Alan's Beach -- More Mackey Tails

Written by Sarge AKA Aldric <pietar_the_fearless@yahoo.com>, Charles Well <charleswell@tutanota.com> and David davidthornton70@tutanota.com

Warning

This story is a sexual fantasy about young teen and preteen boys having sex. It was written by adults for the entertainment of other adults. The people, places and events detailed here are made up. The authors would never wish to see the events in this tale happen to anyone in real life.

Foreword

This story began over a year ago from ideas traded between myself and Charles Well. We settled on a Mackey-like setting, but moved it to California. The idea was to separate the story from Kids of Indian Spring (KOIS, written by Jonas Henley, last chapter published 6/22/95) and Sandy Jacobs (SJ, written by several authors, idea created by Charles Well, last chapter published 12/17/20). SJ was to finish the story that Jonas had created, and it led to several other spin-offs, several written by me under the name Sarge.

Three authors worked together to create Alan's Beach, Chuck Well, David, and myself. As you will see, there is a choosing, in this story it is called MAC Day. You'll learn more about that later, but a big difference between this story and KOIS and SJ is that here, entering MAC Day is mostly voluntary. We of course hope you like the story. You do not need to have read KOIS or SJ, this story is related to them only by subject. No characters or events from those stories are included in Alan's Beach.

KOIS can be found here: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/kids-of-indian-spring/ and SJ can be found here: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/Sandy-Jacobs/

Chapter 1 -- 30 Days Before The MAC

On the west coast, north of Sacramento, a group of European settlers discovered a tranquil spot which one of their leaders named Alan's Beach. Alan Mackey (b. 1808) and his younger brother Charles (b. 1815) were the sons of Thomas McKie who was born in Scotland but who later immigrated to the US. The other families on the wagon train were all recent immigrants searching for a better life and were either Scots (Boyd, Dunn, McCoy, McGill) or Irish (Boyle, Flynn, Kelly, and O'Brien). In the early days of the little town, people who lived here made a living by hunting and supplying the unceasing demand of the fur trade, or fishing and farming. In recent times logging has become more important. There is also a quarry closer to Highway 101, where hundreds of slabs of granite are shipped out every month. This is the story of some of the boys who live there.

Andy Dunn (12) -- 30 Days Before The MAC

Twelve-year-old Andrew Michael Dunn (Andy) had just made the most momentous decision of his short life. He signed his name on the dotted line and it was done. The blood rushed to his face, he felt weak at the knees, and he clutched the table to steady himself. The terrible paper he had just signed sat there menacingly, appearing to taunt him. But he needed to put regrets aside, as it was too late to back-out. His father stood behind him, the man's hands resting on his son's shoulders providing what reassurance he could. His kid brother Simon (Sim) was there as well. That had been at his father's insistence, but Andy lacked the courage to look at him. How could he look at the younger boy ever again, knowing what his dad had in mind?

"A good decision," said Mr. Bryce Mackey who was handling the sign-up papers this year on behalf of the Trust.

Bryce assessed the boy in front of him. His looks spoke something of the mix of the Scottish and Irish heritage of his parents. He was tall for his age with a thin build, and there was none of the flabbiness that afflicted too many modern kids his age who wasted their lives playing video games. There were definite signs of upper-body strength to this boy, no doubt developed from regular hard labor on his father's fishing boat. The dark brown, almost black, unruly hair, the olive skin, hazel eyes, and strong facial features left but one conclusion. Andy would be a real contender for first prize in his age group on MAC Day. The other boys needed to watch out.

"I wish Andy all the best for MAC Day," he continued. "There's no more deserving boy in town for first prize in his age group as far as I'm concerned. You know I've been greatly impressed with your son since I first met him six months ago." The boy continued to impress with his diligence and commitment to the work he did in the office.

"Thanks Bryce. Andy is a good kid. No doubt about that," his father had said, but Andy seemed hardly aware of what was happening around him. He stank of fish and just wanted to get back home and shower. The document he'd signed was the result of more than a year of deliberation and discussions with his father. Right at that moment though, he craved the normalcy and security of home. He understood what he'd just done would have an incalculable impact on the remainder of his life. If he was unsuccessful, that could be bad, but if he succeeded, that might be worse. And even though he had now signed his name on the application form, he was still uncertain what outcome he wanted more -- success or failure, win or lose. The stakes were so large, it was almost overwhelming. But what choice did he have? Andy didn't want to be a fisherman like his old man. Fishing was an honorable and ancient profession, but even though his father often worked 6 or 7 days a week for 14 hours at a stretch, the family barely managed to make ends meet. No, Andy had set his sights elsewhere. He wanted to pursue a career in the law when he grew up. He had witnessed firsthand how ignorance of the law had been used against his father and his grandfather before him, and Andy was determined the cycle would break with his generation. But a career in the law meant college, and law school after that. And none of it came cheap. Although his father owned his own boat and the family house, both were old, in need of some repair, and mortgaged to the hilt. There would be no college fund awaiting either Andy or his two brothers when they came of age. Well, not unless... Andy's thoughts were interrupted by Mr. Mackey.

"What about you Simon? Can I sign you up for the 11-year-old age group?" Mr. Mackey asked. It was apparent that the younger boy was practically a smaller facsimile of his older sibling. Smiling widely, he continued addressing the smaller brother.

"In many ways it's easier to win one of the top prizes in your age category. Not so much competition."

"Thank you, Sir," Sim responded confidently. "But no thanks. Dad says we've gotta have at least some hairs -- you know -- down there, before we're old enough to go into the MAC. And I got none yet."

Andy couldn't help grinning at his kid-brother. The "hairs" thing was probably a family secret but their parents had set it down as a rule at least a year ago. Besides, it was clear neither Mr. Mackey, or their father, seemed concerned with Simon's honesty. Both adults were laughing out loud.

"Quite right," Mr. Mackey said eventually after he'd stopped chuckling. "Your dad is a wise man." Then he turned to their father.

"Tom, do you need a `training box' for Andy to...err... practice? I have a stack of them out the back here, and I loan them to the dads when they sign-up their boys. Getting practice is an essential `must-do' for all the serious candidates you understand? We don't want our tailers getting hurt."

