AGAINST THE LAW. (PART 3) by Ganymede


WARNING:

This story contains a graphic description of sexual acts between a man 
and a MINOR boy. I do not condone child abuse, however boy-love as described 
in this story is an entirely different matter. This is the third part of a 
multi-part story.  Please note that for personal reasons, Part 2 has not, 
and will not be made available to the public.

If the subject of man/boy sex offends you, if this material is illegal 
in your place of residence, or if you are under the legal age for such 
material, do not read further! You have been warned! Read at your own risk!

The story is copyrighted under the pseudonym, Ganymede. A single copy 
has been placed in the Nifty archives. Feel free to post it to appropriate 
newsgroups or send it to your friends. If distributing my story for monetary 
gain, please contribute funds to a charitable organization providing 
services for boys.

The story is fiction. Any resemblance to any individual, alive or 
dead, is unfortunate.


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FINAL WARNING:

If you are under the age of 18, if this material is illegal in your 
place of residence, or if man-boy relationships aren't your thing, then exit 
now and save yourself from a life of sin!


AGAINST THE LAW. (Part 3) by Ganymede



Chapter 6. Home Again



"Mom!" Phillip shrieked. 

He dropped his bag and bolted, neatly sidestepping two old ladies as 
he covered the twenty feet that separated them. He rushed into her arms, his 
own arms wide apart to embrace her. Smiling, I bent down and picked the bag up 
before continuing through the doorway that opened into the lounge. A dozen 
people followed me from the first-class section, and behind them came a 
horde of noisy tourists laden with duty-free rum, straw hats, and cartons of 
cigarettes.

I walked up to them, feeling slight envious. Of Phillip? Of his 
mother? I could not decide, but for the moment I was the stranger. Sadly I 
wondered whether the bonds between mother and son were stronger and more 
enduring than any that I would form with the boy I had come to love. I hoped 
not, yet I suspected it to be true despite what Phillip and I felt about 
each other.

"Just look at you, Honey!" Kathleen crooned. "You must have grown an 
inch or more!"

I smiled. Phillip hadn't grown an inch, or even half an inch, but he had 
lost a few pounds and found some self esteem. 

"And your tan is something else! My, you're so brown," she added happily.

"Hello Kathleen," I interrupted.

Kathleen scowled while Phillip beamed. He was as happy as I had ever 
seen him. He was with the two people he loved. "I had a great time, Mom. You 
wouldn't believe the things we did."

Kathleen gave me another quick glance. Sour, suspicious, resentful as 
she imagined the 'the things we did'. I glared back at her, not yielding an 
inch. 

"We went scuba diving, Mom. There was a coral reef and a bazillion fish, 
and I saw this huge stingray. And we went wind surfing every day. I can just 
about get it to stand up all the time now, but tipping it over is fun too, and 
we went horse riding all the time, usually down to this little beach on the 
other side of the island, and,..."

"For Heaven's sake, Phillip!" Kathleen started to laugh. Her fingers 
stroked through Phillip's hair. "Your hair is so much lighter."

"It's the sun and salt," I explained. "It seemed like he was never out 
of the water except to sleep and eat."

Again she looked at me. I could sense her filling in my words, 'except 
to sleep, and eat, and have sex.' However, it was true and I wondered what I 
would say if she chose to confront me. For a lawyer I was far too honest. I 
could not deny that my love for Phillip had more than an emotional outlet. 
However, this time she smiled. 

"It's good to see you again, Mr. Young. I gathered you were able to 
get away after I didn't hear from you for a while. I was worried of course, 
but it sounds like you had a wonderful time, Phillip," she added pointedly 
as she looked at her son.

"Mom, it was ab-sol-lute-ly in-cred-ible," Phillip gushed loudly.

Kathleen laughed. "I believe you. You're so brown, I'm jealous. Did 
you behave yourself?"

"He's a great kid, Kathleen," I said as I watched her hand continue to 
stroke her son's shoulders. Certainly, I could possess his body and even 
become important to him, but in some ways he would never be mine. "You 
should be proud of him."

"A lot happened here," Kathleen said obscurely as her voice lowered. 
"The police came to the house just about every day. They visited my mother 
as well." She paused. "I wasn't happy about your plan at first,... but,... 
now, well I have to say I'm glad you took Phillip with you." She looked at 
Phillip fondly. "That man, the one you said was the prosecutor, the 
Assistant DA in the other trial, the one for Doctor Chalmers,... he came the 
next day. He,..."

"Skolnicki came to the house?"

"Yes, that's his name. He's exactly what you'd expect from a Jewish 
lawyer!"

I shuddered. Two of my best associates were Jewish and both of them 
defied the stereotype. "Skolnicki's a pig. He'd be same if he was Buddhist."

"I hate him! I swear if I had a gun,... I'd,..."

Kathleen took a deep breath as she remembered what had happened. She 
sniffed, barely able to hold back tears.

"It's over now," I said gently. "He won't bother us again."

"He said things,... he said Phillip was hustling men in the toilet for 
money,... That's how he met Doctor Chalmers,... and," Kathleen said 
abruptly. She swivelled around as someone passed closely behind her. When 
she turned back she gave a weak smile and shrugged. "I hope I never see him 
again."

"I didn't do anything for money!" Phillip interjected. "I was kicked and 
he was trying to help me,... and,..."

"I know you didn't, and you won't hear from him ever again! I know why 
you were there, Phillip, and it wasn't for money. Now that he lost the case 
he'll crawl back into his hole," I said confidently.

We started walking, Phillip occupying the both the physical and 
emotional space between us. We shared him, no longer squabbling possessively 
like two dogs over a bone. Instinctively we realized that his welfare and 
happiness were common purposes. He bubbled, secure in our mutual love and glad 
to be home. 

It took a few minutes to walk to the car. Kathleen had driven her own 
car to the airport and we crowded into the Plymouth, the trunk and half of the 
rear seat being full of the last of their belongings from the trailer they 
once called home. 

"You should have brought my car," I laughed as I balanced a box of 
Phillip's clothes from a past life on my knees. It was an odd assortment, 
all from discount and thrift stores and cheaply made at that.

"Driving it would make me so nervous," Kathleen admitted.

"Not the 150, the other car."

"Oh! I'm sorry. They both scare me to death. And that other Jaguar 
must be so expensive. It must be worth a fortune. I drove it one time. It's so 
powerful it frightened me. Anyway, I thought I'd drop by and get the last of 
our things while I was over this way. It's a long drive and I've already 
made six trips so far this week. I'm so glad to be out of that dump. I hope 
you don't mind that I brought my car," she explained.

"No problem, Kathleen! I think I understand. It's difficult driving 
someone else's car. Driving this car would make me as nervous as hell," I 
joked.

We exited the parking garage and pulled onto the road. The Plymouth 
coughed as it began to accelerate. There was a disconcerting squeal from the 
front that sounded a lot like a wheel bearing was being ground into dust. I 
shuffled some of the clothes aside, shocked by the poverty that had been 
part of Phillip's life before I came along. The clothes were worn, even the 
elastic in his white cotton underpants was ragged and nearly without 
stretch. They owned nothing of value. We picked up speed as we came to the on-
ramp to the freeway. 

"I've got to get this fixed soon," Kathleen said apologetically as the 
steering wheel began to dance and vibrate noisily. "It seems to be getting 
worse."

I smiled as I touched Phillip's high-waisted underpants. They were white 
and boring, and so different to the sensuous boy who had once filled them. Now 
he was wearing a Speedo under his shorts. It was the one piece of clothing 
we had purchased while we were away. It was only the second or third time he 
had worn it. Daringly low cut and brilliant red with a black cord, it fitted 
his deeply tanned body like a glove, a very sexy glove at that because it 
emphasized the very places it purported to cover.

The car shuddered as she braked to avoid an eighteen wheeler, the poor 
acceleration preventing her from entering the stream of fast moving traffic. 
It was all I could do not to laugh despite the seriousness of the situation. 
Phillip's life was at stake every time he rode in it.

"It certainly sounds like it needs a lot of work," I ventured. I tried 
not to sound sarcastic and yet Kathleen still gave me a scowling sideways 
glance.

I glanced out the window, making my decision on the spur of the moment 
when I saw the sign passing. "Take the next exit, the one going south," I said 
abruptly.

"What? Why the next exit? The car sounds worse than it is. We'll make it 
to your place okay."

"Trust me, Kathleen," I laughed.

"What's up?" Phillip demanded from the back seat.

"Nothing. We're just making a detour for a few minutes, that's all."

A minute later we stopped at the traffic light. Ahead was City 
Chevrolet.

"Where to now?" Kathleen asked innocently.

"Over there," I gestured. "The sign says that the dealership has a 
sale on mini-vans."



The salesman was typical. They must have spent months and thousands of 
dollars training him to 'suck up' to the customer, yet the fact was that he 
was already genetically predisposed to be obnoxious. I quickly discovered that 
the 'sale' covered only three vehicles, of which one had been used for 
demonstrations and the other two were boring. My colors of choice were red and 
black, exactly like Phillip's bikini-Speedo. The only van that met my 
expectations was in the showroom--bright red with black pinstriping. It came 
fully optioned with over-sized wheels, a five-speaker 80-watt stereo, built-in 
television, electric sunroof, all-wheel drive, and black leather seats, the 
rear being convertible to a bed. A brief review of the VIN plate told me it
was last year's model.

"Get in the driver's seat and try it out, Phillip," I suggested.

He grinned as he climbed onto the running board. He slid into the deep 
bucket and braced his arms as he held the sports steering wheel.

"Cool!"

For a few seconds as I gazed at his slender brown legs and half-
covered thighs, I fantasized that he was naked, or at least dressed only in 
his Speedo. I imagined the soft leather graced by his bare, sun-bronzed 
skin, skin that was so soft that the seat paled in comparison. His sun-
bleached hair glistened against the head rest. Three weeks earlier he was 
absolutely beautiful, now he was completely off the scale.

"Do you like it?" I asked.

Phillip nodded eagerly. His mother looked at me suspiciously and then 
stepped back as the salesman approached. 

"The sticker says twenty-eight," I said as I turned to face him. 
"Let's skip the usual nonsense. I'll write a check right now for twenty-three. 
It's last year's model."

"Twenty-three?" the salesman repeated. "Sir, this is a fully optioned 
model. I'm sure we can get a similar van for you without some of the options 
for twenty five thousand."

"No, I think the driver wants this van," I said with a smile.

His eyes flickered with interest as he glanced at the 'driver'. Phillip
beamed at him, flashing perfectly white teeth. He was hard to resist
with his golden tan and sparkling hair. He radiated an allure that was
intended to seduce while pretending innocence.

"We could come down a bit,... maybe two thousand dollars," the salesman said 
hesitantly. "And there is a special manufacturer's discount with three percent 
financing."

"I'll pay cash, so I'm not interested. Twenty two thousand, take it or 
leave it," I answered. "Why don't you go ask your manager?" I suggested.

"You just said twenty-three."

"The price is dropping every minute. I'm a busy man." 

"Um,... do you have a trade-in?"

I glanced at Kathleen. "The Plymouth outside. Don't bother taking it for 
a test drive. It's headed for the junk pile if we leave here in the van. 
It's not worth the time waiting for you to appraise it for $99."

The salesman shrugged and trotted off, leaving us alone. I could tell 
that Kathleen was fuming. "It's a present," I began.

"A present or a payoff?" she demanded under her breath as she glanced at 
Phillip.

"Both!" I answered honestly. "I owe you a lot. I owe both of you a lot." 

Our eyes met, both oblivious to Phillip's presence as he continued to 
play with the wheel. I felt her anger growing. We were competitors. I knew 
we would have to become friends or I stood a good chance of Phillip. That much 
had been painfully obvious at the airport. In a matter of minutes I had felt 
my power over him waning as soon as he saw his mother. Although for very 
different reasons, my three weeks with him accounted for nothing compared to 
the ten years he had spent with her. As we stared at each other I wondered 
whether there always had to be winners and losers. As a criminal lawyer 
there was no other outcome. I had to win. I lived to win and I knew I could 
not stand to lose Phillip. Neither did I want to change my position. If he 
died in a car crash I would still lose him.

"What do you mean it's a present?" Phillip asked again as he looked up 
from the instruments.

"Huh?" I turned back to the van, barely aware that he had asked me the 
same question a few seconds earlier. "I'm giving it to you and your mom," I 
explained.

Kathleen shrugged. "He's buying it for you, Phillip. I think you know 
why!" I shuddered. "I'm sure you've earned it!" she added snidely.

Phillip's happiness evaporated.



The trip home began unpleasantly despite the vast increase in comfort 
and the intoxicating new car smell. Kathleen refused to drive at first. She 
yielded only after Phillip glared sulkily at her with a look that conveyed his 
extreme displeasure. We were on the freeway and halfway home before she 
relented. 

"Ah?" A sideways glance and a shy smile greeted me as I turned to face 
her. "It's really nice," Kathleen began awkwardly.

"Like I said earlier, I owe you a lot, Kathleen," I said quietly. "I was 
being honest when I said I owe both of you."

"He loves you," she mumbled.

"It's mutual you know," I replied simply.

"I know that. I'm happy,... for him,... I'm happy for both of you."

"I'm sorry about the other car. I really acted like an ass, didn't I? 
I couldn't stand to see either of you in a car wreck and know that I could 
have prevented it."

"I'm not sorry! It was a real bomb!" Kathleen laughed. "I could hardly 
get it started today.... I was so worried I'd get there late and find you'd 
taken a taxi. Thank you! Thank you for everything."

"You're not angry any more, Mom?" Phillip interjected.

Kathleen laughed again. "Angry? Me? No! But spending twenty two thousand 
dollars like that? Heavens, I've never had that much money. And for a car? And 
he paid cash! I've never known anyone who has paid cash for a new car."

"It's a van, Mom! It's a really cool van," Phillip gushed effusively.

I twisted in my seat and looked at the boy behind me. He grinned, his 
white teeth sparkling. I winked, playful yet sexually suggestive. Already he 
was used to meeting my unspoken desires. We communicated on a plane that did 
not require words. How often had we found ourselves thinking the exact same 
thoughts? He raised an eyebrow with a hint of smile. His eyes lifted, checking 
out his mother's view in the rear vision mirror. His hand dropped onto his 
left knee. I smiled and nodded slightly, signaling encouragement. His 
fingers crept slowly backwards, tracing a slender brown thigh as he 
deliberately teased me. For a moment he toyed with the hem of his faded 
shorts, his finger nails scratching at the cloth. His eyes flickered upward, 
then he winked crudely. In an instant his hand was in his lap and his 
fingers were brushing over the small mound of his crotch. 

I felt a weird thrill as he touched that part of his perfect body, a 
place that I had come to know well during the weeks we were together. I wanted 
to see him naked more than I could stand. I wanted to see his small sex 
begin to grow, reaching out proudly until it attained maximum stiffness. For 
several minutes all I saw was a slight increase in size, a minor change in 
shape, a hint of the stiffening that was occurring underneath the blue 
denim. I watched him rearrange his boy-sized member when it finally attained 
full size. It was still small, yet more than stiff enough to lift his clothing 
out and make a visible bulge as it poked proudly upward. I suspected that it 
was uncomfortably restrained by his Speedo. I imagined its satin sheath 
covering the sweaty moistness of his swollen sex, smooth silky skin longing to 
be caressed. Phillip grinned at me and slid his hand into his right pocket 
so that he could continue out-of-sight. His eyes were half-closed as he 
concentrated. Unseen, his fingertips reached through the hole we had created 
during the flight from Mexico. He smiled and I knew he touched his glans, 
now protruding like a ripe red cherry beyond his low-cut Speedo. He smiled 
again as he squeezed and began to rub slowly, teasing the sensitive tip the 
same way that I did. When I did it, his penis flexed and became even harder. I 
sensed from the satisfied smile of Phillip's face that it was straining hard 
to escape the cord that secured his Speedo. 

"Is it good to back home again, Honey?" Kathleen asked.

"Uh huh,... it feels real good," Phillip said hesitatingly. His eyes met 
mine, dancing with merriment and crude delight.

"Um,... I've put most of your things in the room next to his. Is that 
okay?"

The question hung in the air as Phillip and I shared a surprised look. 
We had shared the same bed every night for three weeks. Now we were 
accomplished lovers we expected to continue the practice every night. There 
was a long silence.

"I guess I don't think it would look right if Phillip slept in your 
room," Kathleen added awkwardly. 

"I understand," I acknowledged. 

Phillip's lips pursed. He was caught in a difficult position. Sooner 
or later his mother would have to release her maternal hold on him. If she had 
her way it would be several years from now.

"Of course, I also expect you'll want to keep Phillip close to you 
from now on."

I smiled. 'Close' was a gross understatement of what I wanted, and of 
what I had become accustomed to while Phillip and I were together. "Yes," I 
answered simply.

"The apartment over the garage would be way too small for both of us 
anyway," Kathleen admitted awkwardly. "I know he needs privacy, uh,. a place 
to call his own,... He'll be more comfortable in the house."

She was trying hard to deal with my relationship with her son. It was 
difficult for her. Her voice was very stressed. She was giving ground, 
yielding both her pride and her son, and entrusting him to me to love and 
nurture into adulthood. It was a responsibility I relished.

"Now that I'm Phillip's guardian, I'll have to be a mature and 
responsible role model for him, won't I?" I suggested lightheartedly.

"Yes, you will. Especially with the sleeping arrangements the way they 
are."

"I'd never do anything to hurt him, Kathleen."

"I know that. Otherwise I would never have allowed him to go away with 
you in the first place. I don't know why, but I trusted you the moment I 
first met you."

"He wouldn't hurt me, ever, Mom," Phillip interjected in an unbroken, 
almost falsetto squeak. 

Kathleen smiled at her son's assurance and glanced in the rear vision 
mirror. "There are different kinds of hurt, Honey. If you do things you 
don't want to do, you're being hurt."

"He didn't make me do anything while we were away," Phillip blurted 
out aggressively. "I wanted to do everything. I'm not ashamed that we had 
sex together."

I swallowed and held my tongue as Phillip rushed to my defence. Sooner 
or later Kathleen had to realize how much he loved me.

"Yes, I expect you did, Phillip," she answered. "But it's so easy to 
be overwhelmed when you're young and inexperienced. Before you know it, you 
can taken advantage of by someone, especially when he's rich and 
sophisticated."

"I'm not overwhelmed by him, okay. I love him, Mom. And he didn't take 
advantage of me."

I breathed out, more in love than ever before with my loyal Phillip. 
"Kathleen," I began patiently. I needed to put the brakes on what had a strong 
likelihood of getting out of control. It would take time for her to get used 
to my relationship with her son. 

Kathleen glanced sideways at me. "Don't worry, Paul. I'm not about to 
stop Phillip from sleeping with you. I just have to know it's what he wants."

