Date: Sat, 29 Nov 2008 21:44:58 +0100 From: jerryfell@hushmail.com Subject: boy-at-the-wedding-14 Henry barged into his son's bedroom. "Wakey wakey! Hands off cocks and on with socks!" He flung the curtains open and turned in time to see a bare arm pushing a crumpled tissue under the bed to hide it. "Once you're up, we've a tree to buy. Eight footer this year. Then footy this afternoon." "Belgium teams are crap." "Well we can have a good laugh at them then. Oh, and would you help mum prepare the guest bedroom? She's put the sheets on the bed." ----- Alexander had been too tired to ski the previous afternoon. Instead he had spent the late afternoon in the spa, swapping between the sauna and the steam room. Sweat had poured off him. His sinuses cleared by the eucalyptus gave him a shock when he stepped out of the hotel to find a place to eat. He had lived his life alone, but surrounded by youngsters in the restaurant he felt particularly solitary. He ordered the most expensive red on the wine list and relaxed into the evening until a family were seated at the table next to him. An eleven year old boy dressed in an expensive sweater and jeans slid into a seat that faced Alexander directly. Unfortunately the boy had sharp good looks and even a dusting of freckles. His face was sunburnt. From the accent Alexander guessed the family was Danish or Norwegian. He asked a puzzled waitress to be moved to another table. Before he slipped into bed, and with the lights off, he opened the curtains in his room. In the night the mountain stood, immoveable, immense. Clusters of tiny lights skirted the lake below. A boat seemed to be moving in the darkness. From his bed he could see the mountain clearly. Even when he closed his eyes he could see it. ---- Unlike the fashion-victims around him, as he liked to think of them, Alexander simply wore goggles, a wool sweater, gloves, salopettes and ski-boots. The boots had, admittedly, cost a small fortune, but the ostentatious simplicity of his attire was supposed to convey a blunt message that skiing should simply be about going fast, downhill. He was not an expert skier, but Alexander was good enough to risk the black runs and enjoy every moment of it. He kept one eye on the time, but struck out to explore the slopes. At the top of the highest run, a ski guide told him not to stray off piste. "The black runs below this one, it's Okay. But this one..." he wagged a finger back and fro. "Dangerous?" "Cliff. Lake." "I see. Okay, no problem. I will stick within the flags." "Good you enjoy." Then he was off on a steep downhill, slicing and curling his way around the mountain, finding edges and ploughing through new snow. ------- "How do you like Obersaxen?" "It is a rare find. Great snow, good restaurants. Quite a buzz to it in season. Did you grow up here Doctor?" "Oh no. My family is from Basle originally. But it seemed a good place for the clinic." "I agree. One of the reasons I selected this clinic is because it allows you to be part of the skiing crowd rather than seeming like a leper." "Quite so. Well shall we start?" Once they had settled again beside the fire the Doctor asked: "Any reflections overnight?" "To be honest, I found our session tiring. I didn't have the energy to continue wrestling with it, and also I think I need to explore this with you rather than on my own." "Because I am an expert?" "No, because you ask your irritating questions." "They irritate you?" "That was a joke. Okay. Well yes I suppose they do." "So you feel comfortable?" "No. Here you go again. No I don't feel comfortable. If I felt comfortable I would have stayed at home." "So what is irritating you?" "I'm a pedophile." "Is that irritating?" "I would say so. Wouldn't you?" "It depends. I have met many pedophiles who feel comfortable." "Then they have gone over to the dark side." "What does that mean?" "It's a reference to a film. To Star Wars." "I am familiar with the film. I was asking you what you mean when you think that pedophiles who are comfortable have gone over to the dark side." "Well. You can't be comfortable with it unless you blind yourself to the damage it does." "Let's talk about you. What damage have you done?" Alexander exhaled. "It doesn't take you long, does it, to have me up against the ropes!" "This conversation goes where you want it to." "Okay. What damage have I done?" Krauss was charging his pipe. Alexander continued "To Sebastian?" "Why do you want to start there?" "Because he was the start of it.... Okay he wasn't the start of it. To that first boy at school? To myself?" Krauss was silent. His pipe was proving difficult to light. "I'm lost." Krauss, finally had the pipe alight. "Alexander, yesterday you discovered that a nine year old helped you matter to yourself again. Your body had lost its meaning. He gave it meaning again." "I...." "And once he had shown you this secret, it was as if you had different eyes. Now other boys were this promise too. They became sexual objects to you. They substituted for something you had lost, your mother's love. Now ask yourself: why is this irritating?" Alexander sat forward. "Because it's a substitute." "For what?" "My mother's love?" "Really?" "Yes." "How old are you Alexander?" "50." "Do you still crave your mother's love?" "Yes. Well, actually.... No." "It tends not to be as important at 50 as it is at ten.... Is she still alive?" "No." "So even if you did crave it, she is not able to give it." "Agreed." "So we need to dig deeper. Let us go back to the reason you came here." "I came here because I am worried that I am a pedophile." "And what caused you to worry?" "A boy at a wedding. And two boys on a boat." "Contact with them." "Yes." "Why does that worry you?" "Because I am a man and they are boys." "Are you morally outraged by your actions?" "Yes." "Because society tells you that you should be?" "Yes. And because I know it is wrong." "But your brakes