"Oh yes, I realize that. But I have the full kit already. Got it from Steve Flynn. His boy, Shane, took part last year," Tom Dunn responded.

"Steve should have given that back ages ago," said Bryce Mackey looking frustrated. I'll need a few words with him. But Shane has proven to be a very popular tailer. He hardly needs that kind of practice any longer." 

Mr. Mackey stood there smiling at Sim thinking of other inducements he might offer the boy to get him involved. The eleven-year-old age category was always short of suitable candidates.

However, it was clear to Tom Dunn that the meeting was over. He turned to his sons.

"Come on boys, let's get back home. We all need a bath. Thanks Bryce, for staying around and waiting for us. I know Saturdays are not normal business hours for you."

"Anything I can do to help Andy is my pleasure. You know that Tom."

***

Andrew Dunn lived in the town of Alan's Beach, a small, somewhat isolated community nestled between mountains and the coast in Northern California. It was 125 miles north of San Francisco, and just north of where Highway 101 stops hugging the coast. Although often omitted on small scale maps, Alan's Beach was home to around 1,200 people year-round, and up to 1500 or more in the summer. A two-lane road into town via an exit off the highway was the only way into Alan's Beach, other than by boat.

Although the name of the tiny community was Alan's Beach, nobody lived on the actual beach. A small fishing port and a cannery was located there, but this is land where cold, wet air comes ashore from the frigid waters of the Pacific Ocean and clashes with the mountains. Along the coast, daytime temperatures in the peak of summer rarely get above 60 F (15 C), and it is frequently foggy and damp. But just over the first mountain is a valley where it can reach much more comfortable temperatures all summer, with plenty of sunshine. Even the winters are mild, thanks to the air coming off the ocean, rising over the peak, and then being compressed as it falls to the valley.

"Well, the die is cast," said Tom Dunn as he looked over at his two sons as they drove towards their home on the north side of town. "How are you coping Andy? You were very quiet at Mr. Mackey's law office."

All three of them were crammed into the front bench-seat of the family's Dodge pick-up. There was another row of seats in the back, but when their mom wasn't around, squeezing into the front was the norm.

"Don't know!" Andy grunted, frustrated with the question. He continued staring out the window. There was nothing outside the boy hadn't seen a thousand times, but he couldn't face anyone just then and he certainly wasn't ready to talk about it today. Yes, the decision had been his, and no one had pushed him into it. But still, one more `normal' day was all he wanted now. The big decision had been made and acted on. He would deal with his new reality in the morning -- tomorrow.

Simon looked over at his brother and then to his dad. "What did Mr. Mackey mean by a training box?" he asked innocently. Andy grunted out loud as if punched in the gut, but otherwise remained silent and continued staring out the window.

Like every boy 10 and older in Alan's Beach, Sim knew perfectly well what a training box was. Gruesome rumors of its contents abounded around the tween boy community, but few had ever actually seen one. Simon knew he was making mischief and although he and Andy generally got along well for brothers so close in age, the younger boy felt the need to test the limits of the new power he might soon have over his brother. He also knew that in 12-months' time, the shoe would be on the other foot. Simon had dreams that would take him out of Alan's Beach as well. So he needed to be careful to avoid any payback from Andy for anything he did now. Or worse still, his dad might appoint their youngest brother, Ricky, as his "dildo coach." Well, that's what the kids at school called it anyway. It was a job usually given to a brother or a close cousin, but a best friend might be roped into performing the chore in the case of no close male age-peer relatives. "But not 10-year-old Ricky," Sim prayed under his breath.

"Crawl up and look in the back seat. Under my foul-weather jacket you'll see it," said Tom Dunn as he pulled the truck over to the shoulder of the road.

The ancient looking, highly lacquered wooden box was heavy. It looked about 18 inches long, 8 inches wide and 10 inches deep (46, 20, and 26 cm) as Sim placed it, almost reverently, across his lap. The boys knew there were a bunch of these boxes floating around town. They had been hand made in the 1930s to assist boys in getting ready for MAC Day and had been passed around each year's new candidates ever since.

"Can I open it?" Sim asked hesitantly, as if requesting a drink from the Holy Grail.

"Sure," responded their father. "I'm putting you in charge of its contents and your brother's preparation for the ceremony."

Both boys stared at their dad. Andy was no longer gawking out the window. He knew this was coming and that it would be part of what he'd signed up for. But he hated everything about it. And why now? Andy stifled the urge to hit his little brother for the deliberate mischief making. As for Sim, he knew it might be part of his future as well, but that was then and not now. He couldn't resist a smirk.

Sim slowly unsnapped the bronze catch and opened the lid. The first thing he saw was a laminated type written card, headed "Instructions for Use." He pushed that up into the top of the box for now. The business end of the training kit was what he was dying to see. And there they were. Five dildos of increasing length and girth, all neatly lined up in what looked like a mounting of cork to support the fake light-brown wooden cocks in their assigned places. If nothing else, that showed the true age of this antique. Styrofoam or some type of plastic would have been used as mounting today.

Sim couldn't resist the urge to explore. He fingered the largest dildo out of its backing and held it up for everyone to see. It looked exactly like a real boy's boner, a big one to be sure, but it had ridges and skin folds like an older teen might have. And it was circumcised. Sim had learned about cut and uncut boys in health class and he'd seen enough of his friends to know the difference. He started rubbing the dick along the shaft to get a proper feel of the smooth, highly polished wood, but realized both his brother and father were staring at him. He blushed.

"It looks so real," Sim offered as apology.

His dad smiled. "Yep, I got to admit it looks very convincing. Old Man Calvin Boyd carved 20 sets of the training kits back in 1933 for Mr. Horace Mackey. He certainly did a fantastic job. He was obviously very skilled in working with wood. See the names there?"

Neither of the boys had noticed the writing, in small lettering, along the hinge-side of the box until then.

Andy read the names out loud. "Tom, Dick, Harry, Tiny Tim and Lil' Pee-Wee," and then looked up at his father.

"Old Man Boyd had five sons, all more or less exactly one year apart in age. The oldest boy was Tom at 16 and the youngest was Lil' Pee-Wee at 11. The story goes that he used his own boy's cocks as models for the dildos in the training boxes.  Each one is supposed to be an exact replica of the private parts of Tom, Dick, Harry, Tiny Tim and Lil' Pee-Wee back in April 1933."