"It's what I want, Mom," Phillip interjected from behind her. "I've 
never been this happy before."

"You're in love, Phillip. That's why. I knew it when I saw the two of 
you together outside the courtroom. It wouldn't be fair for me to try to 
stop you from being lovers,... even if I could,... I'm not sure I'd want to."

"Love doesn't come along that often for men like me," I said 
seriously. "When it does, I have to take advantage of it or spend the rest 
of my life being lonely."

"I never thought of it like that," Kathleen admitted. "It can't be 
easy being a boy lover. They're boys for such a short time, aren't they?"

"It doesn't last long at all," I agreed sadly. "Phillip and I have to 
fit a lifetime into a few years."

"What happens when he grows up? Will you still love him?"

I glanced over the seat at Phillip. We had a few good years before he 
was devastated by the ravages of adolescence. I doubted that he would be 
attracted to the opposite sex, but it was still too soon to tell. He would 
begin to change rapidly when puberty started. Then I could count the remaining 
time in a matter of a year or two. At best we had four good years, although we 
might continue to love each other and live together for a long while after 
that. I hoped so. Without Phillip, I would die.

"Yes," I smiled. "I'll love him then too."

"What do you mean, when I grow up? What happens?"

"You won't be a boy any longer so he won't want to have sex with you," 
Kathleen answered.

"Your mom's right. You won't be a boy for more than a few years. Our 
feelings for each other will start to change as you get older. I'm attracted 
to you because you're a beautiful young boy. When you're a teenager and as big 
as I am, I won't feel the same when I touch you. It's very likely we won't 
have sex when you're all grown up. However, I'll always love you and I'll 
think of you the way you are now," I said gently as I met Phillip's eyes.

"I'll always love you too, Paul," Phillip said demurrely. "I'll never 
stop loving you."

"Well, I'm glad that's settled," Kathleen teased. "I guess you two 
love birds can't wait to get home again."

I grinned at Phillip. "More or less," I admitted.

"More!" Phillip grinned back.

"Somehow, I'm not surprised." She paused. "Phillip, I want you to 
understand something," Kathleen began with less confidence than a minute 
earlier. I could tell what she was about to say was very difficult for her. "I 
put your things in the room next to his for one reason. I don't mind if you 
sleep with him whenever you want. I really don't care if you're in his bed 
every night. I think that's your business and no one else's. However, most 
people wouldn't agree with me. Most people would be very angry."

"I know it's against the law for us to be in love, Mom."

I stepped in to correct his apparent misunderstanding of the relevant 
state statutes. "That's not what the law says, Phillip. It's illegal for me to 
have sex with you. It's okay for us to love each other. We just can't make 
love. There's a big difference."

"The law is dumb! It doesn't make any sense. If I love you then why 
not?"

"We can't change the law, Phillip. However, we can take some precautions 
and not go looking for trouble. I think that's what your mom is saying."

Kathleen glanced again in my direction. "It's even more than that, Paul. 
Phillip needs to live a life like other boys. He needs to have friends his own 
age. It would look strange to say the least if you didn't have your own 
bedroom when they came to visit, wouldn't it Phillip?" she explained. 

I nodded at Phillip. She was right, of course. By necessity, the 
intimacy that Phillip and I shared would have to be a closely guarded 
secret. In private we would be lovers, yet he should also have friends his own 
age. In that respect, I wanted him normal. Indeed, a veil of normalcy would be 
the key to keeping our relationship hidden from others.

"I s'pose. But I can sleep in Paul's bed when I want, can't I?" 
Phillip asked anxiously.

"If he wants you to. Honey, remember what I said right before you 
left? What you do is your decision." Kathleen laughed. "Besides, like I said 
earlier, I'm not sure I could do anything to stop you."



Chapter 7. The Crime of Loving a Boy



I knew Kathleen was standing in the doorway. This time she watched us 
openly, making no pretense to avoid being seen. She used a towel to dry a 
wineglass with careful movements of her hand. It was very expensive crystal 
that flashed and sparkled as she polished the brilliant surfaces. For the 
moment I ignored her. Sooner or later we would talk about what she saw. For 
now, it was enough that she was a silent witness.

It had been an interesting dinner, especially prepared to welcome us 
home. Kathleen's culinary skills, previously directed to hamburger and chicken 
thighs, were challenged by cooking filet mignon, but they were more than 
adequate to the task. I took pains to compliment her, and not just as her 
new employer. In a way that I had never thought possible, I wanted her 
understanding and acceptance simply because Phillip needed both of us. We were 
a family of sorts and already we were settling into an strange familiarity. 
Like Phillip, Kathleen was coming quickly to like her new life. I had no doubt 
that Phillip was also enamored of his new life-style. It was as if he had 
awaken one morning and discovered that he was a different person. In a space 
of a few minutes, while standing in a mall restroom the rest of his life had 
changed. I hoped for the better, but that was from my point of view. 

Kathleen's interest was more than casual as she observed us. I hoped she 
was no longer envious of my relationship with Phillip, knowing that the best I 
could hope for was that in time, she might even but accept me with only slight 
distaste. I was curious as to what would happen given that she had probably 
heard the course of our love earlier in the afternoon. I expected that her 
imagination had been able to fill in what she could not see. 

Earlier, an hour or two after lunch, Phillip and I sought privacy in our 
bedroom. While abstinence of nearly twenty four hours should have provide even 
greater impetus to our passion behind the closed door, he was tired. Still, he 
wanted to satisfy me and he sleepily rolled onto his belly, burying his face 
in the pillow. Phillip's gasps were muffled as he lay on the waterbed. His 
tender body was buffeted by feverish spasms as I grunted above him, yet he 
still found the strength to push his buttocks back against my straining pelvis 
with increasing ardor as the final moment approached. That it took us nearly 
forty minutes to reach the point of no return was the result of considerable 
practice. My seemingly endless need for sex was well matched by his capacity 
for love. He slept beside me until nearly five p.m.

Now, from the corner of my eye I watched her smile as she heard 
Phillip's appreciative sigh. I caressed him in an intimate gesture, my hand 
moving slowly from his tiny nipples across a soft rippling belly until I 
touched him in a place that was reserved for me alone. I leaned forward, 
positioning myself protectively so that he could not see her. Phillip's 
knees immediately moved apart, signalling willingness, encouraging further 
pleasuring of his body as he grinned up at me with shameless arousal. She 
did not need to see every detail to know what was happening. My hand stroked 
the heated mound in his sweat pants formed by a very erect boy-penis.

I saw Kathleen move cautiously back into the doorway, sensing that the 
moment was precious and she did not wish to disturb us. I suspected that 
Kathleen felt more like part of the furniture than the worried mother of seven 
hours ago. I wondered whether she would ever find the courage to approach 
us. I imagined that the detail of our lovemaking was not unlike what had 
been etched into her memory from her own experiences as a young girl with 
Phillip's father. In a way, my loving caress of Phillip's penis was no 
different to the entry of a man's finger between the small virgin lips of 
her vagina. A scratching fingernail touched a million nerve endings and evoked 
her first ecstatic groans of pleasure as he massaged her tiny bud for 
several torturing minutes. It was no different with Phillip as my fingers 
rubbed over his swollen little glans. I imagined that she was dry at first and 
the feelings bordered on unpleasant before the slippery juice oozed from her. 

Phillip began to writhe as my kneading fingers pushed harder against his 
inflexible shaft. He eagerly submitted to my caresses and offered his mouth 
ready for my kisses, obediently yielding to each unspoken request that I made. 
I leaned over the reclining half-naked boy, grasping his short hard shaft 
between two fingers and thumb, jacking his sensitive stiffness against the 
fleecy cloth as my little finger rubbed his shrivelled ball-sac. Smiling 
happily, Phillip's bare arms instinctively lifted up. For a few moments we 
gazed at each other, sharing innermost thoughts despite our silence. And 
then my head was pulled down by the slender arms that wrapped around my 
neck. At the same time, Phillip's small head lifted up, lips parting and 
offering his pink tongue to receive mine. 

Phillip was no stranger to what followed. He smiled happily as I 
beamed down at him. There was no need for him to show assent as my fingers 
moved to his waist and began to untie the cord that secured his sweat pants. 
As usual, he wanted to be naked as much as I wanted to undress him. He 
lifted his hips as the elastic waist band was pulled down to his knees. For an 
instant he wriggled his narrow pelvis in an effort to free his hardness. 
However, his rigid boy-member was caught and my strong hand slid underneath to 
grasp the blood-engorged shaft of his immature penis. Very hot, slightly 
moist, throbbing with life, easily fitting under my palm exactly as nature had 
intended. His scrotum was even hotter and the delicate skin melted around 
his bean-sized testicles. I carefully squeezed each sensitive egg between my 
fingers, eliciting immediate and powerful sensations as I began to massage his 
genitals. He released another sighed, louder as he reached up to pull my 
head forward one more time. He breathed into my mouth. It was the breathe of 
life itself. His tongue tickled my lips, invitingly and I felt him tremble 
as my tongue surged past his teeth and our lips sealed to hold my tongue 
inside him. My hand tightened, cupping the youngster's small genitals 
protectively and no longer inflicting discomfort. His raised his buttocks 
off the couch and pressed forcefully into my hand. We kissed, shamelessly 
exchanging saliva as I pressed down against him and forced my tongue towards 
the back of his mouth.

A minute later I eased away and my hand drifted away slowly, flowing 
along Phillip's bare flank to the hollow of his armpit. I tickled lightly 
and muted giggles came from the boy beneath me. My hand continued across his 
compact brown chest, playfully tweaking and massaging now-pointed nipples 
until Phillip squealed with delight. My hand moved on, and for a moment I 
fingered the necklace that adorned his slender neck. It was a motley 
assortment of beads centered on a shark's tooth, colors and sizes jumbled 
without apparent order, yet on the beautiful boy, it seemed very appropriate. 

His mother watched and I saw her smile in growing admiration. I smiled 
back, caressing her son's soft cheek before turning his head to the side. 
Nearly naked, Phillip radiated sex. The effect on me was clearly apparent to 
his mother. My body quivered with excitement as I worshipped her son's bare 
flesh. I barely found time to quickly rearrange my erection under my sweat 
pants before I leaned forward yet again. As I worked my fingers under 
Phillip's arms I licked his small ear, probing with my tongue and suckling 
on the soft lobe until Phillip commanded me to stop amid a fit of 
uncontrollable giggles.

"What are you waiting for?" Phillip demanded anxiously a few seconds 
later as he regained his composure. He had no idea his mother was watching 
from the doorway.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked teasingly.

"You can do whatever you want. You know that!" he whispered in my ear.

"Whatever I want, huh? I want to know what you want me to do."

"I want the same thing you want!" he said as he grinned. "I want to 
you to ef-ewe-sea-kay me," he spelled out gleefully.

I noted happily that Kathleen continued to smile even as her son's pants 
were dragged down from just above his knees all the way to his feet. She 
appeared to be interested, if not an accomplice. His suntanned legs were 
slender and hairless, and as the warm cloth was pulled hastily over his 
feet, I studied him. I was enraptured, just as I had been the first time I saw 
him. He was an intensely beautiful child, resplendent in his natural state. He 
was a glorious golden brown all over. Even with his child-sized sex organs, in 
my opinion he was extremely sexy. Perhaps it just as well that Kathleen saw 
us, I decided. Her lingering doubts about whether it was right or wrong 
would be dispelled if she saw how much we loved each other. She had to 
accept that I would be Phillip's lover until he was in his mid-teens. There 
had no other choice if we were to live in the same house.

She backed away a step or two, leaving me with the impression that she 
was guiltily aware that she was intruding on our privacy. She did not stop 
watching, visibly too interested to leave us alone. For three weeks I had 
worried endlessly, frequently thinking about her acceptance of what I took for 
granted. The sex act between man and boy had to bother her, yet it also seemed 
to fascinate her. Perhaps she derived a prurient satisfaction from Phillip's 
eager involvement for it was an obviously pleasurable act for both of us. 
Although she could not see it, the leaking dampness of pre-seminal juice in 
the crotch of my briefs was proof of my present arousal. She could see the 
stiffness in her son's crotch, leaving no doubt that he was a willing 
participant. As if by prior arrangement, Phillip stirred and groaned as he 
writhed under me. My desire was piqued and my hand drifted back towards his 
groin. I felt detached from reality. While I accepted society's right to 
condemn was I felt for Phillip, the very possibility that his mother could 
even begin to accept that her son and I could love each other as much any 
man and woman was reassuring.

I gazed at Phillip, feeling only love as I resisted the impulse to 
take his obstinate erection into my mouth. He was intensely aroused and his 
eyes flashed his uninhibited need. I knew I would not have long to wait before 
we were joined together. When Phillip was naked it seldom took long for us 
to start having sex. Usually I delayed, persisting with foreplay until we 
could no longer control our urges. Then we coupled with frantic urgency.

"Suck me!" he whispered.

"Not now!"

"Why not?"

"I want your ass first, lover-boy!" I demanded playfully as I squeezed 
his penis tightly in my fist. "I'll suck him before you go to sleep."

"I want you now."

"Your mom's watching us!" I whispered.

"Oh! Shit! Stop it!" he demanded anxiously.

"Don't worry. I think she heard us this afternoon. Anyway, she knows 
what we do together,.... she doesn't mind, Phillip," I said reassuringly.

"I didn't know she was there earlier," he muttered under his breath. 
He left the obvious unstated.

"She can always leave if she wants," I answered quietly. I sensed 
Phillip's reaction and I continued on quickly. "There's nothing for us to be 
ashamed about, especially now that we're home again. It's no secret that we 
love each other. Your mom's going to have to understand that we'll probably 
want to have sex a lot. We're rather like newly weds in that respect."

"I guess," Phillip ventured hesitantly. "Before dinner, while you were 
calling your office,... Mom asked me whether I loved you."

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her I did, of course. What do you think I'd say? We're only good 
friends?"

I grinned. "I think she already knows how we feel about each other. 
I'm sure one look at you at the airport was enough for her to figure it out. 
In fact, I'm surprised the hostess didn't say something."

Phillip looked up at me and grinned. "I do love you,.... I really really 
do, you know."

"I know that too," I said gently. "Because I love you back just as much. 
That's what being in love means."

"Let's go to bed," Phillip suggested suddenly. "Can we? Please?"

"Are you sleepy?"

"No! I just don't want her to see us doing it."

I shook my head slightly. "There's nothing to be ashamed about, 
Phillip," I said reassuringly. 

"I'm not ashamed!" he retorted. A moment later he relented with a shy 
smile. "She wasn't exactly angry when we talked about it. She asked if we 
had sex. When I said yes, I could tell she wasn't completely happy about it. 
She said she doesn't mind me having sex with you, if that's what I really 
want. She's just worried about me because she thinks I'm still a kid."

I nodded, leaving the obvious unsaid. At ten years old, Phillip was 
still a kid. That he was sexually active did not change that. 

"Come on lover boy," I smiled. "Let's go to bed."

We walked hand in hand from the living room, past Kathleen as she wished 
us good night. My arm was draped over Phillip's bare shoulder. For now at 
least, he belonged to me. My penis led the way, a proud soldier ready to do 
his duty as it pushed out a tent in my pants. She would have been blind not to 
see it. There was a wry look on her face. She winked as I turned to look back, 
if not of complete acceptance then at least of complicity. I stopped and 
waited, allowing his mother to seize the moment as she looked upon her naked 
offspring. He was radiant, brown and beautiful, yet it was more than the 
effect of sun alone. His inhibitions were all but gone as he paused and turned 
around. Like me he was aroused and his short erection pointed directly at 
his mother. A month ago he would not have dreamed of letting a female see 
him naked, let alone of allowing his mother to see his small, yet very stiff 
boyhood. However, he stopped beside me, confronting her face to face as he 
shamelessly displayed his endowment.

Three weeks had changed him dramatically, if not in size, then in 
stature. He stood beside me, proudly aware of his sexuality and the awesome 
power he wielded over me and glowing with self-esteem. That I worshipped her 
son, the once awkward boy who had been transformed miraculously into this 
beautiful naked godling was evident in my affirmative and possessive stance 
beside him.

"His thing is still so small. He's not even close to being mature, is 
he?" Kathleen observed pointedly.

I shrugged. "He's still got a few years before he starts puberty. It 
isn't all that important."

"I wouldn't have thought so. Still, he does have a nice body."

I smiled. "He's beautiful. Besides, he has a cute little butt, doesn't 
he?" I joked as I dropped my hand from Phillip's shoulder to his pert rump. 

"I guess men and boys have a different point of view of what's important 
when it comes to sex," Kathleen teased. She did not need to say more than 
that.

"You could say that," I replied.

Kathleen smiled and nodded. "He's so brown everywhere, even down 
there. Did you wear any clothes at all while you were away?" she asked 
Phillip.

Phillip grinned and shook his head. With even a cursory glance it was 
obvious from his golden tan that he had been naked most of the time we were 
away. His mother smiled again, appreciative that we shared a love that few 
people experienced. 

"I have to say this," Kathleen as we started to move again. Her voice 
was low and threatening. "If,.. if you ever hurt him, Paul. I'll kill you. 
No matter where you are, I'll find you. If he's willing, you can have sex with 
him as much as you want. Just don't hurt him."

I turned back to face her squarely. "I could never hurt him, Kathleen. 
I'd kill myself first before I allowed that to happen."

Phillip's mother nodded slightly. "Be gentle with him. In lots of ways 
he's still a little boy."

I closed the bedroom door after me even as Phillip's hand began to tug 
demandingly at my sweat pants. His thumbs slipped under the elastic waist, 
levering it down to my hips. There it stopped, stretched tightly. His 
anxious hands quickly moved to the front as he fumbled with the cord. Now that 
we were in private his urgency intensified, enhanced even further by the 
darkness that shrouded our intimacy. The only light came outside from 
moonlight beyond the large expanse of open window. Without curtains, the 
windows looked out onto the wooded glen and the creek. All that could be 
seen was the black silhouette of the trees against a silvery night sky. 
That, and the dark figure of a naked boy.

"I love you," I whispered as Phillip sank to his knees. 

He communicated his love without words as he reached up, his fingers 
clumsily endeavoring to untie the knot in the cord. Silently he pushed my t-
shirt up and began to nuzzle the bare skin of my belly with playful kisses. 
Then, as soon as his lips had traced a dry soft line to my navel, I felt the 
mushy wet warmth of his tongue slide around and into the depression as he 
began to lick. This was a new game for Phillip, although I practiced it on him 
every chance I got.

"You're beautiful," I murmured as I stroked Phillip's ears. "And I 
love you so much."

"I love you too," Phillip giggled as he lifted away from his self-
appointed task of anointing my penis with his saliva. "But you shouldn't tie 
knots in your sweat pants."

"Why?"

"'cause it's not fair if we both aren't naked," he admonished. 

