Date: Wed, 16 Jan 2008 07:04:29 -0800 (PST)
From: Toby Tyler <tobyt_yler@yahoo.com>
Subject: Poor Little Shit Boy Chapter 1 (Revised)

Poor Little Shit Boy

By

Toby Tyler

(MBb, incest, oral, anal, piss, scat, a little blood, bd, submission)

The story is completely fiction. If you are not 18 or if it is illegal for
you to read it, then you will probably be struck blind, which is why you
shouldn't be reading it in the first place. If you enjoyed my story, you
can check out some of my other stories on Nifty: Seventh Grade Foot Slave,
Fucked-Up Kid, Brother Sucker and Urinal Boy. I'd love to hear from my
readers. You can email me at Tobyt_yler@yahoo.com, and please remember to
mention the title of the story in the subject line.

In this story, we're going to take things slowly and get to know our little
shit boys a bit before we get to the action, so you can keep your dick in
your pants for the first chapter or two. But as the readers of Seventh
Grade Foot Slave can attest to, your patience will be rewarded.

Those of you who've read Fucked-Up Kid will note that Donovan makes a few
appearances here and there in this story.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have received a number of comments from readers regarding
Cody's nosepicking video in Chapter 1 and feel that an explanation is in
order. The nosepicking video is the only scene in this story that will
involve any sort of blood or self-mutilation.

The descriptions of Cody's videos are intended to be a parody of
contemporary art, particularly the type of art that is coming out of the
`new genres' or `new media' departments of art schools around the world
these days.

I myself attended an art and design college where it was fairly common for
the school administrators to have to step in when a student's project was
deemed too controversial/offensive/dangerous or just plain stupid to be
allowed to continue. After one of these projects would be `shut down' by
the administrators, the students and teachers would spend months debating
whether the student's `right to free expression' had been infringed upon or
whether the student had `gone too far'.

The humor of the passage was probably lost on people who either do not
regularly attend art galleries in New York and Los Angeles or didn't have
to suffer through watching their classmates disturbing `video art' projects
in college. I thought it was quite humorous to have a young boy in my story
who would actually admire and emulate this type of artist.


Poor Little Shit Boy

Chapter 1

The Underwood family was in serious financial trouble. They had not been
very careful with their money, and now they were paying the price. Their
credit cards were almost maxed-out, they were falling behind on their car
and mortgage payments. Mr. Underwood had just been laid off from his job as
a purchasing agent for a medical supply company.  Mrs. Underwood was a
dental assistant, and the family could not afford to live on her salary and
Mr. Underwood's unemployment check.

And then there was their 11 year old son, Noah.  Since the Underwoods had
decided that they wanted their little boy to associate with `a better class
of people', the Underwoods had Noah taken out of public school and enrolled
him in The Light School, a very prestigious `progressive' academy in nearby
Cadenville. Tuition was $27,000 a year. They were faced with the decision
of either taking Noah out of The Light School, or taking out even more
loans that they might never be able to pay back.

But soon their financial troubles would come to an end. They would have
never imagined that all their debts would be paid by renting out their
young son out as a toilet slave to the town's wealthiest man, Harold Muck.

In fact, they never actually knew what really happened. The wealthy man's
contract simply stated that all their debts would be paid in exchange for
"allowing Noah Underwood to serve as a live-in companion and playmate to my
son Cody Muck until the age of eighteen." Mr. and Mrs. Underwood willingly
signed the contract, packed Noah's things and shipped him over to serve
Harold and Cody Muck. This is the story of how it happened.

***

Poor little Noah had a hard time making friends at The Light School. He
could tell that most of his classmates came from families that were far
wealthier than his, and he felt very intimidated by them.

But Noah wasn't completely a loner. At lunch he sat at a table with a bunch
of his fellow sixth graders. He didn't really like them, but he seemed to
get along with them well enough.

It was while he was at school that Noah began to realize that he was
starting to have some special feelings for some of the other boys around
him. For one boy in particular.

Noah was sitting in the cafeteria with his friends when he spotted the boy
getting in line with his tray. Nice, straight brown hair, neatly
trimmed. Jeans and a cream-colored turtleneck sweater (there was no dress
code at The Light School). A little short for his age. Beautiful green
eyes. A few freckles. A mischievous smile.

Noah elbowed his friend Ralph and pointed to the boy. "Who's that?"

"That's Cody Muck. Why ya wanna know, ya got a crush on him?"

"No!"

The other guys laughed.

Noah turned red. "I do not!" he insisted.