"Wow!" exclaimed Sim in stunned amazement. Both boys looked in renewed awe at the training box.

Andy did the mental math in his head. April 1933 was more than 85 years ago. Even Lil' Pee-Wee would surely be dead by now. Then he looked over at Sim who was still holding the Tom cock replica. The fierce bulbous cock-head looked "dangerous." There wasn't another way he could think to describe it. "Dangerous" fit perfectly. Andy didn't remember ever seeing his own asshole. Was such a thing even possible? With two mirrors, maybe. But then he realized, there was no way in hell a kid as big as Tom could ever get that monster in there. He pulled out the Tiny Tim. It was considerably smaller but still solid and unyielding. And again, the cockhead was slightly larger than the shaft. Did all those Boyd kids have big cockheads? Even Tiny Tim would hurt if he stuck it in back there into his asshole. Andy was having serious doubts about his decision to sign up for the MAC.

Mr. Dunn saw fear in the eyes of his oldest son. "Don't worry. There are age restrictions on which boys can use the tailers. You certainly shouldn't be facing anything like a penis the size of a Tom in your first year," he said reassuringly. He wasn't sure if that was completely true or not, but figured that's what the Training Boxes were for. He would need to get a lot more information about this whole MAC thing. He had used a bunch of the tailers back in the day, but had never taken part himself from the other side of the blanket. So, his knowledge was limited. That needed to change.

"Why don't we read the instructions? Sim, could you do the honors?"

Like Andy, Sim was confident in school and skilled in the 3R's. He picked up the laminated card and began reading out loud.

Instructions for Use

The Boyd Training Boxes are intended to assist participants in MAC Day ceremonies to prepare for the big day. If used as directed over either a 20 or 25 day and night period, even the smallest boy should be capable of accommodating the largest boy penises, orally or anally, without undue stress or pain.

Dildos

There are five different sized dildos in this kit. Each size set should be used to practice for either 4 or 5 days depending on whether the boy has 20- or 25-days preparation time.

Always start your preparations with the Lil' Pee-Wee and use that dildo exclusively for either the 4 or 5 days available. During daylight hours, the boy must practice inserting and extracting, in rapid succession, the Lil' Pee-Wee into both his mouth and anus (asshole) as far as it will go. We recommend 10-minute sessions -- 5 minutes of oral (mouth) practice and a further 5 minutes of anal (butt-hole) practice. This ten-minute routine should be repeated four times per day. Once the 4 or 5-day period is over, move up to the Tiny Tim, and repeat the above procedure. The boy should steadily make his way through each dildo size group from smallest to largest.

Important Note: Before anal practice is contemplated, the dildo and anus of the boy must be thoroughly lubricated. This can be done by the boy himself, or his MAC Training Coach (known colloquially as a `Dildo Coach'). It is important that each contestant has a Coach, not only to guide their practice and ensure a strict schedule is maintained, but to provide emotional and moral support at times when stress about the upcoming ceremony becomes overwhelming as it surely will. The coach must be an age peer -- brother, cousin, or friend and be prepared to commit the time and energy to complete this task. It is usual to compensate coaches for their efforts, but such arrangements are always left to the contestant and coach to negotiate.

By following these simple procedures diligently, each candidate should be thoroughly prepared for whatever he might face on MAC Day.

Safety Rules in Using the Training Box

1. Make generous use of lubrication for all anal penetration activity. We recommend KY Jelly. A boy's ass doesn't self-lubricate the way a vagina does, and it's a delicate area that can be hurt or injured if abused. The boy must thoroughly lube up both his anus (asshole) and the dildo before he starts.

The dildo must be thoroughly washed between sessions and completely cleaned before they are returned to the community store.

2. The second rule of anal penetration is to go slow. The slower the better at the start. Rushing into anal penetration can lead to rectal pain, and tearing. If the boy feels pain at any point, take that as a signal that you're upping the ante too quickly.

3. Lastly, anal play tends to work best if the boy is already turned on when it begins. It's a good idea to get him into a sexy headspace. Depending on whether the boy is alone or with his coach, he might want to achieve this by making out, masturbating, or giving or receiving oral sex (sucking cock).

Note: The five dildos can be fitted to the separate bench for use as part of the training routine. This is useful when the boy must practice alone.

Adult Council June 2015

Sim finished reading. He turned over the Instruction page and saw the sizes of the dildos on the back.

Training Box Dildo Sizes

 "Wow!" he exclaimed. "So I've gotta help Andy do all that stuff every day?"

"Yes, that's right. The separate training bench is in the back of the truck under the tarp," Mr. Dunn explained. Andy will use that sometimes, but you'll be helping him out too.

Tom Dunn looked over at his sons. It was clear each was dealing with their own concerns, but he needed to press on and get this done. He turned to the younger boy.

"I have already spoken to Andy about this. He knows what he signed-up for. But if he wins one of the three prizes at MAC in the 12s age group, in return for the weekly income that goes to him and your mother and I until he turns 18, the $50,000 or equivalent scholarships to college, plus the low-interest loans when he turns 21, he must agree to be a Tailer from MAC Day and for the next two years after that. And you know what happens to Tailers?"

"They give blowjobs and get fucked up the ass all the time," Sim said, staring at his brother once again.

"Well, to put it crudely, yes. But there are daily limits to protect the Tailers a little. They are never required to have sex more than five times per day. In addition, they can't be forced to provide more than three fucks or three blowjobs, as you called them, in any 24-hour period."

Tom examined his two sons. He saw the doubts in Andy and the shock on Sim's face.

"But even getting fucked three times a day would be an incredibly painful experience for a boy your age. That's where the `training box' comes in. Its job is to prepare the future Tailer to take even the largest boy cocks of the permitted age range. Even with kids your age, you have no doubt noticed that some guys are tiny and some much bigger in the crotch department."

From the slight smile on Sim's face, it was clear he understood.

"To get ready for that experience, Andy will start using the training box and bench as per the instructions you just read out loud. And Sim, it will be your job to see that your brother keeps to the instructions. That will be your job as Dildo Coach. That's what we called it when I was a kid. Do they still use that term?"