"Oh, it sounds like a certain boy I know is feeling pretty horny 
tonight," I teased. "Do you want some help down there?"

"I don't need any help down here, or anywhere else for that matter," 
he rebuked. "There, I've got it."

He tugged down, dragging my sweatpants to my knees. Although I could not 
see his face, I knew what he was looking at, what he was thinking, what he was 
going to do. His tongue came first. Baby soft, wet, succulent, licking over my 
bulbous glans to taste my oozing juice. I felt him balk, the salty tang giving 
him cause for momentary uncertainty. However, it was a familiar taste and a 
flavor that he was beginning to savor. His tongue swiped back, crossing 
saliva-slicked flesh again as his lips stretched and his mouth opened wide 
to prevent his teeth from making contact. For a few seconds it felt as 
though a little rubber suction cup had been placed over the end of my penis. I 
felt him suck, stopping to push his saliva forward, opening wider to pull/push 
more of my penis into him. I held my position, waiting patiently for Phillip 
to decide how far he wanted to go. It was an unspoken rule. 

I felt the very tip of his tongue inquisitively probing into the slit at 
the end of my penis as if seeking out every trace of slimy lubricant. His 
steamy breath drifted across my groin as he exhaled and slowly eased another 
inch of my bulging member into his already full mouth. He was learning to 
deep-throat, each time pushing the limit until he was ready to gag. Not for 
the first time I felt the firmness of his nose against my belly as he inhaled. 
After several seconds he backed away, and looked up contentedly as he 
continued to hold my penis between his lips. His gleeful eyes glistened in the 
darkness as he bit down behind my glans. It was not enough to hurt of 
course, but enough to show that he was in control. He wiggled his tongue 
over my glans as his jaws tightened further, threatening yet still playful. 
I grinned back at him as I placed my hands behind his head, fondling his 
ears with my thumbs. Slowly I pulled his head forward, guiding him down onto 
my shaft. For a moment he stopped my inward pressure and then he relented. His 
mouth opened as wide as it could go. I surged into him, depressing his 
tongue and forcing my penis against the rippled roof of his mouth. Far 
enough for my pubic hair to brush his forehead, for his nose to push against 
my pubic bone, for Phillip to feel my bulging glans at the start of his 
throat. Not far enough for him to gag, although he would have gagged only a 
week earlier. 

One time was enough for the present. I knew he would try it again as 
soon as he was warmed up. As I withdrew he looked up at me expectantly, his 
hair disheveled as if he had just gotten out of bed. 

"He's big," he murmured. "And he's so hard,... and I love him so 
much," he whispered.

I smiled and ruffled his hair. "Do you want to get him ready?" I asked.

Phillip's eyes sparkled. He leaned forward and wetly smooched the end of 
my penis with his succulent lips. I felt the tip of tongue probing the slit 
for the tangy precursor to my orgasm. He made a wry face as he again tasted my 
salty juice on his palate. Without looking away he reached towards the 
nightstand, easily finding the still-open jar of vaseline. He plunged two 
fingers into it and then met my eyes as his hand came towards my erection.

"I want him so much," he purred. "I want him all the way inside me, I 
want him deep and hard, and fast too."

"I want you too," I sighed as his small grease-slicked hand eased 
along my shaft.

"This morning,... remember when we were talking on the way home,... 
about me growing up and all that?"

I nodded gently and wondered why he had to grow up, why he couldn't 
remain the way he was forever. In a few years he would be cheated of his 
boyishness, his delicate beauty replaced by approaching manhood. I sighed 
again. Such a short period of time remained for us. 

"I'll always love you, Phillip. Even if we don't do this,... I'll love 
you." I waited.

"Because I'll have hair down there when I'm older? And my cock will 
get bigger? Is that why?"

"Yes, in a way. Those are really only the outward signs."

"I don't understand!"

"I'm sorry. It's hard to explain. It's,... well,... you'll change as you 
get older. You become a man, and I'm not interested in men." I paused and 
wondered why it was so hard to explain. Perhaps because I did not understand 
it myself. "Just boys, Phillip," I added with a slow sigh.

"After I get older, will you find another boy like me?" he asked 
nervously.

"There isn't another boy like you," I reassured him. "But perhaps 
there'll be someone else. I don't know what the future holds. No one does. But 
I'll always love you no matter what. I really don't know what will happen in 
the future."

"I'd do anything. I could shave down there when I get older, like you do 
in the morning?" Phillip offered valiantly.

"I know, Honey," I answered. "But growing up isn't something you can 
stop, besides it would itch something awful. We have to enjoy being together 
while we can. We'll take it a step at a time and not worry about it until it 
happens."

Phillip smirked, clearly having one thought on his mind. "Then from 
now on we'll have to do it as much as we can."

"We can do it whenever you want," I laughed. "I think you known that 
by now."

"And how I want?" Phillip demanded.

"Yes, that too!" I agreed. "And how do you want it tonight you little 
sex-maniac?" I asked cheerfully.

"I already told you what I want," Phillip chided as he held up two of 
his lubricant-coated fingers. His fingers were a lot smaller than mine.

"I'm afraid it's bigger than that," I laughed. "In fact it's a whole lot 
bigger than two of your skinny little fingers."

"They aren't skinny little fingers," he retorted as he looked at his two 
fingers. "But you're right, your cock is much bigger."

He grinned ebulliently and suddenly grasped my projecting member 
possessively. I groaned loudly as he began to slowly move his gently squeezing 
hand. It felt remarkably like the muscular contractions behind the slick 
smooth walls of his rectum. I longed to be inside him. His thumb rubbed over 
the tip, smearing lubricant and pre-seminal fluid, teasing and playful. He was 
all but oblivious to my extreme sensitivity, appear to not care each time I 
shuddered. The feeling conveyed by his gentle yet merciless fingers was as 
exquisite as the shy smile on his face. Phillip was in total control and his 
wielded his power without mercy. I groaned again and silently prayed that I 
could last the distance.

"You like me doing this, don't you?" he teased. 

I nodded. "So do you, but you like it even more inside you, don't 
you?" I teased.

"Uh huh! But not right away. I want to play with him first."

My hand caressed his buttocks, feeling the firm globes of fleshy muscle. 
My finger tips sought the split, following the curvature of his spine into the 
deep warm crevice that led down to his genitals. 

Phillip grinned as he repositioned himself beside me. His face was close 
to my crotch, his buttocks within easy reach. He offered himself to me, 
while he continued unabated, jacking me slowly. My finger touched his anus and 
he wriggled his pelvis expectantly, taunting me as much with his beautiful 
body as with the suggestion that he would soon suckle me. Until then, the 
motion and timing of his hand was calculated to extract ever-stronger 
desires with his magical fingers. 

"God, you're good at this," I groaned. 

My fingers teased his anus with only the tip of my forefinger 
penetrating slightly into the hot moistness that lay within him. He 
quivered, lifting his upper leg higher to improve my access. My fingertip 
penetrated further into the soft warmth. He squirmed, wriggling back against 
me. Without the benefit of lubrication, his flesh felt dry. An musky aroma 
drifted between us. He had been to the bathroom immediately after dinner and 
like all boys, tended to minimize the effort put into wiping himself 
afterwards. Still, despite my reservations about licking him there it was 
not an unpleasant smell. I inhaled deeply.

"I could do this forever," I sighed longingly.

"What you really want is to put him in my butt, isn't it?" Phillip 
asked. His teasing intonation was matched by a playful squeeze of my now-
throbbing penis.

I nodded again, mindlessly enraptured, praying silently that I could 
go the distance. With each caress I felt the surge growing stronger, my climax 
approaching as he continued relentlessly. I jabbed my finger suddenly, 
easily breaking right through his remaining resistance. He grunted and 
twitched instinctively as he felt the increased penetration. There was a 
definite need for lubrication before I dared to go further. More than the 
first joint of my finger was usually a problem until he was loosened up, and 
deeper than that was impossible until I used some lubricant.

Phillip grinned as he moved the tip of his thumb back across my glans. I 
trembled involuntarily. He puddled in the oozing slipperiness, inserting the 
edge of his nail inside the slit as he smeared it over my glans. He looked 
at me and smirked, challenging me with his eyes. His eyes that were no 
longer innocent, they were the eyes of a boy who knew what he wanted. He was a 
boy who was prepared to do whatever was needed to get what he wanted. 

"He'll have to wait a while longer," he chided. "First we need to get 
him really slippery."

"What do you have in mind?"

He giggled as he leaned forward, and with both hands clasping my 
penis, brought it to his mouth. I felt the soft embrace of his lips, the 
sponginess of his tongue, at once soft and hard. It was hot and wet with the 
slipperiness of a wriggling eel. He sucked me in, coating my bulging, 
glistening glans with saliva he must have been saving up since he had started. 
His teeth closed around the tip, closing behind the corona, as his tongue 
continued the same magic as his fingers had performed. If the taste of 
greasy lubricant bothered him he showed no sign.

"You're good, lover-boy," I sighed happily.

With difficulty, Phillip glanced up. His eyes were playful and dancing 
with merriment. Now he was unable to speak, yet he communicated his thoughts 
in a different way. He lowered his head again, concentrating as he swallowed 
my penis down to his tonsils. He backed off quickly, yet he kept enough inside 
so that his cheeks bulged. This was pleasure of the highest order and the last 
thing I wanted to do was to interrupt his self-appointed task. He winked at me 
as he drooled trails of spit down my penis.

I sighed as I wondered whether he would stop in time. I was content 
and for the moment it made no difference to me whether I ejaculated in his 
mouth or rectum. From outside the room I heard the distant drone of the 
television. Time seemed to stop as his tongue flickered back and forth. I 
lifted my thighs to push back into him. He matched my rhythm, letting my penis 
penetrate to the back of his mouth before he lifted away. Meeting his eyes, 
I looked down to watch us. We were joined obscenely and moving in unison in 
the dim light. I could not help but smile. I closed my eyes and fought back 
against my approaching orgasm. 



I remembered another time, the first time he had allowed me to fuck him. 
It had been the same for me then, a desperate longing to perpetuate the all-
too-brief sensations for eternity. He had been nervous and tentative and he 
still performed miracles. Stark naked on a beach towel, his inhibitions 
scattered to the evening breeze. We progressed quickly from loving caresses 
until only the final act remained. We were like two eager lovers who had 
been separated for weeks instead of being virgins. With curious apprehension I 
barely breathed until my penis was fully inserted inside Phillip's ten-year-
old body. I had no doubts that Phillip's whimpers were as much of 
encouragement as discomfort, and then the crying sound faded away. If anyone 
had stumbled upon us on the dark beach they would have heard our muffled 
voices as we decided that three inches was far enough for the first time. 
There was a fit of boyish giggles, my deep voice, then silence as I gave him 
time to adjust to having my maleness inside his taut rectum. We were coupled 
together at last, man and boy joined as one being, each existing only to 
pleasure the other. Long minutes passed before we began to move, slowly at 
first, then gradually becoming faster when his anal passage was dilated enough 
for me to move with inflicting pain. Then, after several minutes of gentle 
thrusting we could no longer restrain ourselves and we copulated with abandon, 
rutting like wild animals until I sprayed my seed deep into his seething 
bowels. Still, it was surprisingly intimate and very gentle despite the 
violent nature of the act itself. Phillip's smell lingered between us, his 
succulent body holding me captive as I lay over him. My penis remained in 
his tight bottom long after the deed had been done. Indeed, the dull look in 
Phillip's eyes the next morning clearly revealed that it had been only the 
first of several climaxes for him during the night. He was sore, but he was 
happier than he had ever been. We had become lovers in the full sense of the 
word.



Now Phillip's hand reached up and stilled the movement of my hand. 

"Get me ready," he whispered. "I want you in me so bad."

I reached for the vaseline and scooped out a liberal amount. It was more 
than was necessary, but I liked him to be well-lubricated. I pressed both of 
my fingers into his opening, pushing as much of the grease inside him where it 
was needed. Both fingers pressed forward to test the constriction, and then 
backed away to massage the muscular band by rubbing the rim. Then forward 
again, increasing the pressure as Phillip pushed back. His body gripped me 
tightly, squeezing involuntarily as I sought entry. However, his sphincter 
could not the inevitable, especially when Phillip desired it. He forced 
himself to relax, his anus tightening in brief spasms as the tension drained 
from him. I could feel his pulse with my fingers, steady yet fast, his heart 
beating like a small frightened bird. Or perhaps it was my own excited 
heart, raging with anticipation.

I had pushed my fingers into him nearly up to the second joint when 
Phillip twisted away. He rolled onto his back, pulling me with him. His 
knees were against his shoulders. I knelt over him, for the moment my 
manhood powerfully dominant over the recumbent boy.

"What do you want?" I asked.

It was a ritual we followed. I needed more than his acquiescence. Loving 
sex is a mutual agreement of equal partners. In my mind, if I did anything 
else with Phillip was wrong. He deserved my respect.

"The usual," he grinned. "I want you to eff-ewe-sea-kay me."

"Like this?"

He nodded shamelessly as he gazed up at me between his legs. His eyes 
met mine.

"You said it hurts because my cock goes in too far," I said.

"Sometimes is okay, just not all the time," Phillip ventured bravely. 

"I don't want to hurt you."

"I don't mind. Just don't push too hard, okay?"

"Why this way?" I asked.

"'cause I want to see your face."

"See my face? You can do that if I lie on my side and you put your 
legs over me. Why this way?"

"Because you get this weird look when we do it this way."

"Weird how?"

"You look so happy,... and right at the end before he does it, you go 
really crazy."

I grinned. There was a similar look on his face at the end, a tortured 
look that was as disconcerting as it was reassuring. Almost every time he 
clenched his teeth as the painful pleasure overwhelmed him. Yet, he was unable 
to hold back his body's joy. Unable to move himself, he reacted by closing his 
eyes tightly even as his mouth opened wide. Each thrust was met by a grunt 
from deep in his chest as the air was exhausted from his lungs. Then I would 
kiss him, slobbering over his face like dog while my orgasm spilled out. 
Phillip would shudder uncontrollably, his sphincter clamping around the base 
of my jerking penis as his inner muscles clutched frantically. 

I entered him without saying more. I pushed gently but firmly. Some 
things have to be done slowly, and this was one of them. Back and forth, 
sometimes going deeper, sometimes backing off to give him some relief. He 
breathed steadily, concentrating to hold the pain to a bearable level. Every 
few seconds he nodded slightly to show he wanted me to continue despite the 
apparent lack of progress.

"His head is in," he murmured after several minutes.

"You're doing great," I said between attempts. "Do you want a break?"

Phillip's head moved slightly. It was enough to show that he wanted me 
to continue. I eased forward, pressing slowly as his anal band slipped further 
down the length of my shaft. With between two and three inches inside his 
bowels I stopped and rested on my haunches. The waterbed moved under me and 
I steadied myself. My penis pulled back and Phillip gasped. 

"You're doing great," I repeated.

I repositioned myself and replaced my penis at its previous position 
without difficulty. Phillip gave me a wry look. "It is feeling bad?" I asked.

"He's on a roll,... Let's not stop this time until he's in all the 
way. Just go slow."

"You're the boss," I smiled. 

I pushed a little harder and he gasped.

"Hurts?"

"I'm okay. I think you put another inch in me."

"Just an inch?"

"He feels so big."

"Bigger than your fingers?"

"Uh huh! Don't do that!"

"Do what?"

"That!"

"You mean this?"

"Yes!

"Does it hurt?"

Phillip shook his head. He gasped continually as I flexed my penis again 
and again, taking the opportunity to penetrate further into his rectum. When 
my penis was close to his prostate, there had been times when he climaxed with 
nothing more than that. 

"Why not?" I taunted.

"'cause I feel like I'm going to pee any second."

"We can always change the sheets. Just don't pee on me," I growled.

"Very funny! God, he's huge."

My penis jerked again as I rhythmically prodded the boy's prostate. 
Kissing wildly, I pushed into him as far as I dared and his eyes opened wide 
as my burgeoning organ filled his rectum. Phillip's knees clamped around my 
neck and his arms dragged my face closer to his. I pumped rapidly, perhaps too 
enthusiastically, but at times like this patience was impossible. He groaned 
loudly and bucked as my penis hammered into his bowels. My hips slammed 
against his uplifted buttocks, hard enough to lift him higher, pushing his 
head further into the pillows.

"Faster," he panted as his lips came free. "Do it faster!" 

He gulped air, heaving up against me. The sudden looseness in 
Phillip's rectum left no doubt in my mind that he had orgasmed. His legs 
slackened their deathly grip of my back. I lifted my torso up by pushing away. 
I glanced between our bodies. Only my penis joined us, embedded nearly five 
inches inside his body. The two inches that was not hidden glistened with a 
wet oily sheen. My pubic arm was dark and clinging to my groin. I withdrew, 
dragging my thick hard organ out of his bowels until the glans sealed his 
nether region like a fat purple plum. Phillip glared distraughtly at me, 
wavering for a moment before dropping his legs down to his flanks. 

"Again?" I asked gently. He nodded. "Are you ready?"

Phillip smiled slightly. "Put him in all the way," he instructed.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded and braced himself by grasping his ankles. My penis slid in, 
gliding on the slippery film of vaseline. His anus clasped my shaft like an 
thick elastic band, yet very much alive. I stopped with five inches in and two 
more to go.

"All the way!" he demanded. "I want all of him! Put it in me."

It was not the first time we tried to go all the way. Usually I gave 
up because the his pain was too much for me to watch and still continue on. 
However, this time was different. Perhaps our frequent practice had 
stretched his bowels or lessened his reaction. Perhaps he was merely unable to 
stop himself, or he wanted it so much that the pain was unimportant, but it 
was different. I surged forward. With a single thrust I brought my groin 
hard against his buttocks. What felt good for me probably felt like hell for 
Phillip. He gasped loudly. Guiltily I started to pull out again.

"Don't move!" Phillip groaned. "I want to feel him in me."

"Does it hurt?" I asked worriedly.

"A bit. It feels,... really weird. He feels so big."

Again I glanced down, but I could see nothing. We were pressed tightly 
together. My thighs were against Phillip's buttocks, his firm cheeks 
squashed by my hips. He felt incredibly tight and hot, his bowels seething, 
compressing, relaxing like a living thing struggling to escape.

"I was wondering whether all of him would fit. Now I know!" Phillip 
breathed rapidly. "God, it feels so funny, like all of you is in me,... it's 
like I belong to you."

I smiled and took a deep breath. I felt the same way. It was as if 
Phillip and I were joined together. One being in a shared body. It was 
impossible not to think of him as belonging to me. At that moment, he 
existed for a single purpose. He was a vessel to contain my manhood, his 
rectum becoming a rippling sheath that grasped my penis and conveyed his love. 
Still, the look on his face was anything but pleasure. He grimaced, half-
closing his eyes as painful spasms racked his abdomen.

"I don't want to hurt you," I groaned.