The other boys thought that was hilarious. "Noah loves Cody! Noah loves
Cody! Noah loves Cody!"

"Shut up! Shut up!" Noah whined.  "I just wanted to know who he was. He
seemed, I don't know, cool, I guess."

"Yeah, right!" Ralph giggled. "We all know you got the hots for Cody Muck!"

"I'm warning you, Noah. You better stay away from Cody!" his friend Diego
added. "I'm serious."

"Why? What's wrong with him?"

Diego made a cross with his two index fingers. "Stay away from Cody, Noah!
He's evil! Evil and crazy!" Diego took his index finger made the `crazy'
gesture: pointing it to the side of his head and whirling it
around. "Loco!" he added, with emphasis.

"See that older kid he's talking to over there? That ninth grader?" Ralph
added.

"The one with the long blond hair who looks like a skater?"

"Yeah. He's not a skater, though. More of a druggie. That's Donovan Ten
Eyck. Real fucked-up kid. Those two are always hanging around
together. They're both real bad news." Then Ralph lowered his voice and
whispered, "Donovan's a dealer."

"A dealer?" Noah was stunned. He didn't expect there to be drug dealers at
The Light School. "What does he sell?"

"Pot, pills, acid, `shrooms, coke, x, k and stuff you aint never even heard
of! Those two may look innocent, but I hear they're both into some real
fucked-up shit. They're not the kind of guys you want to be hanging around
with."

Noah's interest was piqued. He wanted to know more about Cody and
Donovan. But all he heard were silly rumors: that they were into the
occult, that they went on crazy drug binges, that they were having sex with
their teachers, and even that they were closet drag queens. Noah didn't
believe any of it. He wanted to know the truth.

Noah was very shy, and he was always trying to think of some way he could
break the ice with Cody. Noah was waiting for a chance to talk to Cody
alone. But Cody was always with Donovan.

One day at lunch Noah spotted Cody sitting at a table all by himself,
looking very unhappy. Now's my chance, thought Noah. Donovan's not around!
Nervously Noah carried his tray over to Cody's table.

"Mind if I sit here?"

"Go ahead." Cody looked pleased to have some company. "Sit down. What's
your name?"

"Noah. What's yours?" Of course, Noah new exactly what the boy's name
was. He had been secretly watching Cody for weeks. But he wasn't going to
let Cody know that.

"Cody Muck. The name suits me. I'm feeling very mucky today."

Noah noticed that Cody didn't seem to be very hungry. He had been fiddling
with his mashed potatoes, shaping the mound into a mountain with his
fork. It made Noah think of the movie Close Encounters of the Third Kind,
which he had just seen on cable.

"Where's your friend? That older guy I always see you sitting with?"

"We're not talking anymore."

"Oh." Noah was feeling awkward, and didn't quite know what to say. "Well,
you can talk to me if you like."

"Okay. What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know. Got any hobbies?"

Cody instantly brightened up. Noah knew that once he got the boy talking
about some of his interests, the conversation would start to flow much
easier.

"Yeah. I like art. Modern art. I'm an artist."

Noah smiled. "I like art, too. I got a Salvador Dali poster in my bedroom!"

"I like my art a little more modern than that. My dad's a serious art
collector, so I've been to a lot of galleries in New York and know all
about modern art. And I make art, too."

Noah was pleased with the way the conversation was going. Making new
friends wasn't so hard! And maybe Cody wasn't so weird after all! Gee,
talking to a cute boy is easier than I thought, he said to himself. "I'd
love to see some of your paintings sometime," he told Cody.

"I'm not a painter. I make videos. I'm a video artist." There was an
excited sparkle in Cody's stunning green eyes as he said that.

"Oh cool!"

"Right now my idol is Paul McCarthy. I think he's absolutely brilliant!"
Cody was starting to get more animated now that he was on his favorite
subject.

"I like Paul McCartney, too," Noah agreed, "but I like John Lennon even
better."

"Not Paul McCartney, silly! Paul McCARTHY!" Cody laughed.

"Oh." Noah was embarrassed to admit that he didn't know who that particular
artist was. "So, you got any videos on Youtube?" he asked.

"I refuse to put my work on Youtube. If you want to see my videos, come
over to my house and I'll show `em to you. Private screening."

***

Noah was pulling his bike out of the garage when his mom cornered him. "So
Noah," she asked. "Who is this new friend of yours you're going to see?"

"Cody. From school. He's gonna show me his art."

"And he lives over in Cadenville? You sure you don't want a ride?"

"That's okay, Mom. The weather's nice. I want to ride my bike."