Sim grinned, indicating a definite Yes. Andy's face was red with embarrassment and he squirmed in his seat. Tom Dunn smiled to himself and continued.

"I am giving you a lot of authority over your older brother. It is certainly an unusual situation. But as Andy's Dildo Coach, you are in charge of his training and need to ensure he is ready for whatever he faces on MAC Day.

"Any questions?"

***

No one spoke for several minutes. Each of them was lost in their own thoughts. It was Andy who broke the silence, speaking quietly. "Mom knows I was gonna do this right?"

"Yes, she knows. She doesn't like it, but she understands why," said Mr. Dunn reassuringly. Remember that before your mom married me and became Louisa May Dunn, she was Louisa May Boyle."

"We know all that," said Sim with feigned exacerbation, "and that's why your boat is called the Louisa May. We've heard the story a million times. Blah, blah, blah."

Tom Dunn would typically take offence at Simon's cheek, and given the boy a slap across the ear, as his rear-end was hardly accessible just then. However, he felt the boys deserved a little latitude. The circumstances were hardly normal. He gave his second son his `death look' which shut him up for now. Sim went back to examining the wooden dildos.

Then the man looked over at his oldest son who had an expression of expectation on his face. Yes, he thought, Andy was definitely the smartest of his children. "What you don't know is that all three of your mother's brothers took part in the MAC Ceremonies back when they were your age."

"Wow!" exclaimed Sim. "You mean Uncle Jack, Uncle Phil, and Uncle Mike all became Tailers?"

"Well, only Jack and Phil. Your Uncle Mike never took the vote gathering serious enough. There were a large bunch of boys that year and he came in fifth place.

"Oh, wow! I never knew..." Sim said.

"But you know you can't ever mention what I just told you to anyone," Mr. Dunn continued. "There's a long-established taboo within the adult community in this town about ever speaking of what some men did in their teen years. But I guess that doesn't apply to you kids and what is happening today. You understand what I mean by taboo? Right?"

"Yes, Dad, we know," answered Sim. "It means there's sort of like a rule, but maybe worse than a rule."

Andy nodded in agreement with his kid-brother, but he needed another question answered. "Is that why Uncle Jack and Uncle Phil both live in those big houses on West Bridge Street?"

"Yes," Tom Dunn answered. "Low interest housing loans from the Trust."

"Oh wow!' repeated Sim. "Dad, did you?... you know..."

"Put my name down for the MAC Ceremony?" said the man completing his son's question. "No, I didn't. To tell you the truth, I was scared shitless."

Both boys looked over in shock at their dad. He hardly ever used foul language in front of them.

"Don't worry, you are both going to hear much worse between now and MAC Day. Besides, I knew I wanted to be a fisherman as a boy and your grandfather had the old Delta Marine back then. So I figured, why put myself through that, if I didn't have to. But Sim, your brother and I have discussed the possibility of him taking part in the MAC many times over the past few weeks. Eventually I grew to understand and approve of his reasons. That's why your mother and I set up that rule about pubic hair; the one you blurted out to Mr. Mackey."

"I'm sorry dad. I didn't think."

"Don't worry. It wasn't a secret. We did it to give Andy another year to reconsider his options. He had thought of going into MAC as an 11-year-old and spoke to me back then.

Sim stared at his brother. "You never told me," he complained.

"Yeah well, I know what you are like at keeping secrets."

Sim would have punched his brother at this insult if they'd been alone. But with their dad there, he just harrumphed and leaned back in the seat.

"Anyway, your mother will come to terms with whatever happens," cut in Tom Dunn before his boys came to blows. "What concerns me a little is Ricky. I know your youngest brother is only 10, but that boy has his head in the clouds a little too much for my liking."

"He's not that innocent," said Sim.

Andy ignored the comment. "You want me to talk to him?"

"Best if we do it together later tonight before he starts hearing the news from the brothers of his friends."

"You want me there for that too?" Sim asked, clearly looking forward to the task.

"Best if it's just Andy and me for now. After all, it's Andy who's put his name down. Not you. You can tell Ricky next year if you sign-up for the MAC."

Clearly, Sim wasn't happy with this answer, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

Landon (13) and Carter (13) -- 30 Days Before The MAC

As Andy turned back to look out the window of the car, another Alan's Beach boy faced an important meeting of his own. Carter Boyd checked his folder to make sure everything he needed was there. This meeting was one he'd arranged with Landon Kelly, a meeting that could elevate his status above anything that his dad had ever managed. Not only that, it would be doing something he would be proud of. His family wasn't poor, his dad operated a welding and blacksmithing shop that had first been built by Grandpa Boyd. It was hard work, especially in the summer where there was little wind to carry the heat away from the forge. It paid fairly well, as it was a lot easier for people to have his dad fix or fabricate some part or tool than to drive all the way to Sacramento.

Carter had helped his dad every summer starting when he was 8, but the work didn't interest him. When he was eleven, he got his dad's permission to try and land a job somewhere in the woods, logging perhaps. Dad had been supportive, but also cautious. "It's a different kind of hard work than what I do here, but hard all the same. And they won't have kids operating chain saws or rolling the logs."

He understood, and a week after his eleventh birthday he found himself in the foreman's shack at Kelly Logging, named for the owner, currently the third son of Otis Kelly, the man who founded the company.

"You don't look twelve," the foreman said. "The sign outside says twelve and up. You can read, can't ya?"

"Yes sir, I can. And I'm twelve. I'm a little short, but so is my father." He had been prepared to have his age doubted, and only hoped the man didn't tell him to have his dad come in and verify his age. Carter knew his dad wouldn't lie for him. He removed his shirt and showed his flat stomach and the beginning of muscles in his arms and shoulders, muscles earned in his father's workshop.

The foreman looked at him. "Yeah, I guess you is looking like you could handle stuff. Pick up that barrel over there." He pointed to a cask with the top closed.

Lifting the way his father had taught him, Carter bent at the knees and got his balance. Then he wrapped his arms around the cast and pushed straight up. "It's damn heavy," he said. He managed to hold it for a few seconds before he had to set it down before he dropped it.

"Yeah, damned heavy. It's got seventy pounds of chain in it. Sign here, you got the job."