have failed." "Yes." "But the reason your brakes failed, finding a substitute for your mother's love, that reason has faded with age and the passing of your mother." "Yes. So why haven't my brakes got better?" "What do adults do to children?" "I'm sorry?" "In your experience. What do the adults that children care most about, what do they do to children?" Silence. Finally Alex offered: "They leave them. They hurt them profoundly." "You are an adult. What do you do to children that come to like you or love you?" "I am not a parent." "I repeat. You are an adult. What do you do to children that get close to you?" "I touch them. I hold them." "How do they respond?" "They are confused." "Why are they confused?" "Because they like being touched, but they know it is wrong." "What sort of children will let you touch them?" "Ones that need to be loved." "Like Sebastian?" "Yes, and Niels. And Richard." "You can spot them can't you?" "Yes." "Adults betray children don't they?" "Yes." "Is that what you do?" "I try to give them the love I didn't have." "By masturbating them?" "Yes." "Do children deserve to be punished?" "No." "What about you, when you were a child? Did you deserve it?" "No." "That's the adult you talking. Talk to me as a child. Did you deserve to be punished?" "I don't know!" Their voices were raised. "If children don't deserve to be punished why are you punishing them?" "I'm not, I don't know." Alex held his head in his hands. Suddenly, Alex's voice was cold and clear. "Okay. Yes." Then very bluntly: "I deserved to be punished, because I did a dirty thing." Krauss sat back. "A dirty thing.... So your mother had no reason to leave you, so you gave her one. You did a dirty thing." "Yes." "And you know that these boys will do that dirty thing. Because they are like you. Because just like you they deserve to be punished." "It feels like love." "Does it?" "Yes it does." "But you are not comfortable with it." "No." "It irritates you." "Yes." "Because as well as feeling like love it feels like you are punishing them for being like you." Alex was a mess. Where he had been running his fingers through his steel grey hair it stuck out in clumps. Krauss asked gently: "Did they ask you to stop?" Alex nodded. Krauss looked at his notes. "And Richard? Geek? What does this Geek mean?" "It's a term for a student who studies all the time and avoids social interaction." "I see. What about him?" ----- Geek was not asleep when Alexander slid into bed beside him in the cabin. He held his breath as the man settled down, hardly daring to breathe. He had tied his pajamas with a double knot that made them tight and uncomfortable around his slim waist. It was only a matter of minutes before Alexander started to snore lightly, but to Geek it had felt like hours. Trapped against the cabin wall he had not dared move all night. He could smell Alex. It was not an unpleasant smell, but it was the strong smell of an adult beside him in the bed, and the faint smell of wine. In the end, he too fell asleep. Geek woke with a start. His carefully tied pajama trousers were around his ankles. He was flat on his back. He had not woken when Alex had stripped him, nor when the man had started to fondle his hairless ball-sac. Even the gentle tugs on his cock had not woken him. It was when Alex had sucked his erection into his mouth that the tickle had brought him awake, writhing. Alex had looked up, saliva at the edge of his mouth, and said: "Good morning young Richard." With the boy awake Alex had untangled the pajama trousers from his ankles and dropped them on the floor. Returning to suck his straining young cock, it was only then that Geek realised Alex was naked. He could clearly see the thick sausage in its dark nest over swollen tight balls. Now that he was awake, Alex was running his hands all over the small lad. His sucking soon had him writhing and jerking on the bed. The more her twisted and wriggled the more Alexander took it as a sign to do more and push the boy further. Despite himself, with the incessant sucking and flickering tongue, Geek felt close to cumming. His toes clenched and bare back arched. But before he reached ejaculation, Alex had spun him round on the bed, losing any control he might have had. With hands on his blushing cheeks he guided the boy's mouth towards his own engorged cock. At first he turned his head away. But then a thick finger had wriggled inside his anus and he panicked, bucking. Better to suck the man off than to let it go in that direction. So he tried not to breathe as he opened up and took the thick slug down his throat. His jaw ached as Alex ground into him. But the finger did not leave its probing and suddenly the fat penis slid out of his mouth and he was spun around on the bed once more pressed against the cabin wall. --- "Did he ask you to stop?" "Yes." "Did you?" --- "Stop it!" "Shhhhh." "Please!" Alex's cock head was pressed against the lubricated hole. He hesitated. "Please...." Geek's spectacles were hanging from the curtain rail over head. His hand was on the boy's stiff penis, teasing it. "You'll like it." "I won't." "You are so horny!" "That's because you are doing crazy stuff to me." He pressed. "Gerroff!" squealed Geek. Geek's mouth opened in a silent "O". Once the wriggling silent boy was fully impaled, he began a very gentle fucking. One of his hands was over the boy's chest and he could feel the fluttering heartbeat. A motor cruiser chugged past, the wash rocked the cabin and Geek grunted through clenched teeth. The other boys were moving about. They could hear teeth being cleaned in the shower room separated from the cabin by a flimsy wall. He continued to work in and out of the lad's tight hole. It was Seb. "Are you awake yet Alex?" "I'll be up in a minute. Put the kettle on." He pulled the sheets over them as a precaution. "I love you Richard." He whispered as he continued to masturbate the boy and