He shook his head abruptly. "I've got to get used to it, that's all!" He 
breathed quickly. Another shuddering spasm as his insides displaced. "Give 
me a minute.... Just don't take him out, okay?"

"Okay." I grinned in relief.

"What's so funny?" he demanded.

"Nothing! You feel so fucking good!"

"It's not all that funny," Phillip growled angrily.

I gazed down at him, disconcerted that I was hurting him, yet triumphant 
in love. "Okay, I was just wondering what your mom would say."

His lips tightened. Several seconds passed before he responded. "She 
asked.... She wanted to know if we did it?"

"And?" I prompted.

"I told her." He avoided my eyes.

"And?" I asked again.

"Then she asked if I liked it."

"And?" It was like getting blood out of a stone when he was like this.

"I told her I liked it, okay,... Okay, if you must know, I said I 
liked it a lot!"

"And?" I grinned. 

I flexed my stiffness and he winced, squeezing back in return. His hands 
caressed my back, gliding to my shoulders to pull me harder against him. His 
sphincter muscle tightened and relaxed rhythmically to send undulating waves 
of delight along the entire length of my penis. It was calculated to 
distract me. Clearly, Phillip had ideas other than talking.

"And?" I asked again.

He smiled bashfully. "I don't want to tell you."

"She asked whether you were happy being with me?" I suggested. I 
wondered whether his smile was confirmation. 

"I'm happy, okay." Phillip sighed wistfully. "I've never been this happy 
before. Not even on the island. I want to be with you like this forever."

"Like this? With my cock up your butt?"

Phillip giggled. "Not like this. Yes like this. I mean I want to live 
here with you. I want to be your lover-boy forever."

"You belong here," I said. "This is your home now, every bit as much 
as it is mine." 

Phillip smiled. His sphincter squeezed my penis again and again, 
increasingly tightly. It was a sure sign that he was ready to go on.

"I love you," I whispered in his ear. He stuck his tongue out at me. 
"I love you so much it hurts." He distorted his face, trying hard to be 
hideous and gross me out, yet becoming merely amusing with his antics.

"You're beautiful," I said softly. 

Another face, twisting his jaw as he crossed his eyes. "You say that 
to all the boys, I bet," he joked with a teasing voice. 

"No, I say it only to the boys I really love."

"Hmmmm,... I don't know if I believe you." He was barely able to 
suppress his smile as his bowels gripped my penis with a surprisingly powerful 
embrace. "You'll have to prove it!"

"What do you want me to do, lover-boy?" I laughed.

"If you can't figure it out for yourself I might as well go to sleep," 
Phillip guffawed. His rectum clamped possessively around my penis again. 
Then seriously, "I think I'm ready now. Go slow for a while. And don't take 
him out until I tell you!" he instructed.

He eased back, gripping his legs behind his knees and bracing himself 
for the coming onslaught. Even with his teeth clenched, I suspected that he 
was beginning to enjoy it. Pleasure came with practice, and during the last 
two weeks he had plenty of practice. By now his pain had become a tolerable 
discomfort. We had come a long way together in a very short period of time. 

"Slowly," Phillip instructed again as my penis began to move. 

"Okay."

"All the way, okay. Long strokes.... Yeah,... just like that."

With all-consuming interest, I watched Phillip's first orgasm 
building. I expect that it would be the first of many for him that night. 
Within a few minutes he gasped, shaking as his bowels tightened in a sudden 
spasm. His sphincter knotted and squeezed my penis with more strength than 
seemed possible from his slender body. He groaned loudly. I slowed, barely 
moving while he shuddered and trembled.

"Okay?"

"Uh huh. You feel so good, Paul."

"You feel good too."

"Don't stop! Keep on doing it, only go real slow."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm your lover-boy aren't I?"

Phillip smiled weakly, still wanting more. Although he was no longer 
as eager as he had been when we started, like me, he would not stop until he 
was exhausted. I regretted that a time would eventually come when he was 
unable to sustain his desire, when his orgasm was evidenced by a spurt of 
milky semen. Then timing would be everything, but now I could torment him. 
Each time I delayed my climax, fighting against emission when I came too 
close. One time I almost reached the point of no return, dribbling a small 
amount of semen into his quivering rectum before I managed to stop. 



It was later, much later when we finally stopped. Hot, sticky, 
slightly sore, exhausted. Phillip looked up at me with gentle unwavering eyes. 
He was so different to the distraught boy after his first time. He gazed at 
me, as full of confidence as his body was full of me. He squirmed underneath 
me to become comfortable. Aware of my weight, I eased back from him. My limp 
penis tugged free of its hot slushy burrow. I rolled to the side and hugged 
Phillip to me, cuddling his tousled head under my arm.

"Did I bleed?" he asked. Still anxious, yet the sight of his own blood 
no longer gave him cause for concern.

"Just a little bit. I think because I was in so far."

"No shit," he smirked. "I think you pulverized my intestines. I feel 
funny inside. It feels like you're still in there."

"Does it hurt?" 

"Not much. Mostly it feels a whole lot bigger."

I smiled. "I can't imagine why it would."

"Yeah, right. Neither can I," Phillip grinned. 

"You were pretty loose at the end."

"You must have put a pint of jizz in me."

"No way!"

"You were squirting it in me forever," he countered.

After delaying orgasm several times, and following nearly forty-eight 
hours of abstinence, I had ejaculated considerably more than my usual teaspoon 
of semen. A mental picture of millions of sperm swimming around his colon with 
nowhere to go, made me smile. Phillip raised his eyebrows. 

"I was just thinking about what would happen if I got you pregnant," I 
admitted.

"Boys can't have babies," Phillip replied adamantly. 

"No shit!" I laughed as I imagined his lean belly distorted like a woman 
with child. Suddenly it struck me that was how his mother must have looked 
when she was carrying Phillip, her child's body distended. "Besides, you'd 
have a hard time breast feeding with these," I added as I playfully prodded 
his nipple, a tiny bulb on an otherwise flat chest. 

I reached to the nightstand and pulled a half-a-dozen tissues from the 
stainless steel box. Phillip half-closed his eyes and buried his nose into 
my armpit. I wiped my penis carefully, removing the oily film that adhered 
to it.

"Did I poop on him?" Phillip asked, his voice sleepy and muffled.

"No shit!" I laughed. "At least not this time anyway. Sometimes it 
gets a bit itchy afterwards, that's all. I expect I'm not the only person 
who needs a wipe. You're pretty wet back there too. Maybe I'd better go get 
a washcloth and clean you up before you go sleep."

I eased away from Phillip's embrace and slowly came to my feet. He gazed 
at me from across the bed and smiled. 

"Are you afraid mom will find your stuff on the sheets and wonder what 
it is?"

"I think she'll know," I chuckled. "I'll be right back, lover-boy."

I headed off to the bathroom, taking a minute longer away from him 
than I wanted to urinate and rinse my mouth. By the time I returned with a 
dampened washcloth Phillip had gotten out of bed. He was standing on the 
balcony, his naked body sensuously dark in the silvery moonlight. 

He beckoned to me. "Paul, come outside. It's so peaceful."

I walked towards him, entranced by the graceful figure before me. He was 
slender and narrow waisted, almost androgynous. He lifted up his arms to 
welcome me. His belly pressed into my groin and his arms closed behind my 
back. Like me, Phillip was becoming increasingly possessive, accepting our 
relationship as if it had been decreed by a law of nature. Our bodies squeezed 
together, compressing to become one being. His head tilted back, his eyes 
already closed, his lips moistened and pursed. We kissed, no longer a familiar 
kiss of affection but embodying our love. His tongue probed against my lips 
and slipped inside. For nearly a minute we tongued before giving in to deep, 
hot, wet sucking, oblivious to the world around us as we shared ourselves with 
total abandon.

We were chilled by the time we finally parted. However, the gooseflesh 
on our limbs was not from being cold. Phillip shivered in my arms, squirming 
against my body as he pushed forward into my embrace.

"You feel so good."

"I love you," I murmured.

"Ditto!" Phillip whispered. 

"You're making me hard again. Keep rubbing like that and I'll shoot a 
load over your belly."

He giggled and rotated his lower body deliberately. "Like this?"

"Yes, like that."

"I think you like me doing this. He's getting hard again," he teased. "I 
can feel him sticking into my belly."

"Uh huh! Maybe we should go back inside. I'm beginning to think I'll 
be glad when you can cum."

"Why?"

"'cause then your's will be tired like mine. Once you start cumming 
you won't want to keep on doing stuff."

"Hmmmm,... What makes you think I want to keep on doing stuff?"

"This does," I whispered.

My hand slid between us and encircled his boy-sized erection. Despite 
his silky smooth skin, he was as hard as the proverbial rock. I squeezed 
gently and he groaned softly as he pressed back into my enclosing hand. 

"I think Junior needs something,..."

"Uh huh."

"Maybe he needs to get off," I mused.

"Uh huh," Phillip breathed. "It's so dark no one will see us out here."

Beyond Phillip, through the open door to the room, I discerned the 
bed. The sheets pulled back in disarray. Considering that only a few minutes 
earlier Phillip had been in the throes of ecstasy, his slender body wracked 
with orgasm, it seemed impossible that he was not exhausted.  The bed was like 
a welcoming sanctuary, a private and secure haven where I could take Phillip 
when we wanted to make love. The darkness also offered the opportunity for 
intimacy. I lowered my head closer to him an brushed his smooth forehead 
with my lips.

"What do you want me to do?" I whispered in his ear. 

"Will you suck me until I cum?"

"That'll take at least another year, maybe too," I teased. "By then 
you'll be water-logged and probably pretty sore."

Phillip giggled. "I don't mean cum like you do. I mean suck me until I 
get the feeling."

"Oh!" 

I knelt down, supplicant before his perfect nakedness. A mental image 
that I was paying homage his young body dominated my thoughts. He was a god to 
be worshipped. His penis jutted out from his suntanned groin. It was 
unwavering, short and very hard. It quivered invitingly as Phillip tightened 
muscles within his lower abdomen. It struck me as nothing short of a miracle 
that so much pleasure could be obtained from something so small. I leaned 
forward, holding Phillip's prominent hips. As my lips touched his stiffness 
his body arched, ramming his rampart sex into my mouth. He pumped hard, 
driving his penis back and forth with vicious stabs. After several erratic 
thrusts I grasped his buttocks and stopped him. 

"My you're a horny boy tonight," I laughed as I lifted away. "Let me 
do this my way, okay?"

"When I suck you, that's what you do to me," Phillip said sulkily.

"Not quite like that," I retorted. "I try do it as gently as I can."

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You didn't. I want you to learn how to make it last for a long time. 
It's not a race you know, Phillip. You do it fast only at the very end."

I opened my mouth wide and took his penis back inside. With my fingers I 
guided his testicles forward. My teeth grazed his skin while my tongue 
slathered saliva over his genitals. My nose nestled into his lower belly, 
breathing in the scent of boy and the lingering pungent odor of anal sex. I 
sucked, vacuuming the full length of his penis. Above me, Phillip sighed 
contentedly. 

My hands gradually followed the gentle contour from his hips to his 
buttocks. The fleshy mounds were cool from the night air. I held both 
cheeks, cupping each one in a single hand with my fingertips brushing the 
opening of his hot moist crevice. After what we had done in the bedroom I 
expected that he would be sore. I tested the territory warily as I eased a 
single finger into his crack. There was no complaint as I began to rub 
around the delicate opening. My other hand caressed his lean legs, flowing 
along his smooth inner thighs until I reached the heat from his crotch. The 
backs of his legs were slippery with my oozing semen as it drained slowly from 
his distended anus. I rubbed my hand in it, smearing it over his slender legs, 
over his buttocks and the base of his spine, all the way down to his calves.

Now my head moved rhythmically, repetitively sucking his rigid member as 
hard as I could. Phillip groaned ecstatically, placing his hands on my head as 
he started to hump again. His penis throbbed between my lips. So much for 
teaching him how to prolong the sensations. Clearly he needed more than oral 
stimulation. My finger pressed further into him, splitting his buttock 
cheeks apart as I reached into his bowels. His anus felt spongy, soft, wet, 
mushy. Beyond his distended sphincter, the walls of his rectum were sleek 
and greasy. He trembled when I prodded the sensitive region below his 
prostate. Again there was no complaint. Instead, his pelvis bucked savagely 
against my face. His movements became frenzied, each gasp followed by 
another without exhaling. With surprise, I recognized that he was orgasming 
yet again. His penis jerked half a dozen times before he settled down to the 
languid pace that proceeded his climax. Unlike me, where complete cessation of 
movement immediately after ejaculation was the rule, Phillip persisted, albeit 
at a much reduced rate, until the throes of orgasm had faded completely.

"Mmmmmm,...." he sighed happily. "Do I taste good?"

I lifted away from his now-contented and slowly shrinking penis. 
Sometime during the last minute or two his scrotum had tightened into a 
wrinkled knot. Lightly I fingered the flattened mound, pressing against the 
firm shape of his still immature testicles. Not this time, but sometime, he 
would be capable of emission. And while the thought of him producing seed 
was fascinating, the fact that his testicles would be much bigger than the 
small gems cradled between my fingers was depressing. I licked the bulbous 
cherry-red end of his penis.

"Hmmmm,...." I said. "You taste very good. I hope you feel sleepy 
now?" I teased.

"Uh huh," Phillip giggled. "I needed that."

"Let's go to bed then. I have plans for you in the morning."

"Like what?"

"Well, a repeat of tonight for one thing," I laughed as I stood up. "And 
after that, breakfast. But then, we have to start looking for a school for 
you. There's a great school about a mile or two from here. It's called 
Wilton Academy. The only thing is it's a boys-only school."

Phillip grinned and gave me a powerful hug. "So who needs girls when 
I've got you?"

We went back inside with our arms around each other, unaware that an 
undercover policeman was still taking infrared photographs, the motor dive 
on his auto-focus camera barely heard only a few feet away.





Chapter 8. Evidence is Everywhere


By the time we both fell fast asleep it was well past midnight. I 
clutched Phillip's naked body against me and absorbed the soft warmth he 
exuded as he slept curled up like a cat. My limp penis was sandwiched 
between his thighs and the moist folds of his little scrotum. Like Phillip, 
I was content at last, and finally I joined him in welcome slumber, 
oblivious to my semen that continued to ooze from his well-stretched orifice.

When we awoke, the sun was high enough to enter the room and welcome us 
to a new day. I came alert quickly while it usually took Phillip ten 
minutes or more to shrug off the drowsiness that kept him inert beside me. 
He had not moved once during the night.

"Hi sleepy head," I said as I tenderly ran my fingers through his 
tangled locks of dark-brown hair. Phillip's head was on my shoulder, a 
pillow eminently suited to supporting him as I caressed his back and flank.

"Mmmmm," he sighed. 

His fingers stroked my chest and drifted down to my navel. Two small 
thin fingers moved to each side of my penis, already inflated and prepared for 
the day's adventures.

"He's awake already," Phillip announced softly. 

His fingers closed on my glans. He squeezed with more gentleness than 
any boy I had known, much more that might be normally expected of pre-teen 
boys who seldom associate sensitivity with their treatment of an adult penis.

"How do you feel?" I asked. "You were hurting pretty bad last night."

"Okay. It's a little bit sore back there. I still don't believe we had 
it all the way inside me, do you?" he asked sleepily.

I shook my head and kissed the top of his head. My morning breath was 
particularly unpleasant after I had drunk too much wine. "You're one 
incredibly sexy kid. You wore me out after the first one. I'm glad we put that 
towel under your butt. The sheets would be filthy by now otherwise."

"So it's okay if you make a mess inside me, but not on the bed, 
right?" Phillip teased.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "You were pretty sloppy back there by the 
time you went to sleep. Sometimes I don't believe its all mine. I think I'm 
only responsible for my share."

"It's not my fault. You must have put half the jar of vaseline in me 
last night," Phillip retorted.

I laughed as I hugged him. "Well your mom did say we should be 
careful. I assume she meant that I should keep you well lubricated. Besides 
it's for your own good. Neither of us want you to get a sore ass."

"Paul?... " Phillip asked hesitantly. I smiled gently at the boy I loved 
so deeply that I could even begin to contemplate life without him. "Paul,... 
when Mom was standing there last night and we were doing it on the couch, 
you know playing around and stuff, why didn't you tell her to go away?"

Phillip's fingers began to trace feathery lines along the rigid shaft of 
my penis. He followed the veins and returned again and again to fondle the 
ridge ofmy glans with his fingertips. That my circumcised penis was a bigger 
version than his own fascinated him from the very first time he saw me 
naked. His fingernails lightly scraped the surface and sent electric shivers 
through me. He snoozed for a few more minutes as he basked in our shared heat. 
He felt warm and very alive, although he was barely moving. His head turned to 
suck on my shoulder. I lay contentedly beside him, letting him have his way. 
It was a happy time for both of us.

After several minutes he pulled his mouth away from my shoulder and  
grinned. In two weeks, few mornings passed without his leaving his mark on 
me somewhere. Love bites were a fact of life with Phillip. I carried the red 
splotch on me proudly. It was the symbol of his love, a temporary sign he  
gave me in return for the semen he carried proudly, but secretly throughout 
the day.

"You want to do it again, don't you?" I asked eventually.

"Don't you? Besides there's no rush to get up. 

"We have to go check out that school of yours today," I answered. "We're 
expected at nine o'clock. And then I plan to take you shopping for some 
clothes."

"Huh, I s'pose we'll have to get up eventually," he murmured softly as 
if he could read my innermost thoughts. "I want you inside of me, Paul. I want 
you to fuck me again like you did last night," he smiled.

"Are you sure you're up to it, Phillip?" I asked with concern. "You 
had a hard time last night. Maybe we should just take it easy today. Your 
mom will be angry if you get hurt. She's made that very clear to both of us.

"God! Paul, I told you I don't hurt! It's just a bit sore inside 
that's all. It feels just like it always does the next day. I just bled a tiny 
bit."

"Tell the truth," I demanded.

"Okay, it's a bit worse, but not that much considering what we did 
last night." Phillip grinned. "Anyway, I know I'm big enough inside not to 
have a repeat of the problem I had when we first started doing it. Remember? 
You said we could do it whenever I want to so long as I'm careful not to 
hurt myself."

"You were very lucky it wasn't worse," I said. "Anal fissures can get 
infected, you know."

"I'm okay, Paul," Phillip retorted. "I'd tell you if I wasn't okay. I've 
already told you that I'm just a little bit sore inside, and I wasn't lying."