It turned out that the job almost never involved lifting anything heavy. Rather, he was called a gopher. Any of the men who needed something would call him and he'd run and get it. Boring work mostly, but he used the time when he wasn't running around to watch the logging process.

That had been two years ago. He still spent time in the evenings helping his dad in the shop. Rugged and tough, he now had an idea of what he wanted to do. Kelly Logging, like other logging firms in the area, went into designated tree stands and clear-cut a section. Some of the lumber they cut was too small to be profitable, or had insect borings or disease, but in order to get the logs out, everything had to be cut. The wood they didn't want or couldn't use was burned on the spot.

Carter had a better idea. A two-man operation could go in before the loggers did and remove all the wood they didn't want. The smaller trees would still sell, but he needed to be able to control costs and get the wood out without removing any of the bigger trees the logging company would want. He knew exactly how to do it. People were talking about green businesses, and his idea would provide that. But he needed seed money to get it started. He knew he wouldn't be able to meet with Mr. Kelly. At thirteen, he had no chance of gaining any of the man's time. But Mr. Kelly had a son, Landon, who was also thirteen. And Carter was so sure his idea was a good one, that with a little sweetener added in, the younger Kelly would hopefully get him an audience with his father.

Landon was interested when Carter Boyd said he wanted to talk to him about a business idea. He quickly set up the meeting at his house. Now that he was thirteen, Landon was becoming increasingly concerned that his father doubted his ability to run things. His dad never tired of telling the story of how he started his own first business at that age. Landon felt he needed something to prove his worth to his father or he wouldn't ever be taken seriously. In that case, ownership of Kelly Logging might pass to a cousin and not to him. He hoped that the kid coming over would provide a worthwhile idea.

"I have this idea of opening my own small logging company," the boy began.

"The market is already full," Landon interrupted. "The three companies that currently exist in this area is one too many. We don't need a fourth."

"I think you're wrong." Carter saw the look of anger on Landon's face. The kid apparently didn't like being contradicted. He hurried along with his proposal. "There is a lot of wasted wood in the big companies' strategy. It isn't cost effective for them to harvest the smaller trees and sick ones. But with my own portable lumber mill, I can clear those and turn them into lumber on the spot. Then I can sell that right here in Alan's Beach, and grind up the rest. I'll use horses to move stuff around so I can work amongst the bigger trees that companies like your dad's want. It will save them time, so I can use their lease permit without needing my own."

"What do you know about the logging business?" Landon asked. "Your dad is basically a handyman with a small forge. Do you think you learned how the system works by being there when he came to fix something broken or make us a part we needed but didn't want to order and wait for?"

"I've worked on your father's land for two years as a gopher. I've had plenty of time to see..."

"Two years? I thought you were thirteen, like me." Landon knew his dad had a strict policy against hiring anyone under the age of twelve.

"I kind of lied about my age," Carter admitted. "I started just after my eleventh birthday." He quickly continued with his presentation. "I will sell the idea using the concept that I'm running a green company. No tractors, I'll use horses to haul wood around. And instead of burning all the smaller trees, I'll harvest them. And all the waste material will decay and return to the ground to support new growth."

"Why are you giving me this idea," Landon asked. He could see the possibilities but he didn't see any reason to make it easy for the kid.

"I need $50,000 to get it started. I need to buy a portable saw mill, a grinder, and some horses. But I'm young, and can only work after school and on weekends, so all the profit I make would go to repaying the loan. I think I can get it down to around $10,000 by the time I graduate from high school and then it will become a full-time business."

"So join MAC day and get the first thousand for doing nothing. Then..."

"I have no interest at all in becoming a Tailer," Carter said firmly. "And I'm not giving you this idea. I want you to get me a meeting with your dad where I can convince him it will save him money. I want to borrow the money from him."

Landon did not like being interrupted. Especially not by someone below his social class. But he was starting to see the value of the idea. He wasn't sure it would actually save his dad money, but the kid seemed to have given the plan a lot of thought.

"Okay," he said, keeping his voice even. "But my father won't agree to a meeting with a kid from your side of the river unless I can sell him on the idea. What's in it for me? If my dad hates the idea, I don't want to be the one who brought it to him."

Carter had anticipated this question. He'd mulled over it many a sleepless night. It finally became clear, there was only one thing he could offer to the Kelly kid.

"I'll give you a blowjob now. And when your dad accepts the idea, I'll give you one a week until either we turn eighteen or the loan is repaid." He watched Landon's face as he made his pitch. The boy's eyes widened, and his eyebrows went up. There was no smile on his face, but the frown was gone.

As Carter had explained his idea, Landon saw the possibilities and knew it was exactly what he needed to impress his father. And the kid had admitted he'd lied about his age. He could use that to make the deal even sweeter in exchange for not having the kid fired.

"Not good enough," he said to Carter. "A blowjob now, and another one tomorrow, and then I'll take the idea to Dad. But I get one a week until I turn 18 even if he turns it down. If he accepts the idea, you can show your worth to me and one or two boys I pick. Up to 3 blowjobs a week, again, until I turn 18."

It was too much. Carter had expected a counter offer. That was why he started so low. But this was too much. Sucking Landon would be bad enough, but other boys too? Unnamed boys? He thought, trying to come up with a way to bring the scale back towards the middle.

"Take it or leave it," Landon said before Carter could make a counter offer. "And you lied about your age. If I tell Dad, he'll have you fired immediately. And probably Simon McCoy too. As foreman, he never should have hired you in the first place. If he lost his job, his grandson, Randy McCoy, would probably be quite pissed at you."

It was a damn good deal, if the kid took it. But Landon could see in the boy's face that he wasn't going to. As Carter started putting his notes back into his folder, he had to make another offer.

"Okay, how about the same terms, only just for 3 years. Not even that long. I turn sixteen in two and a half. One blowjob a week for me if Dad turns the deal down. If he accepts the idea and funds it, you give blowjobs 3 times a week until then. And I'll let you pick a boy each time instead of me picking two."

Landon watched. The boy put the last paper into his folder and picked it up. But then he held it out in front of him.

