nothing physically wrong with him. I think he just needs to rest while he gets his mind cleared. He’s had a shock, but he shows no signs of catatonia or anything like that. My medical opinion is he needs a good night’s sleep, and he surely won’t get that if he has to undergo a police interrogation and then a hospital check-up. As he’s not here because of a rape today or that sort of emergency, there’s no urgency about the police checkup and tomorrow will work as well as tonight, given his mental state. Take him home and give him some TLC. I’ll report this to the police tomorrow morning. They’ll want to talk to him tomorrow at some point.”

Dad thanked the doctor, and we returned to the car, Dad and I both holding one of Shawn’s arms, though he didn’t need to be carried.

By the time we’d arrived home, Shawn was no longer pale, and though he wasn’t speaking to us, his eyes seemed alert.

We went into the house, no longer having to support Shawn. I wasn’t prepared for what happened then.

Mom was sitting in the living room when we walked in. Shawn, seeing her, ran to her and knelt on the floor next to the chair she was sitting in. By the time he had reached her, he was shaking.

“Mom, they’re going to arrest Reverend Ellison,” he screamed, then threw his head into her lap and started sobbing.

Mom looked up at Dad and me in horror. “What! Reverend Ellison will be arrested. Sam, what’s Shawn talking about? What’s going on?”

Dad looked upset. This was too abrupt. He had probably been thinking how to tell Mom about all this, but he certainly hadn’t considered just jumping into the fire with no preparation.

“Marge, I guess the best way is just to tell you the facts. I tried to talk to you about his yesterday, to get your support to help Shawn. You wanted no part of it and seemed to be in denial to me. Shawn wouldn’t talk, so I took him to the doctor today, and he was examined. The doctor verified he’s been having anal sex for some time now. Shawn implied to Tim yesterday that he’d been having sex with Reverend Ellison. I don’t think there’s any question that’s who’s been doing it, given Shawn’s refusal to talk about it, and his continued statement that Reverend Ellison insists he not talk about their activities. Anyway, the police will question Shawn tomorrow, probably have the examination repeated, in fact I’ll insist on that, and if they can get Shawn to talk, I’m sure they’ll arrest the Reverend for molesting a minor. If Shawn won’t verify who did this, I still think with my statement to them about how Shawn spends the bulk of his time with Reverend Ellison and that they have private sessions that Shawn is not to talk about, the police will investigate the Reverend Ellison, both present and past.”

Mom just started at Dad for a second. She seemed oblivious she had a sobbing boy’s head in her lap. Then anger crept into her face. Her eyes got hostile and her face reddened.

“Damn you, Sam!” she shouted. She jumped out of her chair, knocking Shawn aside. “Damn you, how can you do this? Reverend Ellison is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He’s given me Jesus, he’s given me salvation. I’m going to be one of the ones who sees God on his Great White Throne, one of the ones to enjoy eternal life in heaven. You’ll be burning in the fiery lake for all eternity for your sinfulness and for not taking Jesus into your heart. Damn you for this, Sam! Damn you!”

I just stared at her. I thought she’d lost her mind. She’d never spoken like that before, and she didn’t sound like my mother. She sounded like someone who’d completely lost her marbles.

She was looking at Dad with hatred in her eyes, and contempt, too. There was a drinking glass on the table next to her, along with the book she’d been reading. She saw the glass, picked it up and, shouting, “Get out of here, Sam! Get out,” she hurled it at him. He dodged it, and then the book as that came next. She was looking around for something else when he said to me, “Tim, I’m going to go for a quick walk to let her cool down. Stay with her and make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.” With that, he made it to the front door and left.

When he was gone, my mother almost immediately went to Shawn, who had stopped sobbing but still appeared shaken and pale. She leaned over him, hugged him to her, and started talking softly to him. I didn’t know what to do. My stomach was churning and I felt a lot of emotion roiling around inside me. I was frightened. Everything had exploded all at once, and I hadn’t been ready for that. The display of anger in the room had upset me; I’d never witnessed abrupt violent anger like that before, and it was my mother who was doing it. I needed to get away from there. I decided to escape to my room.

I had reached the bottom of the stairway when Mom looked up at me. “Where are you going?” she asked, steel in her tone, some of her former anger still evident in her voice.

“I’m going up to my room. I have homework.”

“You come back and sit down. We have some talking to do.” She glared at me, then turned back to Shawn and her entire body softened. She again spoke softly to him, saying words I couldn't hear, then stood back up moved over so she was standing in front of me.