"Well, we'll see, I laughed. "I'll be the doctor. It's time for your 
examination, Phillip. Let me have a look back there. "

I turned Phillip onto his side and wriggled down to the bottom of the 
bed to begin my self-appointed task between Phillip's cheeks. Examination 
was a euphemism for licking and sucking his tender opening before engaging the 
full depth of my tongue to absorb the essence of the boy I loved. Phillip 
assisted by working his hips back and forth, concentrating on the pleasure 
from front and rear in equal amounts until his penis was ready to burst. His 
little testicles  pulled up tightly, his scrotum contracting into a wrinkled 
lump that was barely visible between his thighs. With my nose squashed into 
his deep crevice and my lips sealed firmly against his wide-open anus, I 
blew warm air into him and breathed the even hotter moist, musty exhaust 
from his inner cavity. Sometimes he complained that I gave him gas, but this 
time he merely groaned and continued his juvenile thrusting.

I buried my face in Phillip's behind and  began to pump his short 
erection as fast as I could go and still maintain a loose grip on his delicate 
skin. From prior experience I knew it was very easy to make it sore if I 
held it too tightly or did it for too long. Practice makes perfect, and 
after several all-too-brief minutes Phillip arched his back against me and 
pulled his knees and thighs up to his chest to prevent my continued 
movement. He was temporarily satisfied. I gave him one last loving slurp 
from his scrotum to his tailbone, wiggled my tongue in his soft mushy hole, 
and sat up behind him. Phillip looked at me furtively, visibly tired from 
the effort of doing nothing that could be considered strenuous. He smiled 
shyly, knowingly proud that a man and boy could engage in passionate love. 

"That was awesome, Paul," Phillip sighed as he turned onto his back. His 
still-erect penis lay on his lower belly pointing directly at his navel, yet 
reaching no more than a third of the way there.

"Do you feel okay?" I asked as I gently caressed his stomach.

"Just tired. Man, I really felt like I was going to cum at the end 
that time."

I grinned and playfully tweaked his belly button with my finger. His 
suntannedstomach was firm and flat with a definite muscular contour that 
evidenced his physical condition. He was in excellent shape.

"In your dreams, beautiful. In your dreams. You ready for a shower?" I 
asked. "You smell like you've been having sex all night long, Bradley."

Phillip laughed. "You'll have to carry me, Paul. I think I'm too tired 
to walk."

I laughed with him and climbed off the bed, scooping one arm under his 
knees and the other under his back to easily lift him up. I carried him into 
the bathroom and stood shamelessly naked before the mirror, contrasting the 
differences between the two us. I deposited my load on the floor and Phillip 
hugged me tightly. His lips smacked against mine and I leaned forward over him 
and slowly eased my tongue into his open mouth. We sucked hungrily, mutually 
pleasuring each other until saliva flowed between us.

"That was the best one ever," Phillip sighed. "I like it when you do 
that to my hiney."

He was still breathless, his face glowing with the heat of passion. His 

slender body was ruddy from the workout on the bed. I grinned at him and 
placed my hands on his bony hips.

"Better than last night?"

"Hmmmm..... A little bit. Your tongue feels so nice and soft."

"Even better than on the beach that first night?" I teased.

"Yes. Last night was,... well it was weird. I think I enjoyed it more 

than you did."

I chuckled, remembering the radiant expression on his face when he 
realized my penis was all the way inside him. "Let's face it, Phillip. The 
truth is you just like to be fucked. And what's more, lover boy, you're also 
very good at it."

Without saying a word Phillip pressed harder against me. I understood 
what he was feeling. It was not something I could ever make light of. He was 
beginning to deal with his sexual orientation. For Phillip, grappling with the 
reality of being gay in a world that rejected his youthful desire as obscene 
and made it illegal, was very difficult. He needed constant support. He needed 
to be held tightly. He was the same way when we have sex. However, it was 
far more than merely sheltering him from an angry society. A kind of guilty 
sadness settled over him each time until he recovered from the emotional 
rollercoaster that brought my body into union with his. It was wrong that he 
felt that way, but I could not stop him. Now, he needed me as a friend who 
cared what he was feeling, a person who he could share his problems with.

"Maybe we better get in the shower, lover boy."

He giggled. "Your cum was all over me last night, Young. You must have 
put a gallon in me. I can still feel it dribbling down my legs, you know."

I laughed with him. "I thought I just licked most of it out of there, 
Bradley," I said as two of my fingers began to explore his dilated opening.

His anus was completely relaxed and my fingers penetrated the little 
orifice with ease. The oozing wet heat inside him was inspiring. I removed one 
finger and pushed the other one in deeper until Phillip groaned. My 
fingertip rubbed over his prostate and he immediately squeezed down to 
increase the pressure.

"Yeah," he murmured with enjoyment. "Feels soooo gooooood."

I grinned and probed his mouth with my tongue as my finger rhythmically 

stroked inside the first two inches of his rectum. His narrow pelvis 
began to oscillate, pumping his buttocks back into my hand, and then 
grinding his slowly growing penis into my thigh. My other hand felt the 
backs of his thighs, dragging my fingers through the remaining wetness of my 
orgasm and bringing it up to wipe over his firm cheeks. He was uninhibited 
in his desire, so smooth and slippery, so full of boyish enthusiasm that it 
was all I could do to restrain myself. Finally I eased him away and 
playfully slapped his bottom to let him know that the fun was over for the 
present. It was time to shower and get ready to leave. However, Phillip was 
not so easily distracted. I was quickly beginning to learn that once his 
mind was made up he could be very persistent.

"Fuck me again," he demanded.

"We're going to be late," I warned.

Phillip shrugged. Time had no meaning to him just as it had no meaning 
to most boys of his age. "We can do it in the shower and get clean at the same 
time. Then it won't matter if your cum runs down my legs," he suggested 
crudely.

I grinned. He was desirable all the time, but when he was sexually 
aroused and hankering for my penis inside him, he was irresistible. I felt 
my penis flooding with blood and it lifted up to point directly at his own 
small erection. Without saying more, I guided him through the open door of the 
shower and into the steam-filled enclosure. Immediately he turned to face 
me, reaching up with both arms to embrace me, ramming his body against mine 
with impetuous eagerness, lifting his mouth up oblivious to the shower water 
cascading over him.

"Fuck me like last night," he ordered as his mouth sealed against 
mine. His tongue replicated what he expected my penis to do to his bottom. 
He plunged it into my mouth and began to imitate my thrusting with inexpert 
jerks of his own thighs.

Finally I peeled him away, unfastening his clinging limbs so that I 
could reposition him. The water splashed over him, pounding against the 
bumps of his spine as he bent forward and offered his rump for my 
appreciation. He was easy to appreciate. His small bottom was firm muscle, 
slightly pinched cheeks that protected his deep crevice and concealed his anus 
from me. I wasted no time in picking up the soap.

With one arm I clasped his pelvis and used my hand to part his buttocks. 
The soap lathered quickly in his cleft, making a thick white foam over his 
slippery smooth skin. My finger rubbed along his crack, from scrotum to spine, 
probing into his still-dilated opening with every pass. I lingered over his 
orifice, teasing his sensitive no-longer-puckered hole. I marvelled as I did 
each time, that not only was this part of his slender body able to contain 
my inflated maleness, but it could provide him such pleasure that he could 
barely stand it. Even when I did it very gently he went into paroxysms that 
left him exhausted. With only the slightest of pressure my finger slid into 
him to the knuckle. I pressed up, seeking the place that gave him even more 
joy.

"I don't want your finger. I want you to put him in me," Phillip said 
plaintively. "I want you to do it the same way you did last night."

I grinned and lifted up so that my finger tip was forced into his 
immature prostate hard enough to lift his feet from the floor. For a moment he 
was suspended in ecstasy, tortured with excruitiating pleasure with most of 
his weight carried by his anus and rectum.

"You want it deep and hard?" I teased once Phillip was standing safely 
on the tiles again and turned around so that his back faced me.

He nodded impatiently, placing his hands behind him to split his little 

cheeks wide apart for me. His opening winked at me as he tensed and then 

relaxed his sphincter muscle. It was his way of readying himself for 
my penis. I said nothing. There was no need to speak. Our desire was mutual 
and we communicated through our senses. I mounted him like a stallion mounts a 
mare, using quick, sharp thrusts to penetrate my glans into him. His anus 
was no longer tight and he pushed back instinctively trying to take more until 
he felt my glans surge through the constricting entry and into his rectum. 
We paused momentarily, feeling the heat and pressure we shared now that we 
were joined together again. My penis throbbed with every tiny spasm of his 
bowels, tingling with delight while he wriggled, squeezed, and grew used to 
having it inside him again. Without greater force that what I normally used, 
my penis sank deeper and deeper until I was completely contained. The soap 
made him very slippery, and his slick smooth cheeks slid against me freely. He 
groaned, full of my penis and feeling his lust build as we began to move. I 
thrusted against him with deliberate force and he resolutely pushed back as 
hard as he can. The message of what he wanted was clear. The tightness, what 
little there was, faded instantly and he opened up so my shaft slid in and out 
without hurting.

"Yeeeeaaaahhhhh," Phillip sighed.

"You want to be fucked harder, huh?" I teased.

He nodded earnestly. I pulled back until only the tip of my penis was 
between his buttocks. He tried to say something, but my hands gripped his hips 
and swiftly I rammed forward, plunging full depth with a single stroke. 
Phillip was pushed into the shower wall and he groaned loudly, sucking in 
air as I backed away. He had barely caught his breath before my cock slammed 
in again. Under normal conditions I would never attempted this with him, but 
he was fully relaxed and very willing. Out again. In again. The rhythm 
started, bucking wildly against the struggling boy, straining to get totally 
inside him so that we became one being. Over the roar of the shower I heard 
Phillip gasping. He was close to orgasm already. I pumped harder and faster, 
giving him everything. He grunted, no longer breathing, but shaking 
furiously as his body began to lose control. Sometimes he urinated from the 
pressure of my penis against his morning bladder and the need to expel 
something during his climax. I glanced down over his shoulder. The water in 
the bottom of the shower was tinged pale yellow. Without losing a beat I 
reached under him and grasped the end of his limp penis between one finger and 
my thumb. Warm fluid was dribbling out of him and I stopped the flow. My other 
fingers encompassed his tiny testicles and I began to massage them firmly as 
if mere squeezing could actually incite the passage of unformed semen. It 
was enough to cause Phillip to orgasm again. He twitched, shuddering 
uncontrollably, falling as his knees buckled beneath him. My hands gripped 
tighter, lifting him up and back onto my rampart monster. It jabbed 
mercilessly into his bowels, ever faster, ever harder. Even with the thunder 
of the shower the sucking sounds of our bodies working in unison were loud.

Phillip's soprano voice was urgent as he begged for more, deeper, 
faster, harder. More, more, MORE! He was shameless, yielding to his primal 
self and desperate for my penis to take him to a new height. With all the 
energy I could muster it was all I could do to keep him at the peak. I felt my 
strength flagging and I stopped pulling as well as pushing. With his head down 
and braced against the tiled wall, he had borne the full brunt of my onslaught 
without a single complaint. There was a moment's peace, like the eye of a 
hurricane. I felt the fluid rising in my penis and one more time I thrusted 
viciously at his exposed behind. Phillip spasmed yet again, his legs weakening 
and he began to fall. Before I caught him, his head hit the tiles. As a last 
resort to give him pleasure, I shoved my penis inside as far as it could go 
and began to ejaculate. I stopped moving and felt Phillip's rectum quaking 
in the dying throes of yet another orgasm.

I pulled away before my penis became soft, but not before the last 
dribble of semen was out. Almost as soon as it was free of Phillip's body 
the water washed away the brown soapy slime that covered it. I reached over 
with my free hand and turned off the shower. Enough was enough!

I toweled Phillip dry, rubbing with gentle deft movements that 
massaged his limbs and torso. His lustrous skin was smooth and supple, glowing 
with health and happiness as I abraded it against the cotton towel. He 
smiled shyly, very quiet and very aware of the raw tissue inside him where 
my penis had been. I wiped between his buttocks carefully, knowing that his 
anus was tender and bruised. Yet he was content. He breathed slowly, 
physically drained even though he had done nothing more than bend over 
before me. I should have been the one who was exhausted. Instead, I felt a 
triumphant sense of power, of domination, of possessing the slender tousled-
headed youngster. He looked up at me, his eyes reflecting trust and affection. 
At that moment, I knew Phillip was mine. He was as much a product of my 
flesh as if I had sired him. My seed was in him, if not by inheritance, then 
by another right of ownership.

"You felt so good," I said gratefully.

He raises his eyebrows with a deliberate exaggeration. "Just good?"

"Okay, you were incredible."

"I thought so. Would you like me more if I could cum properly for you?"

I shrugged. It was only a matter of time before his young body 
ripened. Too soon for me, he would mature and be able to ejaculate his love 
for me. I did not answer. I lightly caressed his small soft member, 
delightfully impotent for the moment and so unlike the stiff projection that 
previously adorned his crotch. I changed the topic.

"We better get dried off and dressed, lover-boy," I said half-heartedly. 
"Otherwise we'll spend the entire day doing it."

"Like we did last week?" Phillip asked teasingly.

"We still found lots of time to go swimming and sailing," I argued 
playfully as I cupped each of my hands over a familiar rubbery cheek.

How many times had I parted his smooth buttocks and carefully pushed 
through his tightness and into the heated tube beyond? In two weeks there 
had been dozens, I figured, and each time has been better than the last.

I pulled him against me, bringing my groin to his belly. I lowered my 
head to bring us face to face. He smiled, a beautiful smile that conveyed 
his happiness. It was impossible to avoid his wide-open eyes. He gazed upward, 
signalling his love, blinking involuntarily.

"I love you, Phillip," I pleaded.

He smiled teasingly. "I love you more, Paul." He rubbed his baby-soft 
belly against my penis, compressing it with firm stomach muscles while I 
gripped his buttocks ever tighter. "I didn't know it would feel like this. I 
feel so wonderful when we're together."

"Neither did I, Paul. I knew it would be good, but not like this. You 
feel so wonderful."

 My fingertips felt the heat emanating from his crevice, luring them 
to the spongy orifice deep between them. I caressed around the rim of his 
anus, tickling sensitive flesh, tantalizing nerve endings and arousing him 
again. His body strained, bringing his penis hard against my thigh. His 
mouth begged, lips slightly apart. His eyes closed. We kissed, hot, wet, hard, 
happily sharing tongues in our shameless embrace.

He was panting when we parted. His cheeks were flushed, his lips 
reddened and moist with saliva from the intensity of our shared passion. He 
licked his bottom lip as if savoring the after-taste of the kiss. I brought my 
mouth back to his, kissing urgently and trying to concentrate all my love. I 
had a sudden sense of deja vu that after this morning I would never see him 
again. And then it was gone and his tongue pushed into me again. I sucked 
the air from his lungs and then breathed back into him. It was the breath of 
life. I remember the first time we kissed like that.



It had been a long day. Phillip was tired, but not that tired. He had 
accomplished a lot in three days, and even more alone with me in as many 
nights. That afternoon, he had taken the sailboat out by himself for more than 
an hour in winds gusting to twenty miles an hour. I watched him through 
binoculars, afraid that he would be injured or unable to right the boat if 
he capsized. With the gusts, the boat accelerated to a wild ride, planning 
in a spray of water. He raced the length of the beach and, without 
hesitation performed a jibe to turn the boat around and head back towards 
me. Each time I waved, wanting him to return to the safety of the shore, yet 
knowing this was the best thing that could happen to him.

Even without that accomplishment, he radiated pride, glowing with an 
inner joy that had become overpowering. It was a joy that seemed to grow 
with every minute he was with me. Sometime during the previous day his 
continuing discomfort had disappeared completely and his anus had become 
incredibly easy to penetrate. That afternoon we carried our blanket back 
behind the sand dunes. I knelt over him, my penis inserted almost half-way 
into a tight sheath of alive boy-flesh, compressed by muscles deep within 
his narrow pelvis. He smiled, wanting what I offered and yielding his body 
to me. I leaned forward, bending my elbows to bring us even closer together. 
His legs were close to his chest and I guided them further apart until they 
were splayed to the side and we were belly to belly. He licked his lips 
tentatively, squeezing his sphincter to adjust to my new position. I sensed 
his silent message urging me to kiss him. Our lips came together. Our kiss was 
wantonly erotic, tongues entwining, exchanging fluids, lips grinding together. 
His bowels clutched at my manhood, binding me inside him, then relaxing. My 
mind reeled in turmoil, disputing reason, rejecting everything except the 
undeniable fact that I existed only for Phillip's happiness. Our mouths sealed 
and I filled my lungs, drawing my air from him before I breathed out again 
to restore the balance in his chest. I exhaled, filling his smaller lungs even 
as I filled his body with my penis. I possessed him. Again and again we shared 
ourselves, my penis moving slowly inside his rectum to delay my orgasm for 
as long as possible. I timed each thrust and breath carefully, waiting until 
the oxygen has gone and the air was stale and hot. We parted, gasping, 
realizing that for nearly a minute we had been joined as one life. I felt 
complete as I returned my mouth to his and resumed kissing his soft lips.

Phillip grinned cheekily, now jabbing his squat stiffness against me, 
eyes wide-open and gleeful with playful intentions.

"You're incorrigible," I complained. "You're a horny little kid, 
aren't you Bradley?"

He giggled. "I'm always hard, aren't I Paul?"

"Wait till you're older and you start cumming. You won't be able to 
get it up again right away then," I teased.

I slid my hand between us, reaching down to grab his small erection. I 
held him tightly and cradled his compact shaft. It fit easily under my 
fingers. My fingertips caressed his scrotal pouch with gently probing touches.

"Could we use that flush thing,... you know the tube to wash me out?" he 
asked suddenly.

"You want an enema?" I laughed. "Why? I thought you were using the 
toilet without any problem. Don't tell me we have a boy here who has a bowel-
movement problem again."

He was quiet for a moment. "I'm going okay. It isn't that. It's just 
well,... you put so much inside me,... it feels funny. I don't want it 
dribbling out like it did when we were away. It messes up my clothes. And if 
we're going to my new school today,..."

I grinned as I stepped back to open the cupboard under the vanity. A 
hankerchief in the rear of his briefs would probably prevent any seepage 
from showing. I reached in and took out the rubber hose. 

"I guess it'd be nice not to find cum stains all over your underpants 
for a change. It can't feel good to be sitting in cum all day."

Phillip grinned cheekily. "Sometimes when we were away, I had to go 
swimming just because so much of your jizz leaked out in my Speedo. It's 
pretty gross, Paul." He glanced at the bath. "Do you want me to kneel in the 
tub?"

I shook my head as I fastened the rubber cup over the bath spout and 
applied some soap to the other end. "No, you don't have to get in the bath 
this time. I think you know what to do. Just try your best not to leak 
before you get to the can," I teased. "Do you want this one with cold water?"

"No way! I want it just right! Not too hot either!" Phillip retorted 
as I adjusted the taps to get the temperature just right.