"I guess," Carter muttered. "But you promise to not get me or Randy's grandpa fired." He never should have told Landon he'd lied to get hired at Kelly Logging. The kid most likely could make trouble. And he didn't want to be the cause of the foreman losing his job.

"Let's put it in writing," Landon said smiling for the first time during the interview. He sat at his computer and quickly typed it up, making it look like one of the contracts he had written for his dad. He printed two copies.

"Sign both copies, I will do the same. We each have one. Then, today's blowjob." Landon knew the kid would never own the company. But he'd be obligated to the terms anyway. He knew his dad would be twice made proud of him. One, for presenting the idea. And second, for the terms of the agreement.

Thinking this was a mistake, Carter still signed the contracts.

Putting the contract in his folder, Carter waited for Landon to make the next move. The teen moved to stand in front of him.

"On your knees. I want you to take it out." Landon's dick was throbbing and straining against the zipper of his pants as Carter looked at him, the reality of what he'd committed to beginning to set in.

Awkwardly, he dropped to his knees and lowered the teen's zipper. He then unsnapped the boy's shorts and let them fall around his knees. Landon relished the feeling of power that rushed through him as the other boy's hand brushed against his excitement, a small wet patch already showing in the underwear.

Carter flushed deeply as he eased the underwear down, revealing an averaged sized penis for a young teen. It was around 4.5 inches (11 cm) long. At its base was a light sprinkling of pubic hair. But what shocked Carter was the size of Landon's testicles. Large ovals hanging heavily in a smooth sack. And they were huge!

Wanting to feel his dick in the kid's mouth, Landon spoke huskily. "You'll have more than enough time to get acquainted with them later. Right now, you have a job to do."

Carter swallowed hard and leaned in, taking in the slightly musty smell. He closed his eyes as he touched his lips to another boy's dick for the first time. Taking a breath, he took the head into his mouth and licked at it with his tongue, tasting pre cum.

Landon moaned and his hands moved to the kid's head.  "Yes, that's it." Instinctively, he thrust forward into the waiting mouth. Carter felt the smooth skin covering the rigid shaft pulsing in time with the teen's heartbeat. To help himself rebalance, he placed his hands on the older boy's hips.

"Oh yesss!" moaned Landon. "Now grab my ass and show me how much your mouth likes dick!"

Oh god! That's fantastic. Use your index finger to play with my bum hole. Don't stick it in. Just play around the entrance."

He did as directed and more of the four and a half inches of boy cock kept seeking entry.  As he opened his mouth wider, Carter instinctively grabbed the base of Landon's dick with his free hand as it began filling his oral cavity and threatened to head deep down his throat and make him gag. He did his best at the amateur, first-time blow job, almost in tears as he got closer to the inevitable filling of his mouth with cum. Could he spit? Would he have to swallow? They hadn't discussed that. Whichever, just so long as he could make it through this taking of his oral virginity.

Carter was feeling along the thicker, hard flesh, still wondering incomprehensibly how he had come to this and reflecting on the fact that this very symbol of manhood, this rod of all power in boys, this hot and thick and powerful rod was in his mouth and this whole experience would become a regular event in his life. He was doing Landon's sexual bidding, and he had willingly volunteered to do so. Was it worth it? Was his potential new logging company worth this much?  But he had come too far to back out now. Not with another boy's impossibly hard member filling his mouth and threatening to explode any second.

For Landon, this experience was a head rush like no other. The younger kid's submission gave him a feeling of power he hadn't expected. Along with that came the almost overwhelming feelings of pleasure that ran in waves up his spine. He tightened his grip on the boy's head, taking control of the blowjob. He was being driven by the desperate need to empty his balls. It didn't take long before he reached the pinnacle and started filling Carter's mouth, forcing the boy to swallow frantically as he struggled for breath.

He held Carter in his degraded position until every last drop had been sucked from his rapidly deflating cock and then let go. Now that the climax of the day's events had passed, he was suddenly embarrassed.  Landon hurried to pull up his underwear and refasten his pants. Clearing his throat, he said, "I ... uh .. sorry about that. That felt really good." Carter nodded wordlessly and collected his folder, walking away quickly.

As he made his way home, all Carter could think about was what he had just done. He'd sucked a dick! Not a big fat one, Landon wasn't all that well developed, but he shot five bursts of salty cream. All of which was in his stomach. A boy's sperm. And he had obligated himself to do it again. Many, many times. He tried to focus on his target. A job that would pay him a pretty good wage. He'd stay at home, paying his parents rent, while saving everything he could until he could afford a nice house. He could have had more if he'd gone for being part of MAC Day. But as bad as giving blowjobs was, he would never want to be fucked. To become a Tailer, with boys knocking at his door. Where would he even do it? In his room, with Mom home? The shop, where Dad was working? Besides, there was no guarantee that he would finish in one of the top three places. Boys worked hard to get those coveted prizes. The $1,000 for entering would help, but not as much. His business plan was sound. The cost of obtaining it would hurt him for three years, but it was better than two years of being fucked.

That night, Landon stood in front of his father's desk.

"This was your idea?" Dad asked him without looking up.

He wanted to take credit for it, but he knew the truth would come out eventually and his dad did not like surprises. "No sir. A boy who works as a gopher for you thought it up. He came to me to see if you'd fund it. I think he was hoping to run the business for himself."

"But you thought you could." Alvin Kelly pushed the papers back in the folder and dropped it on his desk. "Do you have any idea how hard a job this would be? Is that what you want?"

"Excuse me, but hell no, sir. I don't intend to do the work! I'll hire the kid who thought it up and some other needy boy. I want to run it. And expand it. Do work in the other logging companies too. It won't cost that much to operate, and I think it could show $50k profit. More if I got into other logging firms. I want to show you that I made a good deal, and that I can run a business. Maybe later, I could give it to the kid who thought it up, but learning how to do what you do on a small scale like this will help me. Taxes, hiring people, insurance, all the stuff that has to be done to succeed."

"And the boy who came up with this. Will he be a problem? He isn't family I hope."

"No sir, to both. His name is Carter Boyd."

A member of the Boyd family. Mostly good people. "And how much did it cost you to get him to give you this idea?"

Landon breathed again as he handed the contract to his father. It only took a minute to read it, and then he saw something he rarely ever did. His father smiled. At him.