She looked at me, a very stern look on her face, and held that for a long time. The she said, “Is what your father said true? Did Shawn really say any of that happened, or are you making it up? You weren’t getting enough attention, so you wanted more, didn’t you? So you made up nasty, dirty things, didn’t you?”

“Mom. . .” I began, but she cut me off as soon as she heard the defensive note in my voice.

“No, Tim, no! I won’t allow someone to say things like that about Reverend Ellison and my fine son. That is wicked and sinful behavior. You will not do that. Now we three are going to pray for your soul. We will pray, and then you will admit you made this up, that none of this was true. We will join hands. Give me your right hand and Shawn your left hand. Shawn, give me your left hand.”

This was awful! My mother didn’t seem entirely sane to me. I didn’t want to do this, this praying stuff. I didn’t want any part of it. I hadn’t told any lies, and praying wasn’t going to change my story, or the facts. But Dad had left, I was only 15, and my mother was giving me an order in an uncompromising manner. What could I do? Slowly, reluctantly, I reached my arms out, and Shawn came over to take one hand, my mother the other.

They both grasped a hand, then both looked down, and my mother began. “God, please forgive the child, for he knows not what he does. He did an evil, foul thing, for which he prays forgiveness. He dirtied his soul with horrible lies, he is a wicked and sinful and despicable child who needs your help to find grace and understanding. Oh Lord, please end his evil ways and evil thoughts and make him righteous unto you. This disgusting child needs your help, Oh Lord. Please bring him to your fold. We pray this in your name, Lord. Please, Jesus, save this child from his sinful ways.”

About half way through this prayer, I’d slowly begun to raise my head to look at first her, then Shawn. Both of them had bowed heads and closed eyes and both looked pious. All I could feel was shock. All I could think was, this is a prayer? Talking to God about how awful I was, that was praying? Telling God I was disgusting, that was supposed to be helping somehow? And then I thought, how can my mother be thinking I’m this terrible creature? I wasn’t an awful boy. I was a normal boy, who acted as any normal boy did. If any sinning was being done, it was being done by her precious Reverend!

When my mother finally finished and raised her eyes to mine, she immediately frowned. “Did you even bow your head for the prayer? Are you so disgusting you don’t even know when words are being spoken to God you must bow your head in humility and reverence? How dare you?!”

I began shaking. It was from too much emotion, too much anger, fear, disillusionment and a feeling nothing would ever be the same again. It was as though one life was ended, one was now beginning, and I didn’t know the rules of this one.

Slowly, I stood up.

“Sit right back down. We’re not done here, not by a long shot. Sit down!” She was screaming now and her face was again bright red.

I looked at her, then turned and started walking toward the stairway. The only rational thought I had was, I had to lie down in my bed. Maybe things would make sense then. Maybe my body would stop shaking. Maybe this was a dream that I would wake up from if I were lying in my bed. I couldn’t take any more of this right now. Whatever happened, right this moment, I had to leave that room.

I was walking away when I felt a hand grab my arm. I turned, and Shawn was holding on to me. His face was blank, not showing any emotion at all. But his voice had some inner passion when he spoke. “You had no right to tell anyone about me and Reverend Ellison. You had no right. You must never tell anyone. You’ll get Reverend Ellison in trouble, and he’s good. What we do is good. And you’re bad. You have sex with boys. You do it with Jed. I heard people say you do it, and yes, I do believe it. What you do is a sin, what I do makes me holy. You will not get Reverend Ellison in trouble for it. I won’t let you. He is good. And you have to do what your mother tells you to do. The Bible says you must obey your parents. Your mother told you to sit down. Now do it. Go back and sit down.”

I yanked my arm out of his grip, but he was bigger and stronger than I was. He grabbed me again, hostility and some inner light showing in his eyes. “I won’t let you get Reverend Ellison arrested. He can’t be arrested. He can’t be taken away from me. I need him,” he shouted. This time, my scattered and roiling thoughts boiled over. Emotions I’d never felt before were overwhelming me. I think I went completely crazy. I heard a disconnected voice suddenly scream, and in the back of my head, I knew it was mine. I made a fist and swung as hard as I could at him, striking out at him as well as I don’t know what else.

He wasn’t expecting any sort of response like this, his thoughts were directed towards himself, not me, and he didn’t have time to even put up a hand to ward off my blow. My fist connected solidly and hit him hard, flush on the nose, with all my weight and fury behind it.

At first I was pretty sure I’d killed him, the way he fell to the floor with blood was all over his face. His moan changed my mind, and his hands suddenly moving to cover his face did too. Then I heard a scream and saw my mother was running to him.

That was when I turned and ran.