I sat down on the side of bath and pulled Phillip towards me. Obediently 
he rested his chest on the vanity, his feet about a foot apart. With one 
hand I pressed his small cheeks apart and centered the soap-slicked tube at 
his still-dilated opening. His anus was scarlet crimson circle within a larger 
region of darker blue-brown-purple flesh. The opening was remarkably small 
considering what had only recently been inside it. My other hand held the 
middle of the tube tightly to restrain the flow of water to a slow dribble. 
His anus squeezed shut, instinctively protecting him against unwarranted 
entry.

"Phillip, you have to relax a bit, buddy," I said. "Okay that's better."

He signed softly as he felt the tube slide in. I watched it disappear as 
the soapy film eased the way. There was no friction. I reached the black 
mark before I realized how far in it was. Seven inches was of half-inch 
thick tubing was inside him and he barely reacted beyond slightly clenching 
his buttocks when it reached the end of his rectum. I released the tube and 
allow the luke warm water to run into him. I transfered my right hand to his 
scrotum and began to fondle his testicles.

"I can feel it," Phillip muttered.

"Not too hot, is it?"

"No. It's nice. Ooooh! I really can feel it now. It feels like it's 

filling my belly up."

Anatomically, it was impossible, yet Phillip conveyed the gradual 
fullness and warmth that he felt expanding in his pelvis. My fingers pressed 
his buttocks close together as the first water began to leak out. When it 
seemed that he had enough I slowly drew the tube out and directed Phillip to 
turn around. He felt uncomfortable and moved awkwardly. A half gallon or 
more of warm water in his bowels tended to have that effect on any boy. His 
buttocks pinched together as he struggled to keep the water inside him.

He trembled with a sudden cramp, tensing as he tried to hold his bowel 
movement back. He smiled slightly and gave me a wry look. We both knew that he 
was about to spill the beans any moment, so to speak. He moved closer to the 
toilet and placed the seat down so he could sit when he needed to. 

"How much longer?" I asked.

"Not much. I have to go bad."  

He winced and carefully eased onto the seat. He could no longer hold the 
pressure inside him. He trembled suddenly, shuddering as another cramp came. 
Relief was only a matter of seconds away. Then without warning foul liquid 
began to gush out from Phillip's bottom, squirting noisily as marble-sized 
lumps splattered against the porcelain bowl. There were several ways of 
decreasing intensity. Finally he slumped against me.

"You okay?" I asked. 

 Phillip nodded weakly. "Yeah! I'm okay. It feels bigger inside me. Do 
you think it makes me bigger."

 "I don't know. I'm not sure your butt-hole needs to be any bigger 
than it already is," I chuckled. "But at least you're cleaned out back there."

Phillip gave me a disdainful look as the last dribbles dropped into 
the water beneath him. He reached for support, smiling wryly as I helped him 
to stand. It took less than a minute to wipe his rump clean with a wash 
cloth and dry him off. I paid careful attention to his nether region, 
dabbing gently at his little anus before applying a film of antiseptic 
cream. We still had an hour to get dressed and have breakfast before we had to 
leave for our planned visit to the Wilton Academy for Boys.



Chapter 9. Arrested


Due process was a concern right from the start. They arrived in force, 
no less than five cars each with two policemen. The were equipped with a 
search warrant, and even as I called a judge for a restraining order they 
instituted a well organized foray through the house. Phillip stood silently, 
watching the police officers. His eyes were full of hatred, and when I 
looked at me I could see his growing distress at the invasion. At least he was 
dressed. An hour earlier he had been stark naked, lying on his back with his 
knees at his shoulders, grunting loudly each time I lunged at him. 

Two more vehicles arrived within a few minutes. I watched them through 
the window, parking on the gravel driveway. One was an official van from SID 
(the Scientific Investigation Department). The other was a private vehicle. 
It's driver was Robert Skolnicki, from the State Prosecutor's Office. He 
smirked as he walked towards the house, talking quickly to a pin-striped 
minion who hurried to keep up beside him. Within a matter of seconds he was in 
the room. We glared at each other. Not content, he turned to Phillip, sizing 
up and preparing his opening statement. Phillip looked away, his eyes 
wandering around the living room in an effort to escape from the man he 
despised.

"I missed you in court, Phillip," Skolnicki said carefully. "I was 
depending on you. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised knowing what you 
are."

Phillip shrugged. 

"He went on a holiday," I snarled. 

"More like a honeymoon for a boy-faggot and his new-found mentor," 
Skolnicki snapped. "That's what you are, isn't it? You're a boy lover?"

"This is an illegal search," I countered angrily. "The judge you used is 
outside the fucking jurisdiction."

"That's right. Funny, I didn't think of that. It really doesn't matter 
though does it?"

"What do you mean?" I demanded.

"It's simple, Counsellor. I don't plan on finding anything. We'll 
still take a look. Even if you have a vault full of pictures of naked boys, 
I don't need them. I have all the pictures I need."

"What are you talking about?"

"I would have thought you would have it all figured out by now. Last 
night on your deck? You and your little boyfriend? Don't you remember 
kissing him? There are laws about sucking off underage boys, even queer ones."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I retorted hotly. 

I glanced quickly at Phillip. He seemed to shrink with every accusing 
word. He stared at the floor.

"He's under sixteen. That means he's a juvenile, Counsellor," 
Skolnicki snapped. "I've got you red-handed. You're looking at five to ten for 
a first offense, even more if I can prove you raped him."

"Get your fucking Gestapo out of my house," I swore.

"I'd love to. Only there's a problem you see.... The trouble is, 
well,... because we now have reason to believe that there's been a crime 
committed, an act of child abuse, we have to examine the victim. Do I have 
to remind you what the Revised Code says, Counsellor?" Skolnicki half-closed 
his eyes, imitating deep thought. "Section 4116.7 A, and B too of course. If 
an officer has reason to believe an act of physical or sexual abuse has been 
committed against a child, the officer has the right to blah, blah, blah. He 
has the right to search, obtain medical samples, etcetera, etcetera, 
etcetera."

I shuddered. While I could not recite the appropriate parts of the 
Revised Code word for word, I knew the general sense. The State Legislature 
intended the section to give the investigator every opportunity to apprehend 
perpetrators of child abuse. Due process and the rights of the accused were no 
longer an issue.

"Fuck!" I said under my breath.

"Take the juvenile into the kitchen," Skolnicki said over his shoulder.

"You don't have the right to question him without someone from Child 
welfare being here," I countered aggressively.

"The hell I don't! Besides this isn't an interrogation. It's a 
physical examination."

"P-P-P-Paul?" Phillip stammered as he looked at me for support.

"The investigating officer has the right to obtain such medical 
samples and perform physical examination as deemed necessary by the apparent 
nature of the abuse," Skolnicki replied confidently. "This isn't a public 
toilet in a mall, Phillip. This time you can't lie about being kicked in the 
groin."

"I want to stay here with Paul," Phillip said angrily. "There's 
nothing you can make me do."

"You're wrong there, Phillip. Maybe your legal advisor will be able to 
explain to you that under certain circumstances Section 4116.7 allows the 
state to perform a complete examination on you. In fact it doesn't matter 
whether we have your permission."

"But I won't let you do it. This is against my will."

"What you want doesn't matter, Phillip," Skolnicki sneered.

"I have a right to be with him," I interjected. I stepped forward. 

"The hell you do. You're a suspect in the felonious penetration of a 
minor. I've already got enough evidence to charge you, and I have a dozen 
officers here who would be more than pleased to escort you outside and use 
whatever force is necessary to restrain you."

"Paul," Phillip whined. "I don't want to,..."

"I know. I can't stop them."

I watched as the two forensic scientists led Phillip away. Suddenly my 
knowledge of the law was inadequate. I had never met a situation like this. 
I was impotent. There was nothing I could do to stop what was happening. 
They did not bother to close the door. The examination was perfunctory. I 
listened with a growing despair.

"What's your name, boy?"

"Phillip!"

"Listen Phillip. This will only take a few minutes if you behave 
yourself."

"I want to leave, NOW!"

"This can be easy or difficult. It's totally up to you."

"Fuck off!"

"Hmmmm. Such foul language from a little boy. It sounds like you don't 
want to be cooperative."

"Screw you! I want to go back to the other room."

"We're going to let you go in a few minutes, but first we need to 
examine you."

"Examine me how?"

"We're going to take a look at your butt for starters. I'm sure you know 
why. I promise you it won't hurt."

"I don't want to."

"You don't have a choice."

"Take your shorts off, boy."

"No way."

"Hold him down Mitch."

"Take your hands off me! I don't want you to touch me!"

"Calm down. Bend him over the counter."

"NO! NO! NO! STOP IT!" Phillip screamed.

"His undies too."

"The little bastard scratched me."

"Let me go! No! NO!"

"Whoa there. Hold the little fucker for God's sake."

"He's strong for a skinny little runt, isn't he?"

"LET ME GO! You can't do this."

"Hey Mitch, look at this. The little faggot's got himself one bruised 
little ass-hole."

"Let me go!"

I heard a resounding slap and Phillip shrieked. I started to move 
forward, but jerked to a halt as one of the policemen began to reach his 
holstered gun. Skolnicki shrugged and gestured towards the kitchen.

"He has orders to shoot if you try to intervene."

"You wouldn't dare," I said threateningly

"It's called resisting arrest." Skolnicki glanced towards the open 
kitchen where we could now hear Phillip crying continuously. "Are you done 
in there yet?"

"There's substantial bruising on the perimeter, Sir," one of the 
scientists called out. "He's been pretty busy back there, no question about 
it. In fact, it looks like his anus is still dilated. I'm going to take a 
swab."

"What! Oh God! No! NO!"

"Hold him tighter."

"Watch out for his legs."

"No joking. Come on, Phillip. You must be used to having a finger up 
your chute by now. This won't feel any different. A boy doesn't get bruised 
the way you are from taking a shit. Hold him tight."

"Stop it! Oh! NO! NO! DON'T!"

Skolnicki smirked triumphantly and raised an eyebrow. "Now I wonder 
how he got like that? Any ideas, Counsellor? Get some photos," he called 
out. "And check the inside. Maybe something got into his rectum."

I glared at him and offered a silent prayer of gratitude that we had 
taken the extra time in the bathroom. I knew the answer already. I heard the 
sound of a latex medical glove being pulled over a hand. A moment later 
Phillip cried out as his anus was forcibly entered and his young body 
was violated with considerably more force than was necessary.

"Hey Skolnicki, I'd say you're out of luck. The kid's ass is as clean as a 
whistle."

Skolnicki's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "It doesn't matter. I've got all 
the evidence I need for a conviction right here in my pocket. Still I was 
hoping there was a load of fresh semen still in him."

"You're gross, Skolnicki. You sink to a new low every time I see you."

Skolnicki shrugged. "I'm surprised there's nothing in him! I want you to 
vacuum him. I want a couple of samples out his ass just in case the god-damn 
lab can find something." 

I looked away, feeling a sickening chasm fill my stomach. I shook my 
head in sullen denial. Words would not come. I wanted to throttle the 
arrogance out of him. Over Phillip's crying, I heard the clicking of an air 
pump begin.

"Son-of-a-bitch," I said angrily.

"That's the Baxter Pump you can hear. We use it to suction a vagina 
after a rape. It works on boys too, but it gets a bit messy sometimes. It 
isn't made for assholes, but then that's unnatural anyway," Skolnicki taunted. 
"If anything is still inside him, they'll get it out."

"You're wasting your time."

"Maybe. Maybe we'll have to pump his stomach as well. Does he swallow 
for you, Counsellor? He certainly has the mouth for it, and his teeth are
nice and white."

"I'll get you for this, you fucking asshole."

He smiled. "You'll have to do better than that, Young. Don't you have 
some comments on due process and my improper treatment of a minor who's been 
placed in your custody? You're not dealing with a couple of dumb cops in a 
mall bathroom this time."

"Fuck off!" I said as I turned away from the kitchen. 

The sound of the pump died away. Through the open doorway I could hear 
Phillip crying. I could not bear to hear him cry. His agony was my fault. He 
depended on me and I had failed him. The pump started again, sucking loudly 
for a second before it began to pick up fluids from deep in Phillip's abdomen.

"No!" Phillip screamed. "Don't do it again! It feels like my guts are
being sucked out. NO!"

"For God's sake, stop it!" I bellowed. I spun around, clenching my fists 
impotently. "Leave him alone."

Skolnicki smiled slightly. "I'm following due process this time, 
Counsellor. You know how it works, I'm sure. We have the right to conduct an 
examination of a minor who we believe has been sexually abused. You find 
anything?" he asked loudly of the two men in the kitchen.

"I told you he's clean! A couple of hard little turds, that's all. The 
kid's probably been constipated for a few days. It's one of the signs he's 
been doing something he shouldn't."

I looked up quickly. "It doesn't prove shit! He was sick while we were 
away. He had a mild case of food poisoning." I took a deep breath. Phillip
had been constipated for about three or four days. "He was really sick."

"He had his ass fucked!" Skolnicki said crudely. "You'll have to do better
than food poisoning. It looks like I'm finished here!"

"What happens now?" I asked.

"You're going downtown to be charged with whatever I can find. Anal rape
of a minor, indecent assault, whatever. The boy will go to St. Luke's 
for a doctor to take a look at him and write the official report that will put 
you behind bars where you belong. And it certainly won't be Leon Chalmers 
who does the examination this time," he snarled.

"What about after that?"

"Phillip will be sent to a Child Welfare Center. Maybe even to Pierce Hall. 
We know he likes it there. Bromley, you remember Bromley don't you? He took 
quite a liking to young Phillip for the few weeks he was there before. Your 
Phillip will probably be constipated until he's well into his teens."

"You're,..." I sighed. "What does it take?" I asked pointedly.

"You're offering me a bribe, Young?" Skolnicki laughed. "Yes, I 
imagine you're worth quite a bit. You must make a damn sight more than the 
eighty-five thousand I got last year. But to answer your question, what it 
takes is a signed confession, Counsellor. There won't be any plea bargains 
this time."

"You really expect that I'll plead guilty and throw myself on the 
mercy of the court?"

Skolnicki's eyes narrowed. "I'll get you, Young. You've screwed me twice 
now. It won't be three times!"

"Twice? What are you talking about?"

"Chalmers and Lawson. I had both of them. I was just out of law school 
when I was assigned to the Lawson case. I bet you remember Roger Lawson. I bet 
you didn't know he also paid for you to work with Chaice and Page on the 
Chalmers case? No matter! They were as guilty as hell and you got them off. 
Let's see you get off this time with all your legal expertise, you god-damn 
boy fucker. You've fucked your last child in this state."

I groaned inwardly. So that was it. Skolnicki was doing this because I 
had beaten him in court, not because he had any particular interest in 
carrying out the letter of the law. There was no reason beyond hatred, and 
no legal manoeuver that could save me. 

"I would never hurt him. I don't expect you to believe me, but I never 
forced him to do anything he didn't want to do."

He laughed and returned his answer with a haughty stare. "Phillip's 
how old? Ten, going on eleven? How is he supposed to know what he wants? 
That's why they call it child abuse. Oh, I know pedophiliacs like you convince 
themselves otherwise. Hell, you probably think it's actually good for him. 
'Little Phillip only does what he wants. Of course he wants my dick up his 
hiney.' And the rest of the crap you perverts go on with. It makes me want 
to laugh. You're an evil bastard, Young. You'll go to hell for this one."

I turned away again. Only an hour earlier Phillip and I had made love. 
He had smiled and turned about willingly, presenting his bottom for my 
adoration. Or was it love? Had I deluded myself? Had I done something evil, 
taken advantage of his youth and inexperience, his overpowering desire to make 
me happy? I cursed myself and for the first time in my life, wished I was 
dead.

A minute later Phillip stumbled from the kitchen. His clothes, once 
neatly pressed so that he could make a good first impression with the 
headmaster of his new school, were disturbed. His styled hair was in disarray, 
his cheeks reddened and still wet with tears. His head was lowered as he 
entered and uncertainly crossed the room to where his mother was standing. She 
had yet to say a single word. Her arms enclosed him and she glared at me 
angrily from behind him. Suddenly I was reminded of the fragile boy I had 
rescued from the Pierce Hall. I could not live and see Phillip return there.

"I'll give you a written confession, Skolnicki," I said quietly. "Just 
let him go. Leave him out of this. He can live here with his mother for as 
long as they want."

"NO! Don't do it!" Phillip shouted. He spun around, twisting away from 
his mother. "NO! NO! NO!" he screamed.

"Phillip, I have to do this. You'll be okay here with your mother."

"They'll take you to jail, I know they will. I love you. I won't let you 
do this. I won't let them put you in jail," Phillip cried.

Skolnicki stepped forward. "It really doesn't matter. You see boy, 
with what they just took out of you, he doesn't need to confess. He's guilty 
as hell."

"But you're wrong," Phillip insisted. "We love each other."

"Hush Phillip," Kathleen interrupted insistently. "You'll only make it 
worse."

"I won't! He didn't make me do anything I didn't want to do! He'd 
never do that to me. I wanted to do everything."

"Phillip," I warned. I shook my head and glared at him.

"It's true! I'm gay! I wanted someone to fuck me! That all! I never 
wanted to get him into trouble. He never forced me to anything because he 
didn't have to." 

Phillip stormed out of the room, pushing past the two police officers 
who stepped back as if frightened that they could be exposed to a homosexual 
disease by mere proximity. I heard him wailing as he ran through the house.

"Kathleen," I began. "Will you go to him? I'm afraid what he might do to 
himself. You know what he's like. I don't want him to hurt himself."

She nodded and quickly followed her distraught son. I leaned against the 
wall, rallying my thoughts and applying reason. So much was at stake. I needed 
to use all my experience to manipulate the situation to my advantage when it 
came to court. I also needed to keep Phillip away from Pierce Hall.

"If he hurts himself I'll hold you responsible. He's on medication. He's 
already tried once! If he hurts himself we'll soon see how far due process 
extends. You officers are witnesses," I smiled encouragingly as I backed
off to see what would follow. "You saw what happened."

"The boy was subjected to a physical examination. The boy's unstable, 
that's all!" Skolnicki interjected.

"All the more reason to use caution in an investigation. He's a child. 
You're supposed to protect him, not ram a god-damn tube up his rectum and pump 
out his insides until he screams in pain."

"You're not going to get out of this one. I've got the evidence I need 
right here to convict you," Skolnicki said triumphantly as he pulled a small 
film canister from his pocket. "I've got photographs of you and the boy. My 
officer tells me you sucked him off, Young. These photos are the proof. This 
time Phillip can't lie about it and say that he was kicked in the balls."

"You haven't won yet," I countered. "This might turn out like the Lawson 
and Chalmers cases."

Suddenly Skolnicki started towards the door. "You men get back to the 
search. I want every dirty bit of evidence you can find. There's going to be 
magazines or videos, and check everything on his computer." 