"He gives you blowjobs?"

"Yes sir. He thinks that your acceptance of this idea means that you will give him $50,000 to get this started, but that isn't what the contract says. I'll hire him, but he will work for me."

"Not getting what he expects," his father mused. "Will that be a problem?"

"It will be my problem if it is one. But he signed the contract..."

"Contracts signed by minors are not enforceable," his dad stated.

"True, but he doesn't have enough money to go to hire a lawyer. Besides, he won't want everyone in town to know that he gave me a blowjob and promised me more. I think he'll be pissed, but there isn't much he can do about it."

"I hope you are right. If not, you'd better have a plan for dealing with any problems before you involve me. What if he enters MAC Day and wins enough money to start this?"

"He hated to even suck my dick. He flat out stated he would never compete to win any of the prizes. I guess the worse would be I'd have to let him do it. Make him a co-owner, or something. I'll cross that bridge if necessary."

His dad nodded. "Okay, good job. And you stood up to me for a change. Maybe you are growing up." He handed the folder back. "Tell him it is approved."

"Thanks Dad," Landon said sincerely. "I promise, this will work out. I might be creating an enemy, but a toothless one. You've done the same."

"That I have, son. I have indeed." He watched his son turn and leave. The boy's head was high, and his steps quick and measured. He wasn't slouched over as he had been so many times in the past. It was one of the few times he actually felt proud of Landon, and the boy's posture showed that he knew it.

Andy Dunn (12) -- 30 Days Before The MAC

Early in the evening that same day, Tom Dunn asked Andy to join him out on the front porch with his youngest son, 10-year-old Ricky. Andy could see Ricky looked reluctant when he sat next to his younger brother on the old swing glider. Tom Dunn smiled reassuringly at his youngest boy.

"Don't look so worried Tiger. You're not in trouble. I just wanted to have a little chat."

It was an unfortunate use of words as far as young Ricky was concerned. A "little chat" with dad often left him with a very sore bottom, but he relaxed a little due to the presence of his older brother. He had always relied on Andy if there were ever trouble with bullies at school or in the neighborhood.

"I assume you know about MAC Day and what happens there?"

"Yes, a bit," the youngster answered, unsure if this was a trick question to get him to reveal knowledge he shouldn't have. But he knew stuff. He'd overheard his brothers talk about it in their bedroom when they thought he was asleep. And it was a topic of conversation with some of the kids in his class. And then there was Tony Kelly's big brother, Bill. He knew about him a bit.

"Good," said his dad. "That will make things a little easier. However, I'm going to tell you more details. Some of it you may know, but some... well..."

Andy didn't feel inclined to interrupt his dad's flow, and Ricky had turned red. He knew the MAC was about sex, but a lot of the details still alluded him.

"You know that "MAC" is short for the Horace Mackey Awards Ceremony Day."

"I know about that Horace guy," Ricky cut in happily. "We learned about him in school. He was a super-rich dude who built the big house on the hill, where the town offices are now. He died like a hundred years ago, but he didn't have any kids and he left all his money to the town. So, he's sorta like a local hero, like George Washington or something. Didn't he find a bunch of gold? Some kids reckon he did."

"No," answered Tom Dunn with a laugh. "That's one of those perennial tall tales that seem to swirl about the history of that man. As best I can recall, Horace died in 1935, but he did make a pile of money as an oil wildcatter in Texas in the 1890s I think. And he did have the mansion built. He also set up the Trust that still provides money for the town. And it's the Trust that provides the money for the prizes for the boys who take part at the MAC."

"I heard those kids get money and a bunch of other stuff."

"That's right. The ceremony is held each year on the first Saturday in August over at the Show Pavilion in the grounds of the old Horace Mackey mansion. But not everyone can go. It's only open to boys between the ages of 11 to 17. So, there's no girls, no adults, and no little kids there."

"I'm not a little kid," Ricky said defensively.

"Of course you're not. And next year you'll be allowed to go to MAC Day with your two brothers. But MAC Day is run by the Boys Council - the B.C. You've heard of them, I guess?

"Ricky nodded his head. He'd heard of the B.C., but they mostly did stuff with the older kids as far as he knew.

"Well, they have a rule that you have to have turned 11-years-old before you can go. Sim couldn't go last year, but he's 11 now and so he can this time."

As Ricky didn't comment further, Tom Dunn continued. "At the MAC Awards there are three prizes to the boys in each of the three age groups who want to take part. There are prizes for the 11-year-olds, the 12-year-olds, and the 13-year-olds. I'm telling you all this because your brother Andy here, has signed-up for the ceremony this year.

Ricky was surprised. As far as he knew, Andy and Sim had never spoken of that before.

"Don't the boys who win them prizes become the Tailers?" asked Ricky. He knew this because his best buddy Tony Kelly's brother was one. Other boys came around to their house, according to Tony, and did sex stuff with his brother. Tony had suggested they spy on them one day, but they hadn't done it yet.

"Yes, that's right. In order to get the prizes, the boys agree to be Tailers for two years."

"What prizes do they get?"

"There's a lot of prizes really. First, all boys who sign up get paid $1,000. The first-place winner in each age group gets paid $330 per week until their 18th birthday. The parents receive $300 of the money, with no restrictions on how it is spent, and the boy gets the remaining $30. In addition, when the boy turns 18, they are given $50,000 in cash, or granted a full scholarship to any of the approved colleges or trade schools they choose. And finally, after they reach 21, they become entitled to low interest loans from the trust to either buy a house or establish a business. There are less, but still enticing rewards for the boys who finish in second and third place."

"Wow!" Ricky exclaimed. "That's a lot of stuff." He could understand the money. He knew that $330 a week was a lot. Even $30 was much more than the lousy pocket-money they got now. He wondered if Andy might give him some money if he was getting $30 per week. He looked over at his brother who hadn't said a word so far.

"So Andy, you okay with doing sex stuff with the boys that come around like Tony Kelly's brother, Bob?"

Andy went an extreme shade of red before replying. "Yeah, I guess," he mumbled softly.

"Okay, as long as you like it, it's okay with me. Tony's okay with his brother doing it. His brother gives him money sometimes to stay out of their room."

Andy looked at his father, uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. "May I leave now, dad?"