"Before you go, I want you to give me your friend's address and phone. Just
in case."

"Oh, Mom! I'll be allright." Noah pulled a scrap of paper out of his
pocket. "1300 Morning Glory Lane."

Mrs. Underwood perked up when she heard the very exclusive address. "Wait a
second. What's this boy's name again? Cody what?"

"Cody Muck."

Joan Underwood was stunned. "Hal! Come out here!"

Hal sauntered over to the front door. "What?" he asked.

"Hal, guess who our little Noah is having a play date with?"

"Who?"

"The son of Harold Muck!"

"You're kidding!"

"What's the big deal?" Noah asked. "Who's Harold Muck?"

"Ever heard of Muck Neotech," Hal said. "You know, Noah, that big chemical
plant we pass by on the way to your allergist?"

"Oh."

"Hal, why don't you give Noah your resume to give to Mr. Muck? It can't
hurt."

"Mom! I'm not bringing Dad's resume over! That's embarrassing! That'll make
us seem desperate!"

"Forget it, Noah. Go have a good time with your new friend."

***

"Come in, Noah. Dad's in Bangkok this week. We got the house to ourselves."

Noah looked around nonchalantly, trying not to act too impressed with the
lavish modern home. To Noah, it was a mansion, but to Cody, it was the
smallest and ugliest of the five houses his father owned.

Noah inspected a large painting on a circular canvas in the hallway. It
looked like the spin-art painting he once made at the school craft
fair. "That's a cool painting," he said, appreciatively.

"It's a Damian Hirst," Cody explained proudly. "Dad's got three of
them. The other two are in the Hamptons. Let's go to my room. You wanna see
my videos, right?"

"Yeah."

Cody's room was also very impressive. Lots of toys, art books, video games,
video equipment, a king-sized bed all to himself, and a 60 inch
wall-mounted plasma TV. Noah also noticed that Cody had a strange kind of
chair in the corner near the closet. It was a chair made out of a toilet
seat.

"Hey Cody, that's a pretty funny-looking chair!" Noah laughed.

Cody shrugged. "Oh, that's a rimseat."

"Whaddya use that for?"

"Toilet training."

"Oh." Noah decided not to ask any more questions about the funny chair. It
struck Noah as odd that an 11 year old boy would still need to be
toilet-trained.  He figured that it might be some sort of medical
apparatus, and that maybe Cody had some sort of medical condition that
required him to use the chair. It was probably a very personal problem, and
Noah could understand why Cody might not want to talk about it.

Cody connected a laptop to the plasma TV. He seemed to be having technical
difficulties. "Hmm," he mumbled. "No signal. `Does not recognize the output
device.' Damn! Let me try something else. Oh, here we go." Cody climbed
onto the bed and put the laptop down. "C'mon, Noah, hop on the bed. Next to
me. Get comfy. It's showtime."

Noah watched the big TV screen as Cody navigated through some files. He
clicked on a file titled cody_drops_dead.mpg. The video started to play.

The video showed Cody in a karaoke setup with a large helium balloon. The
music came on. Cody inhaled the helium and started to sing "My Boy
Lollipop" in a helium-infused chipmunk voice. He was acting really goofy in
the video and he was fondling the balloon in a sexy way.

To Noah's disappointment, Cody closed the video after a few seconds. "Sorry
about that. I didn't mean to show you that one. It's not finished yet."

Noah was perplexed. It was weird to see Cody in the video singing that
girlish song and acting like a little sissy boy. Noah wondered about the
choice of song. It was a strange song for a boy to sing. Was Cody just
kidding around, or was he hinting at something?

"Okay, here's one I want you to see." Cody clicked on a file titled
cody_tanning_salon.mpg.

The title faded in; it read: Barbie Gets A Tan. The camera had been set on
a tripod and was focused on Cody standing behind a small table. In the
video, Cody's hair was spiked with lots of gel he wore dark sunglasses and
a gaudy Hawaiian shirt. He looked like a silly tourist. There was a toaster
oven on the table and he had a Barbie doll in his hand.

On the video, Cody was very animated. "Hey there, guys and dolls, have I
got something special for you!" He was really hamming it up again. "Today
Barbie gets to go to the tanning salon! Yay for Barbie!"

Noah thought the video was funny. On the video, Cody was a real
comedian. It made Noah laugh. Cody seemed pleased that his friend was
enjoying myself. Throughout video, Cody's comedic monologue continued.