He waited until all but one of the policemen left. "And you, Counsellor, 
I have enough already for an arrest. The sergeant here will read you your 
Miranda warning and then you and I are going downtown for a little talk."



Chapter 10. Bail Denied



"How's he doing?" I asked Kathleen for the third time in as many 
minutes.

She smiled and leaned closer to the round hole in the plexiglass. 
"He's doing fine. He's waiting outside in the car. He's being so good."

"He's a great kid," I sighed wistfully as my thoughts focused on Phillip.
I remembered him lounging on the beachtowel, proudly displaying his 
genitalia as he told me how much fun he was having. A minute later he 
wanted to have sex again. It was the third time that day and the sun
had yet to reach it's highest point. 

"He's worried about you," Kathleen said quietly.

I looked up quickly, banishing my fond memory of what happened on the
beach. "That makes two of us. Mostly I worry about him," I said 
absently. I found it very hard to concentrate. 

"The Judge denied bail because of him," Kathleen said slowly.

"I guess," I answered noncommintantly.

"It was because you wouldn't send Phillip away from the house."

"More or less. I want it to be his home, Kathleen. I'm setting up a 
trust fund for him. My firm is handling it. I don't want Phillip to know about 
it."

For nearly a minute we regarded each other without speaking. Finally, 
Kathleen broke the silence.

"He was questioned again yesterday. For three hours. He was exhausted 
afterwards. And always they ask him the same questions about what you did to 
him. Phillip says they don't believe him. He hasn't told them anything, of 
course. He won't say how he got the bruises on his bottom."

I nodded and let out a long sigh. "They're looking for something. They 
must be. I don't know what they're after, Kathleen. I mean with the pictures 
and everything, they must have enough on me by now. And with what they
found, well there's only one way his butt could get bruised like that, and 
it'll put me away for five years at least."

Kathleen smiled weakly. "They had him at the hospital again. Another 
doctor examined him."

I nodded again. It was the fourth time. "Hm,... they did? How's 
Phillip handling it?"

"He's okay. The examination was pretty embarrassing for him. They had 
a woman do it this time. She's supposed to be an expert in the sexual abuse
of boys. She's from some big hospital in New York, I think."

"I still don't understand why they haven't let up. They have the 
photographs of us that they took at the house. With evidence like that, and 
a medical report, it shouldn't be all that difficult to get a conviction for 
child abuse."

There was a hint of a smile on Kathleen's face. It disturbed me. Perhaps 
she was glad I would be convicted. It left me thinking that Phillip would be 
better off if I was out of his life. I looked around, covering the room with a 
single glance. It had always been a depressing place to interview clients, but 
it was even worse from my side of the window. The walls were grey-green, the 
floor of black and white vinyl tiles covered in scraped and drops of grey-
green paint. Despite the fact that I had a desperate longing to see him, I was 
grateful that Phillip was not allowed to visit me. There was a humming sound 
from an adjoining room and a door slammed shut. Always doors slammed shut. 
It was a sound I was quickly becoming used to.

"Kathleen,... will you do something for me?" I asked. She nodded 
slightly. "Will you tell Phillip I love him?"

"I think he already knows that," she replied cheerfully. "I never 
thought I'd be doing this," she sniffed. "Sitting here,... talking to my ten-
year-old son's lover,... wanting you to get out so you could be with Phillip 
again. He cries every night. I can't stand it! I don't care that he loves you. 
I always wondered whether he was going to be gay. There are things a mother 
notices, you know. I think I was expecting him to come out sooner or later, 
but I didn't want it to happen like this."

"I'm sorry, Kathleen. I never wanted this to happen either. I want him
to be happy."

She took a deep breath. "I got a phone call from Roger this morning."

"The judge from Phillip's case?"

"No! Not him!"

"Chuck Lawson? He called you?" I asked.

She nodded. "He told me that he took you and Phillip to that place, 
the island near Haiti in his aeroplane," she said quietly. 

I lifted my head to meet her eyes. "Yes," I prompted casually.

"Roger told me a lot."

"And?"

"I told him things as well." She glanced away. "He already knew about 
Phillip and you, did you realize that?"

"I figured it out. Skolnicki told me that Chuck paid to have me on the 
Chalmers' case. It had to be because of Phillip."

"Roger said if any man was going to be Phillip's lover, he was glad it 
was you who loved him. I think he likes you."

I shrugged and leaned back in the uncomfortable straight-backed chair. 
What did it matter that Lawson knew I loved Phillip, even if Phillip was his 
son? He was hardly in a position to help me or hurt me. My mind felt dull, 
as much from the boredom of doing nothing as from the soporific environment of 
incarceration. 

"Roger asked me to give you a message," Kathleen said slowly.

Something in her tone made me sit up again. I casually glanced around 
the room again, noting that the sole guard was busy doing a cross-word 
puzzle on the back of the newspaper he had been reading. I leaned forward 
and turned my head slightly so that Kathleen could speak quietly.

"He said you'd understand when I told you he would always take care of 
Phillip."

"That's nice of him," I replied sarcastically.

"Give him a chance," Kathleen said ambiguously. "You don't understand, 
do you?"

"What's there to understand, Kathleen. I'm in jail, with no chance of 
bail and looking to spend the next five years, and Lawson will take care of 
his own son. I've already made arrangements for Phillip and you. I don't 
need his help."

"I think you do," She glared at me. "You're in jail and he isn't!" she 
added flatly.

I shuddered, remembering Lawson's immediate infatuation with Phillip. 
Was it possible that Lawson was planning on 'taking care of Phillip' the 
same way that I did. The mere thought of another man touching Phillip's 
perfect pre-teen body turned my stomach. I sighed, feeling an overwhelming 
sense of inevitability. His words came back to me and, like the razor wire 
outside the barred windows, each strand tore through my mind and left a gaping 
wound.

"They don't have the photographs," Kathleen whispered.

I sat up quickly. "What?"

"Not the ones of Phillip, Roger couldn't do anything about those."

"The photographs they took of us outside,..."

"Roger said they were fogged so badly you could hardly see the house, 
let alone what you were doing to Phillip," Kathleen finished with more than 
a hint of a smile. Her head tilted away as she glanced at the guard. "That's 
what has them so bothered."

"But there's always Phillip? They'll have the evidence of the medical 
exams. There's only one way a boy's anus gets to look like Phillip's. And 
the policeman who took the photographs." I smiled slightly. "Of course!"

"What is it?"

"Well the photos were taken illegally because the officer had no 
reason to be there. He'll never take the stand. That leaves only the 
physical injuries."

I did not mention that it also left Phillip and his mother in a very 
exposed position. 

Kathleen nodded and smiled conspiratorially. "That's what Roger said. It 
takes a big penis to leave bruises, but it doesn't have to be yours, does it?"

My mouth opened. "If not mine, then whose?"

Kathleen shrugged, still smiling. "I imagine Phillip won't have too much 
to say about it. Who he chooses to have sex with is no one else's business but 
his own. He told me that after they arrested you."

"I don't want Phillip to lie for me," I said suddenly. "I've put him 
through too much pain already. I've already ruined his life," I added 
guiltily. "None of this would have happened if I had been,..."

"Shut up," Kathleen said angrily. "For God's sake Paul, Phillip needs 
you. He got himself into this mess, not you. If it wasn't for you he'd still 
be sitting in Pierce Hall. He wasn't going on the stand to put Doctor Chalmers 
in prison, and he definitely won't do that to you. He'll lie is he has to."

I glared at her. "It's my fault, Kathleen. Phillip only went to the 
bathroom because of me. I,... I don't want him telling lies as he grows up."

"No! Listen to me. I know what happened," she explained stoically. 
"Phillip went there the first time because that's the way he is. He showed you 
his dick because he wanted to. He can't help it. If it wasn't you he met, it 
would have been some other man he had sex with. He was lucky he fell in love 
with you before it happened. Frankly, I'm glad he met up with you. When you 
think of the perverts who are out there ready to take advantage of boys like 
Phillip. He could have been killed. He didn't lie last time to save himself."

"What do you mean?" I asked cautiously.

"You don't understand, do you?" Kathleen said. "He lied so he could be
with you. He loves you. He'll do anything to be with you, including lie in
court."

I smiled. "Now what?" I posed carefully. "Skolnicki doesn't have the 
evidence for a prima facie case,... so he'll try to get a conviction by 
putting Phillip on trial. That's why he's having the examinations done by 
different doctors. I know the way he works, Kathleen. God, I've seen him in 
action often enough."

"What do you mean?" she asked quickly. "I hoped it would end now there's 
no proof that he did anything with you."

"There's still a link. Phillip was staying at my house. His body had 
visible indications of recent anal intercourse. They'll go through the doctors 
one by one and show pictures. Skolnicki won't even mention how he found out 
about us,... or if he does he'll try to minimize the implications of that 
the police screwed up and mishandled the evidence. Then he'll put Phillip on 
the stand."

"Phillip won't say anything," Kathleen said hotly. "He'll protect you no 
matter what. He's always been that way, but he's also a very smart boy. 
He'll do whatever it takes to get what he wants."

I shook my head slowly. "It won't work. Remember Skolnicki? You've 
talked with him so you have to know how he works. He's a mean bastard, and 
he's very clever. He'll take Phillip apart piece by piece until he hates 
himself. He won't even know it's happening until it's too late. Then he'll 
break down. I won't see Phillip exposed to that bastard. I've hurt him enough. 
I love him too much to put him through that."

"I know my son better than you do it seems, Mr. Young. He loves you with 
all his heart. My Phillip, your Phillip, will do whatever it takes to get 
you back. He'll lie if he has to. He'll lie because he loves you."



Chapter 11. The Hearing



"Everybody please rise. The Fairford County Trial Court of the State 
of Maryland is now in session, Judge Miriam Webster presiding."

A moment later the judge flowed into the courtroom and took her place 
behind the yellow-stained oak bench. It had been a long morning, with two 
doctors giving graphic testimony about the details of Phillip's body and the 
likelihood it had been subjected to anal coitus. By the time Skolnicki had 
finished, it seemed high unlikely that any of the jury members continued to 
have doubts that the slender suntanned boy who was currently sitting in the 
Judge's private chambers had engaged in intercourse with an adult male. 

Skolnicki, in his typical overbearing fashion, had even tried to get the 
doctors to commit to forced intercourse, however there were no direct 
indications of rape such as bruising on other parts of the child's body. 
Still, he finished the medical evaluation with flair equal to the best 
attorneys. After the testimony of the woman doctor on the condition of the 
boy's anus, and her conclusions that he had been penetrated anally on numerous 
occasions over a period of several weeks, on cross-examination she answered 
that it might have been consensual, but it was unlikely. On re-direct, 
Skolnicki had three questions. 

"Could you review the boy's overall physical condition as it pertains to 
the case again?"

"The subject was a ten-year-old boy. There were no indications of sexual 
maturity. He was of light build." She consulted her notes. "He weighed 71 
pounds,... and he was 54 inches high, both in the lower percentile for his age 
group. His ischia width was 5.1 inches," she said pointedly.

"Could you explain to the jury the importance of the boy's ischia 
width?"

"The ischia width is the male equivalent of the pelvic link. It's a 
measurement of the size of the pelvis. Taking a measurement around the hips 
doesn't measure the inner capacity of the pelvis for a number of reasons 
such as the presence of fat. A normal ischia width for a ten-year-old boy is a 
little less than six inches. The boy was quite slender with narrow hips."

"Could you explain what that means with regard to your conclusions on 
the type of sexual imposition we have been talking about this morning?"

"Certainly. The subject has a small pelvis, especially for a boy of 
his age. Penetration by large penis, an adult-sized penis, such as is 
indicated by the bruising and small fissures around the boy's anus, would be 
exceedingly painful for him. There were also a laceration deep inside the 
rectum. Those injuries are consistent with penetration of the anus by a 
large penis. In my professional opinion a boy would not willingly subject 
himself to injuries and pain like that. It's not something that a boy would 
ever do voluntarily. He would have to be forced to have intercourse, especially
after the first time."

"Thank you, Doctor Everton. The witness is yours for re-cross, 
Counsellor."

Skolnicki moved back to the Prosecutor's table and sat down with a 
satisfied smile on his face. My senior associate stood up and walked slowly up 
to the witness box.

"Doctor Everton, you've said that the injuries are consistent with 
penetration by an adult-sized penis. Were there any indications that an adult-
sized penis has actually been inside the boy,... and not something else,...
such as a foreign object?" he asked after a moment's deliberation.

"There was no sign of semen, if that's what you mean. I've already 
addressed that. I didn't examine the boy until three days after the incident 
was first investigated."

"However, you have seen the investigation report from the scene and 
the medical examination that was done on the boy later on at the hospital. 
There was no mention of semen in either case, was there?"

"That's correct. There are several explanations for the absence of 
seminal fluid. The boy may have had a recent bowel movement. The accused may 
have employed a condom. He may have withdrawn prior to ejaculation,... There 
are lots of reasons why there was no semen found inside him."

"Thank you for your speculation, Doctor. Isn't it also true that the 
penetration could have been done by a foreign object?"

"It's possible," she said uncertainly.

"Have you seen or heard of other instances of young boys inserting 
things into their bodies?"

"Occasionally," the doctor equivocated. "Emergency rooms report the 
occasional problem."

"What types of objects are used?"

"Pardon?"

"When a boy inserts something into his anus, what types of objects are 
used? For example, what do emergency rooms report finding? Various things from 
around the house, for example?"

"Objection! The witness is being led! The question has no bearing on the 
prior testimony of this witness."

"The question is not irrelevant, Your Honor. The Prosecution has not 
demonstrated that the injuries were caused by an adult penis."

"The Defense can recall the witness at a later time, Your Honor!"

"Objection over-ruled! The witness is to answer the question."

"I have read reports of various things being found within the rectum, 
usually they are small objects that were found around the boy's home."

"And larger things, such as bananas and appropriately shaped toys? 
Have they been found?"

"Yes! Occasionally!"

"And is it true that some of these objects that are induced into a boy's 
anus can be as large as an adult-sized penis? A banana, for example, is
about the same size as the average man's penis isn't it?"

"It's possible. However, it would be extremely painful!"

"You're speculating again, Doctor. Please try to answer yes or no. I 
have just one more question, and it does call for some speculation on your 
part. Why would a boy subject himself to the pain of inserting something the 
size of a banana in his rectum?"

"I,... I suppose because the boy wants the experience."

"Because the boy wants the experience? What does that mean, Doctor?"

"Um, well if the boy was developing homosexual tendencies, he might 
try it to see how it feels."

"Oh! So what you're saying is that a boy might subject himself to 
considerable pain and injury to find out how anal sex feels?" Seidman asked 
casually. 

He appeared to be flippant, his questions almost without deliberation. 
Instead, I knew him to be highly structured and his questions carefully
planned to make his case successful. I breathed out in relief.

"That might happen occasionally. In my professional opinion that is 
not the case here," the Doctor declared emphatically.

"Thank you for your speculation again, Doctor," Seidman finished. "Oh, 
I'm sorry, Doctor there is just one matter. If a boy was to do such a thing,... 
is it something he might repeat. Would this be a one-time-only thing?"

"I don't know. If a boy liked how it felt, he might very likely repeat it."

The jury did not seem to pick up on the contradiction and Seidman did 
not press the matter. There was time for that when he made his closing 
argument. I slumped back. Now, the only question that remained in their 
minds was whether the accused was the man responsible for the boy's sexual 
abuse. 

From my seat on the sidelines, it was obvious that they had all been 
as uncomfortable with the pictures shown on the overhead projector as I had 
been. There were color pictures of Phillip's lower back and buttocks, 
frontal nudes, several high-resolution close-ups of his anal region. There 
were bruises only around his anus, indications according to the doctors that 
the muscular tissue had been stretched beyond its normal elasticity causing 
the blood vessels to be torn, thereby causing the bruising. The injuries 
were consistent with those of other young males who had been subjected to 
sexual penetration. On and on it went, until my stomach was ready to exhaust 
its contents. 

Frontally at least, the photographs showed the chest and lower abdomen 
of the unnamed victim to be in normal physical condition for a pre-teen boy 
you had not reached sexual maturity. That was how Phillip was being portrayed, 
as an unfortunate victim who had been forcibly sodomized. There was nothing 
I could do to convince them otherwise. Always, Phillip had been an equal 
partner, matching my initiatives with desires of his own.

"Your Honor, the Prosecution would now like to present the testimony 
of the boy involved in the case. This is our last witness. I think we can 
finish the Prosecution's presentation this afternoon."

"Mr. Skolnicki, I understand that the boy is already in my chambers. 
Is that correct?"

Skolnicki gave me a quick glance. This was his moment of triumph. I sank 
lower, hating myself for allowing the situation to eventuate. However, I had 
no choice in the matter. My professional advice was ignored. Phillip had 
decided for himself.

"Yes, Your Honor. If we could adjourn to your chambers? An audio link 
has been set up to this room."

The judge stood, rearranged her robe, and exited. She was followed by 
four people, two from the Prosecutor's Office, and two from my firm. Minutes 
passed as the ground rules were established. Then without warning, the 
speakers crackled.

"This is Judge Webster. The next part of the testimony in case number 
41890, the State of Maryland versus Paul Young, will be conducted in closed 
chambers. The jury members should understand that this is normal procedure 
when a minor child is involved in cases of sexual abuse. The child, in this 
case a ten-year-old boy will not be identified by his surname. Nor will any 
testimony be given that will reveal his identity, other than his first name 
which is Phillip. Mr. Skolnicki and Mr. Seidman, I trust you will follow the 
rules I have laid out for you. Phillip, there is no reason to be frightened. 
All you have to do is tell the truth and nothing but the truth."

"Yes Your Honor," Phillip said softly. 

His voice, clear and musical rang in my ears. I had not heard his 
voice for nearly a month. He seemed distant. He seemed more grown-up. He 
seemed to be saying, 'I love you'. The next voice I heard was Skolnicki's.

"Phillip, this morning there was testimony from four doctors about the 
condition of your body on the morning of June 28th and the next few days after 
that when you were examined. That was quite a long while ago, but I wonder 
if you can remember back that far?"

"Yes! I'll never forget it!"

"There were injuries on your body that morning, weren't there?"

"I guess."

"Your bottom was sore, wasn't it?"

"It might have been. I don't remember."

"Please try to answer yes or no, Phillip."

"Were there bruises on your bottom?"

"I don't know, I can't see back there."

Several of the jury members laughed. It seemed as if they were as 
captivated by the beautiful voice as I was. I sat up, listening to every word. 
It was part of a pattern I had seen Skolnicki use before. The witness was 
allowed to think they were in control, engaging in pleasant, often amusing 
banter until he brought it to a halt. He was playing with Phillip like a 
puppeteer.

"Do you like living at Mr. Young's house?"

"It's cool! I used to live in a trailer until he got guardianship of 
me. It's much nicer living at his house."