Tom chuckled at Andy's discomfort. "This is something you are going to have to get used to, son."

To be continued...

Andy looked back to see his dad engaged in conversation with an animated Ricky before he headed inside.

Here is a list of major characters who will appear in the Alan's Beach story:

Andrew (Andy) Dunn, 12 years old. He is tall for his age at 5 foot, 7 inches and has a thin build. He has dark brown, almost black, unruly hair, olive skin, hazel eyes, and strong facial features. He has decent upper-body strength from helping his dad out on his boat.

Simon (Sim) Dunn, 11 years old brother of Andy. He has similar brown hair and hazel eyes to his older brother.

Richard (Ricky) Dunn, 10 years old. Youngest brother of Andy and Sim. Ricky shares many character traits with his two brothers and has the same olive complexion and dark brown, unruly hair.

Carter Boyd, 13 years old. Carter is from the poorer side of town, although mostly he is a happy and energetic boy. He loves tinkering with stuff and is often called upon by other kids to fix things they broke. He has darker skin and black hair from his mother, who is of Italian parentage. He is tall for his age at 5 foot, 3 inches and skinny at 100 lbs, traits he inherited from his dad

Landon Kelly, 13, years old. Landon is the son of one of the wealthier members of Alan's Beach. His father owns Kelly Logging, a significant company and a major employer in the area. He inherited his father's light complexion and red hair, something he wishes he didn't have. but in other aspects of his physical appearance, he was a typical 13-year-old boy at 5-foot, 1 inch tall and 100 lbs. in weight His personality sets him apart from his peers. Known for being rude, he is not popular at school. He had a well-established reputation for being rude, untrustworthy, argumentative and arrogant. He was not popular at school..

Scott Mackey, 12 years old. Scott is from a wealthy family and he is popular, but lazy. He is a slightly pudgy kid with light brown hair and green eyes. His dad, Scott Mackey, Senior, is the current mayor of Alan's Beach. In order to please his father, Scott has to maintain a high grade-point average to ensure he will get in to his dad's alma mater. But that requires effort, something he is allergic to. Good looking and always dressed in fine clothes, he avoids pickup games where he might get sweaty or dirty.

Colton Mackey Jr., 14 years old. Colton is the oldest of the six sons of Colton Mackey, Senior. When his dad isn't around, Colton steps up to keep his brothers in line. Tough and often mean, he doesn't put up with back talk from his brothers or other kids, and has won enough fights that he is rarely ever challenged now. Colton is a current Tailer at Alan's Beach.

Tim McCoy, 12 years old. Tim is Andy Dunn's best friend and his campaign manager. Tim was a nerdy sort of bean-pole looking kid with thick glasses and clothes that always hung so loosely, they appeared ready to fall off completely at any moment. But Tim was not stupid and could see himself as others saw him. He was a loyal friend and should never be underestimated.

Shane O'Brien, 11 years old. Shane is a red-cheeked pale boy, with a strong build and an infectious cheeky personality. He made friends easily and always stood up for himself and his kin. Shane lives with his older brother and mother in their grandparents' home. His family immigrated to America, specifically Allan's Beach, from Ireland when his dad died in a construction accident. Coming from the Gaeltacht regions, where Irish is the primary language and English the secondary one, he and his brother are comfortable using either.

Ronan O'Brien, 14 years old. Ronan is a chatty boy that quickly wears on even the kids who have befriended him. Pale skin and freckles are his main features. His red hair has gone a bit darker as he entered puberty, but is still very noticeable.

Fred (Curly) Flynn, 13 years old. Curly got his nickname from the well-furled locks of hair that stuck out in all directions. As a young kid, it had been red, but now was a reddish-brown. Auburn, his mom calls it. That and "Messy and uncontrolled." He is the middle child between two sisters.

Clyde (Rock) McGill, 13 years old. Rock feels like a mid-teen stuck in a boy's body. He had entered puberty early, and by the time he was eleven he knew that his dick was something to be proud of, unlike his body. He was slightly shorter and weighed less than most of his peers. But his thick, black hair and bushy black eyebrows were soon added to by the hair he grew around his dick

Hank Boyle, 12 years old. Hank is 12 years and six months old, and a little short for his age at 4 feet 8 inches tall and 85 lbs. But he couldn't be described as puny. Hank had an olive complexion, and stunning slightly wavy blond hair. He is considered by many to be a decent kid who plays by the rules. He is the 2nd cousin of Andrew Dunn.

Mason McGill, 11 years old. Mason's light brown hair is kept cut close to his scalp to separate him from his 1st cousin, Levi. Other than that, they both looked close to the same. Average height and weight, with slim but strong bodies. Mason's family is upper middle class, a step above his cousin.

Levi McGill, 11 years old. Smooth-talking and likeable, Levi has lots of friends. But his raven black curly hair and piercing brown eyes made him stand out from the crowd. He has an innate ability to charm anyone. Levi knows he is superior to Mason in most regards, but the one he lacked bothered him. Mason's father, his Uncle Theo, had entered the MAC Day Celebration back when he was twelve, just as Grandpa Thom had. And he'd finished in second place in the voting. As a result, Mason's family was a lot better off than his. Not that he was poor, but he was jealous of his cousin.

Tyler McGill, 11 years old. A distant cousin of Levi and Mason, Tyler runs in different circles. He is a friendly, good-natured kid, but like all boys his age, he is starting to experience new feelings and thoughts.

Maxwell (Max) McGill, 14 years old. The older brother of Tyler, he is near the end of his two years as a Tailer, having taken part in MAC Day when he was twelve, finishing in 3^rd place.

Jason McGill, 10 years old. The younger brother of Tyler, Jason is a rough and tumble kid who never seems to have a cloudy day.

Billy O'Brien, 12 years old

Billy is a likeable kid, one who played hard but never took advantage of others. Basically shy, the slender boy keeps mostly to himself.

Sam McGill, 12 years old

Sam is a tall, long-legged kid going through an awkward growth period. Not totally shy in general, but his current spurt seems to have forgotten to include his privates. While not afraid to skinny dip with his friends and cousins the year before, he is now very self-conscience - convinced that his lanky body and skinny legs made his privates look even less developed than they really were.