"Say Barbie, you don't want to get any tan lines, do you?" Then Cody did a
squeaky Barbie voice. "No Cody, I don't. You're going to have to take all
my clothes off so I can get a nice, even tan! I wanna be totally nekkid!"

Cody had a devilish look in his eyes as he began to rip the clothes off the
doll. "Looks like we're getting a Barbie Strip Show, everyone! Yeah, show
us some skin, Barbie! Can you do some pole-dancing, too?"

Then Cody opened the front of the toaster oven and put the naked doll on
the tray. "There you go, Barbie! Would you like light, medium or dark?
`Ooh, Cody, I want a nice, dark tan so that all the boys won't be able to
take their eyes off my tits and ass when I go to the beach this summer!'"
Then Cody shoved the doll in the toaster oven, closed the door and turned
it on.

Noah and Cody laughed together as the video reached it's logical
conclusion, with the Barbie doll's hideous meltdown and the toaster oven in
flames. Cody continued with his demented monologue until the very end of
the video.

"What did you think, Noah?"

"That was awesome! I think You're really creative!"

"Thanks!" Cody said, grinning broadly. Then he got a very serious look on
his face. "I'm glad you liked my video, Noah. I think that one is my most
accessible piece. I want to show you another one now. It's a lot more
personal."

"Thanks for sharing your videos with me, Cody. I'm glad you invited me over
today. I'm having a lot of fun."

Cody clicked on another file, cody_nosepicker_one.mpg. The video began to
play.

The title came on the black screen in bold white letters. It simply read,
"Nosepicker." The scene faded in on Cody sitting on the toilet in the
bathroom. He wasn't taking a dump or anything like that; he was simply
sitting on the toilet wearing jeans and a very white T-shirt.

In the video, there was a lag of about 30 seconds before Cody seemed to
notice that the tape was running. He was staring into the camera with a
vacant look, his mouth slightly open. He looks kinda dopey, but really
cute, Noah thought.

As they were watching the video, Noah realized that Cody had been slowly
moving closer to him the whole time. Their hands were almost touching on
the bed. Noah could feel the warmth of his friend's body next to him. It
was like electricity was passing between the two boys.

In the video, Cody was staring intently into the camera, and he had slowly
begun picking his nose. He'd dig deep into a nostril, pull out a booger and
suck it off his finger. Noah was astonished at what he was seeing. It
seemed incredibly strange to him that anyone would videotape himself eating
boogers. Was this art? Or was Cody really loco, like Diego had said?

Noah was also getting very aroused watching Cody eat his boogers on
camera. He knew it was disgusting, but somehow it was a very sensual thing
to watch. Noah couldn't take his eyes off of the screen. He hoped that Cody
hadn't noticed his erection. He tried to shift his jeans around to hide it.

In the video, Cody continued to pick his nose and eat his own snot for
quite some time. Noah was riveted. Then something very disturbing
happened. Cody pulled his finger out of his nose. He held it to the camera,
showing a small spot of blood. Then he wiped the blood on his white
T-shirt. He stuck his finger back in his nose and pulled it out again. More
blood. This time a trickle of blood started coming out of his left
nostril. He let it run down his face and onto his white shirt. Then he
began picking in the other nostril. Soon the other nostril started gushing
blood onto Cody's T-shirt as well, coloring it deep red. All the while,
Cody still had that vacant, empty look in his eyes.

Noah was horrified, nauseated and disgusted. At first he thought Cody's
videos were funny, but now he was beginning to realize that his new friend
was a deeply disturbed individual. Nervously, Noah got up from the bed and
put his sneakers on.

"Where are you going, Noah? I thought you wanted to see my videos!"

"I can't watch your videos anymore. I have to go home now."

Cody looked upset. "Don't leave, Noah. Please stay and watch them with me."

"That's not art, that's sick."

Cody was crestfallen. "I'm really sorry, Noah. When I met you I thought you
were someone special. You seemed really interested in me and my art.  I
hoped you would be able to understand. Nobody ever does. Except my dad. I
was hoping you'd be different." A tear ran down Cody's cheek.

"Goodbye, Cody. You don't need to show me the door. I know the way out."

As Noah was leaving Cody's room, he turned around to see the boy sitting on
the bed, tears streaming down his cheeks. Diego's right, Noah thought. Cody
really was loco, and there was something evil about him. The videos had
showed just how disturbed the boy was.

Noah vowed that he would never going back to Cody's house ever again.

But deep down inside, Noah knew that he couldn't resist Cody's beautiful
green eyes, freckled face and impish smile, and that he would not be able
to keep himself away.

To be Continued