"He's been good to you hasn't he?"

"What do you mean by good?"

"He buys you nice things like expensive clothes, and that fancy new 
mini-van your mom drives?"

"Yes! He bought the car, but only because Mom's car was dangerous and he 
didn't want to see me get injured. And he's only bought me a few clothes 
like some shorts and T-shirts. They weren't very expensive. He isn't like 
that!"

"Like what, Phillip?"

"The way you're making him sound! Like he buys me nice things so I'll 
like him more."

"Oh! Is that how it sounded? I'm sorry. Why do you think he buys nice 
things for you?"

"I guess because he likes me."

"For no other reason?"

"He wants to make me happy," Phillip volunteered.

"Does he ever hurt you?"

"NO!"

"Not even by accident?"

"NO!"

It had started. I took a deep breath and wondered how long Phillip would 
last before Skolnicki won. At best, he would last for a few minutes before
he crumbled. Skolnicki would either wear him down or use questions that
were calculated to torment him to the point of losing control. At that moment.
I hated myself so much that I wanted to be dead. 

"Do you like to be around him a lot?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"Because he's really nice to me. I never had a father. That's why I like 
to be around him. He's like a father and best friend all in one."

"What sort of things do you do with him?"

"Um,... lots of things. When we were on holidays we went swimming 
together all the time. And we sailed a lot. He taught me how to sail, 
and he taught me how to ride a horse. At night we played chess, 
and we read books together."

"Do you sleep in his bedroom, Phillip?"

"Sometimes."

"Why?"

"Because I get lonely."

"What happens when you're in bed with him?"

"I sleep of course!"

"Nothing else happens?"

"NO!"

"Do you like it when he plays with you?"

"Yes," Phillip answered cautiously.

"Does he touch your body when you're in bed with him?"

"Sometimes we cuddle or he tickles me."

"Does he touch your penis? You know what a penis is, don't you?"

"Yes I know! I'm not an idiot!"

"Does he touch your penis?"

"NO!"

"Do you touch his penis?"

"Sometimes."

I groaned inwardly and half-closed my eyes. 

"Why do you touch his?"

"Because,... I don't know. I guess because it feels good."

"Does he ask you to touch his penis?"

"NO! He lets me do it for a few seconds and then tells me to stop."

"Yes!"

"Why do you think he does that, Phillip?"

"I don't know. I guess 'cause I'm not supposed to do it."

"Does his penis get bigger?"

"Sometimes,... only when he's asleep."

"And when he's awake, does it get bigger then?"

"NO!"

"Phillip, I want you to remember about the special promise you made to 
the Judge. You said you would tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth."

"So? It doesn't get bigger. He makes me stop touching it when he's awake."

"On the night of June 27, that's the night before I came to Mr. 
Young's house. Did you go outside on the deck?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"It was nice outside."

"What had you been doing inside?"

Phillip hesitated. This was a lie of an entirely different nature. He 
could not answer with a simple 'yes' or 'no'. This was how Skolnicki would 
attempt to get through his barrier. He would make him fabricate his story 
and then find the inconsistencies one by one.

"Nothing!" Phillip answered adamantly.

"You just weren't doing nothing, were you? You were naked when you 
went outside, weren't you? You didn't have any clothes on, no pajamas, 
nothing?"

"I guess. Yes, I was naked."

"And Mr. Young, was he naked too?"

"Yes!"

"Why were you naked?"

"Because I like to sleep like that. It feels nice."

"What happened inside the house, Phillip?"

"Do I have to answer?"

"Yes, Phillip. You have to answer," Webster replied gently. "Tell us 
what happened inside the house."

"Okay! Nothing happened!"

"No, Phillip, you have to answer the question. Nothing is not an answer, 
I'm afraid," Webster urged.

There was a long pause and I prayed for Seidman to step into the battle. I was
depending of him to defend Phillip. So far he was very quiet, as if waiting. 
I could not understand why he had not objected. At the least he could have 
confused the jury with continual objections.

"I was doing it, okay! And he found me!" Phillip said angrily.

"What were you doing when he found you?"

I started to smile. Phillip was going to be a lawyer, a very good 
lawyer. He had gotten Skolnicki to venture on a fishing expedition
and he had just set the bait on a very sharp hook. 

"Nothing!"

"Answer the question please, Phillip."

"I can't! You don't understand."

"Phillip, I know you understand the charges against Mr. Young, and I'm 
sure you're very fond of him, but you have to tell the truth."

"I can't! I can't help being the way I am any more than he can help 
being Jewish! I didn't have any say in it. I was born that way. But he can 
change!"

"Your Honor," Skolnicki interrupted.

"Let him finish! Go on, Phillip."

"He can become a Christian, or a Buddhist, or anything he wants. I don't 
have a choice."

"What are you talking about, Phillip?" Webster asked calmly.

There was a long break. I clenched my fists as I waited. Perhaps I
should have been surprised by Phillip's performance. I was not. He was
a highly intelligent boy who had figured out what to do by himself. When
he started to speak, his voice trembled, adding a sense of truth that 
would not have been there otherwise. It was an emotionally
charged statement that left the jury on edge, as much becuase of the content
as the high pitch of his voice. The witness was a ten-year-old boy. 

"I'm gay. I know I am! I've known it since I was little. At first I just 
liked to look at pictures in clothing ads, you know like in the booklets 
inside the Sunday paper. And then, maybe a few months ago I started to 
wonder what it would feel like, you know, to do what gay guys do."

"Your Honor, could we please get back to testimony."

"Your Honor, I think this is testimony."

"I'm not sure I agree, Mr. Seidman, but I'll let him continue for 
another minute."

"Your honor, is what I am so bad? If what Mr. Young is supposed to 
have done to me is so terrible, and I wanted him to do it, then aren't I 
just as guilty. That boy who shot the kids at the school, that was a 
terrible thing, wasn't it?"

"Yes it was, Phillip. I don't think it has any relevance here though. 
You didn't kill anyone."

"Yes it does, Your Honor. That boy is going to be tried as an adult, 
isn't he? Because of what he did being so bad? If what I'm supposed to have 
done with Paul is so bad, then why aren't I being tried as well. I should be 
tried as an adult."

"The law doesn't work like that, Phillip."

"Why not?"

"Because if you did what Mr. Young is charged with, and you were 
considered an adult, then there wouldn't have been a crime in this state."

"It's okay for adults to have sex, but not kids? Who made that rule? Mr. 
Skolnicki?"

Without the Judge present in the courtroom, the jury laughed.

"No Phillip!" the Judge replied seriously. "It's against the law for 
an adult to have sex with a boy your age."

"What if the boy wanted to? What if he wanted to do it more than 
anything in the whole world?"

"It doesn't matter. It's still wrong. That's why it's against the law."

"But if it's so terribly wrong, and I did it because I wanted to, then 
why aren't I guilty of a crime? Why isn't it the same as the boy who killed 
the kids at school?"

"In a way, I agree with you. But the law says otherwise. You're a very 
intelligent young man," the Judge said admiringly. "Phillip, I've given you 
more than a minute. You have to answer Mr. Skolnicki's questions now."

I sat back, wondering what Phillip would do next. If it was me, I 
would take Skolnicki on directly. However, Phillip was a ten-year-old boy.

"Phillip, I'm glad you got that off your chest," Skolnicki said 
deprecatingly. "Now I want you to try to answer yes or no from now on, okay. 
I'll try to keep the questions very simple. Does Mr. Young talk to you about 
sex?"

"Yes!"

"Does he talk to you about homosexuality, about being gay?"

"Yes!"

"Did he talk to you about gay things on the night of June 27, then 
night,..."

"You don't have to remind me. I remember! Yes, he did."

"What did you talk about?"

"Lots of things!"

"Did you talk about anal sex?"

"Some!"

"Yes or no please."

"Yes!"

"What did Mr. Young tell you?"

"I should be careful if I did it. He said it would hurt a lot and I 
should be careful."

"What else did he tell you?"

"He told me that was how AIDS got transmitted. So I had to be very 
careful who I did it with because it could kill me."

"Why did he tell you these things?"

"Because,... because I was already doing stuff."

"What were you already doing?"

"Nothing!"

"You have to answer his question, Phillip," Seidman said gently. "You 
can refuse to, but you know what that means."

"What were you doing with Mr. Young?"

"Nothing!"

"Phillip," the Judge warned. "At your age, I really can't hold you in 
contempt. However, you have promised to tell the truth, remember."

"I,... I,... I,... I can't!"

"That night, you were seen on the deck by an undercover policeman, 
Phillip. Young was sucking your penis. We know what he does with you. He has 
sex with you, doesn't he?"

"NO! NO! NO!" Phillip shouted.

"Objection, Your Honor!"

"Sustained! All reference to what was or was not seen on the deck is 
stricken from the record. The jury is to disregard Mr. Skolnicki's last 
statement."

It was too late. Skolnicki had told the jury what they would never be 
told in testimony. It was a trick I had used myself on ocassion.

"I hate all of you!"

"Phillip!"

"I love him! He loves me back! He'd never do that! NEVER!"

"Do what, Phillip?"

"Do what you said! I wanted him to so badly. I want him to do it to 
me, but he won't!"

"What do you want him to do to you?"

"Nothing!"

"Phillip, I'm going to show you some photograph. This one," Skolnicki 
said flatly, "is State's Exhibit Number 38. Phillip, do you know what
this is a photograph of?"

There was a long pause before Phillip answered softly. "Yes."

I closed my eyes. If Skolnicki was going to triumph this was the time.

"What is it a photograph of?"

"It's a picture of,..."

"Yes, Phillip?" Skolnicki prompted urgently. "Could you tell me what 
you see?"

I heard the agression building as his voice grated. Exhibit 38 was an
eight by ten color photograph of Phillip's lower abdomen. From his 
position, I presumed that he had been placed on an examination table 
that was normally used by gynacologists. With his legs spread far 
apart and lifted high in the air, his puny genitals were openly 
displayed. His buttocks were similarly parted to reveal his anus.

"It's my butt," Phillip finally blurted out. 

Skolnicki wasted no time. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. You wouldn't show it to me otherwise."

"That's true. Are you aware that this photograph was taken on the morning
of June 28?"

"Yes!"

"Phillip, earlier today we heard testimony from the doctors who examined you. They talked about the dark area around your anus. They said it was bruised."

I took a deep breath as Skolnicki closed for the kill. The bruises formed a 
nearly perfect circle about two inches in diameter. It was slightly more than the width of my penis because his anus flexed back and forth as my penis moved inside him. Against the pinkish flesh of his crack, the purple-brown bruises were frighteningly dark. 

"Was your anus sore that morning?"

"My anus?" Phillip asked uncertainly.

"You know what your anus is, don't you?"

"Yes!"

"Was it sore?"

"I don't remember."

"Do you remember how it got so bruised?" Skolnicki persisted.

"Kind of."

I could hear Phillip's voice tremble with nervousness. Alone with me, 
he had been proud of the darkened region that evidenced our frequent 
coupling. Now, he was being forced to deny it, to dismiss its significance, 
to admit that it was the result of depravity.

"How did it happen,... exactly?"

"I forget,... exactly."

Several members of the jury smiled. The unseen boy was more than a match 
for his inquisitor. No matter what happened, I knew I would always be 
proud of him.

"The doctors testified that a boy's anus looks like this after he's had 
anal sex with an grown man. Do you know why?"

"I guess because a man has a big penis and it would have to stretch a 
lot for it to go inside. I guess that could leave bruises."

"If you had sex with boy your own age would your anus look like this 
afterwards?"

"No,... not unless he had a really big one," Phillip joked. "It would 
have to be a whole lot bigger than mine."

"So the only way your anus could become bruised the way it is in the
photo, is for you to have sex with a man?"

"Hm,... if you say so Mister Skolnicki."

'Good for you Phillip,' I wanted to shout. Instead, I bit my lip. I took
a deep breath and wondered whether Skolnicki would let him get away with it.
I hoped, pleaded, prayed, that Phillip was ready for what was going to 
happen next.
   
"Is that how your anus came to look like this?" Skolnicki demanded 
impatiently.

"I don't remember," Phillip replied adamantly.

"Does the defandant, Mr. Young, know your anus looks like this?"

"Yes!"

"Does he know why it's bruised?"

"I guess."

"You guess? That's not good enough. Answer yes or no, Phillip!"

"Yes!"

"So Mr. Young knows, but you don't remember? Is that what you're telling
the Court?"

"I can't tell you!"

"Why?"

"I don't want to!"

"It isn't a matter of not wanting to tell, Phillip," the Judge intoned. 
"You've promised to tell the truth. That's what you have to do."

"I can't!" Phillip countered angrily. "I won't answer the question."

"You have to answer his questions."

"Did Mr. Young put his penis in your bottom?" Skolnicki asked brusquely.

"You want me to say he fucked me in the ass! That's what you want me to 
say, isn't it? You want to know how I got the bruises on my butt? 
I'll tell you! I put a god-damn screwdriver up my butt!" Phillip cried.

"You what?"

"I told you," Phillip sobbed. "I pushed a screwdriver up my butt."

There was a momentary pause as Skolnicki walked blindly into the ten-
year-old boy's carefully laid trap. Skolnicki had gone fishing and caught a 
shark. He was about to be devoured by a mere child. It had been Phillip's
game all along. He had created the situation. Judge, Jury, Prosecutor, all
of them had been mislead. What had been happening since he had taken 
the stand had been exactly what Phillip wanted. He was a highly intelligent
boy who would do whatever it took to get what he wanted. He delivered the
coup de grace with the panache of an experienced trial lawyer.

"Come on, Phillip. Do you really expect us to believe that. It might 
account for the tear in your rectum, but nothing else."

"I'm not a complete idiot," Phillip replied calmly. "Do you think I'm 
dumb enough to stick the blade up there. I really hurt myself doing 
something like that. I do it with the handle part."

"Phillip, I find this very difficult to believe," Skolnicki announced 
flatly.

"It's not really a screwdriver because it's got a ratchet thing 
inside, and it's much thicker than a screwdriver. I can get most of the handle 
inside me. I like how it feels. It only hurts for a few minutes."

"God!" Judge Webster breathed out. 

"I can't help it," Phillip continued. He was backing off, allowing time
for the hook to set. He reeled Skolnicki in like a professional.

"Your Honor," Skolnicki interrupted.

"What happened on June 27, Phillip?"

"Paul found me in his room. I went there to so I could pretend it was him. I 
was bleeding because I pushed it in too far. He cleaned me up, and then we 
went outside on the deck to talk about it."

I tried my best to camouflage my smile even as I made a mental image 
to lecture him about not telling lies, even white lies, even lies that saved 
me from five years in the state prison system. That was my responsibility as 
his legal guardian. As his friend and lover, I wanted to hug and kiss him, and 
tell him how much I loved him. He was one incredible boy.

"What happened then, Phillip?"

"Nothing!"

"Nothing still isn't an answer."

"I know. I told him I was hurting inside,... where the screwdriver thing 
had been. He believed me and then he knelt down in front of me. I think he 
thought I was still bleeding,... only it usually stops as soon as I take it 
out. I wanted him to touch me so bad."

"Did he touch your penis?" Skolnicki demanded.

"What's with you and this touching thing? No, he didn't touch me!"

"Is Mr. Young gay?"

"No! He's not like that. He doesn't like men!"

"You mean he likes boys. Is that it?" Skolnicki snarled. He was back on 
the attack again.

"Maybe. He likes me and I'm a boy! No, he loves me! And I love him back!" 
Phillip retorted adamantly.

"Does he like to have sex with boys?"

"NO!.... NO!.... I don't know!" Phillip replied. 

He was suddenly subdued. He was giving Skolnicki some more line, line
to run on so that he could set the hook even deeper.

"You don't know? Come on, Phillip. You're a smart boy. You can do better 
than that," Skolnicki taunted.

"I don't know," Phillip answered flatly. His voice wavered as the lie 
formed. "He might like boys like that. All I know is he hasn't had sex with 
me."

"He didn't suck your penis that night?" Skolnicki tormented.

"NO! I rubbed it in his face. He made me stop. He understands me! No one 
else does," Phillip said hotly.

"What do you mean by he understands you?" the Judge asked gently.

"We talk about it, about me being gay and all. I know I can't change 
what I am. Paul said that's the way I am and there's nothing I can do about it, 
so I have to learn to live with it. One day I'll meet someone I love. Then 
I'll be happy. Until then,... well I know how to be careful now. I know I 
shouldn't use a screwdriver, that's for sure."

Again the jury laughed. It was impossible not to laugh with them. From 
the two speakers we listened with a ten-year-old boy grappling with his 
sexuality, yet still confident. He was triumphant, and he knew it. 

Almost a minute paused before Skolnicki spoke again. 

"You're saying that Mr. Young did not suck your penis?"

"Yes!" Phillip said with grim determination. "He's never done that!"

"Did Mr. Young ever try to insert his penis in your bottom?"

"Get real! Don't you listen? No, Paul has not tried to insert his,... He 
hasn't done that to me, and he won't! Ever!"

"And this is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

"You better believe it, Your honor! Yes, it's the truth! If I told a lie 
Paul would kill me," Phillip said forcefully.

"He's lying, Your Honor. Let me put his mother on the stand," Skolnicki
begged. "She has to know what was going on."

"Your Honor, might I say something off the record," Seidman interjected.

The speakers went silent and we waited. I could imagine the scene in the 
judge's chambers. Skolnicki would be arguing that he had presented his case, 
Seidman for a directed verdict. My bets were on Seidman. Phillip had done 
his job, albeit with a few lies thrown in. He needed careful watching. I loved 
him so much that it hurt, yet like any ten-year-old boy he still needed 
discipline. 

The speakers stayed silent until the Judge and her four followers 
trooped back into the courtroom and resumed their places. The Judge looked 
at me sternly. I returned her gaze with unfaltering eyes. This was the 
moment of truth. However, I knew from her eyes that I would never take the 
stand. The case was over.

She looked away and surveyed the courtroom in silence. 

"In my role as judge, I have the power to issue a directed verdict under 
certain circumstances. Those circumstances exist in the case at hand. The 
State has not managed to prove it's case. In fact, the case presented has 
been so full of distortion and mismanagement that the Prosecutor's Office
should be ashamed of themselves. The testimony of the so-called victim 
of child abuse has been not only embarassing to the child, but I have been
imformed that he has been severely mistreated as well. I am appalled that
the Statues can be so grievously abused. There is clear evidence that the 
defendant has been harassed and I am presently considering whether the Court 
will impose sanctions on Mr. Skolnicki. I thank the jury for you time and 
effort. I apologize to Mr. Paul Young. Case number 41890, the State of 
Maryland versus Paul Young, is dismissed. Mr. Young, if you will come to my 
chambers in a few minutes I know a young boy who would very much like to 
give you a hug," she said simply. She rose and walked out of the room.   



END PART 3.