penetrate him. "Where's the fishing rods?" It was Niels. "In the locker under the steering wheel. I'll be out in a minute." The kettle's whistle started to whine and then scream. Alex called out: "Can one of you get that?" Doing it gently was taking too much time. He rolled them both over so that Geek was face down. He splayed out his legs and set to it, slapping into the boy's red bottom. He felt the little boy tense every muscle in his lithe body. He thrust deep into him and held it. Geek's watery cum flooded out into a broad stain on the bottom sheet. Alex grunted and shook with waves of orgasm deep inside the boy. He pulled out and turned Geek over so he was resting against his side. He patted the boy's sweaty cheek. "You did really well." ---- "Did doing that feel like making love?" Alexander was silent. "This is another thing you know then, to add to your list: There is no cure. An expert cannot save you. You cannot love those you want to punish." "Is there any hope?" "Who are you asking?" "Me. I am asking myself." "What answer are you giving?" "I have to control this. It is not love." "And how will you do that?" "I don't know." "You have already started." "How so?" "Last night you asked to be moved, did you not? Well what is that if not protecting yourself?" "I can hardly avoid every boy." "No, but it is one weapon in your arsenal. What's another?" "I don't know." "What makes it worse?" "Pornography." "Why?" "Because it makes me imagine...." "Correct. Imagination is incredibly powerful. It can steer you one way, and it can steer you another. Do you ever feed your imagination with pornography that could guide it a different way?" "No I don't." "Well, you should try it out. There's lots of crazy stuff out there for you to explore!" He smiled. "Are there chemicals? Shock treatment?" "Do you want to punish yourself now? Haven't you had enough of punishing and being the punisher? If you really want to scratch this itch, you have to do so gently. You have to be kind to yourself." Alexander was exhausted. "This time you'll be glad to know: time's up!" "Doctor, can I ask you something?" "Fire away, but let's head towards reception." "How do you cope with listening to this day after day?" "Well, I could tell you, but then you would start charging me for your time. So goodnight Alexander. Enjoy the bars tonight and the spiced hot wine." We will see you for our final session tomorrow. ---- He found a bar at close to his hotel and sat at a copper table with mulled wine observing the night turn increasingly raucous. The bar packed with skiers and soon a group of youngsters had invaded his table and he found himself in conversation with a girl of eighteen, an American from Kansas spending a year learning a foreign language in `Europe'. She was drunk and her friends were careless. He was on the verge of inviting her back to his room when he thought better of it, made his excuses and left. ---- The following morning the sunlight woke him up. A bright blue sky hung over the mountain. He had promised himself to check his Blackberry just once a day before breakfast. The handset came to life and flashed at him. A new voicemail and a new email in his personal pop account drew his attention. He skimmed work emails, opening just one to check the content. "You have ONE voicemail..." He punched a button. "Hello Alexander, it's Mary. Hope your skiing is going well and that all your bones are in one piece. Henry and I are looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night. So great that you can spare the time and I know that Seb is itching to see you. He talks of nothing else. Anyway, everything is prepared here. The Christmas tree is up, so hurry up and get here. Ok that's it for now. Call if you need to." The personal email was from Seb. It was an animated gif of a cartoon cock being wanked and spurting cum. It looped every second. Alexander sat on the edge of his hotel bed and stared at the animation. His limbs felt heavy as he struggled into the salopettes. His ankles were sore as he clipped the boots tight and tottered down the hotel stairs to retrieve his skis. He joined the cheerful crowd that queued for the ski lift and then sat in the cold gondola as it swayed its way up the steep cliffs. He stayed on as others left to enjoy the lower slopes, all the way to the top. He planted his poles in the snow as he settled himself down, sliding on his skis as he prepared for the downhill. He waved a gloved hand at the ski guide from the day before. He set off on a traverse, then cut a zig zag out of sight of the cable-car. He ignored the warning flags and found a gap in the plastic netting that allowed him to go off piste. Through sparkling snow he cut and weaved as a euphoria overtook him. He was ten again in the grip of a nine year old, flushed with the danger of getting caught as he ploughed through sheets of virgin snow. He was in love again with adolescent boys that came and went throughout his schooldays like the pines that he dodged and weaved in his reckless slalom. Out of the tree-line at increasing velocity he was on the boat looking into the face of Niels. As he lost control he was deep inside Richard again in the rocking wash. And suddenly an icy lip acting like a ski-jump propelled him skywards, tracing an arc off the edge of the cliff. His poles spun away. His skis flipped off to tumble behind him. He was left free-falling towards the frozen lake far below. As the air filled his lungs he found himself once more in church, the smell of beeswax in his nostrils, surrounded by the wedding guests. A hymn rising in the wind that tore past his tumbling body: `And so the yearning strong, with which the soul will long, shall far out-pass the power of human telling; for none can guess its grace, till Love create a place wherein the Holy Spirit makes a dwelling.' The green ice of the lake rushing to meet him was exactly the same shade of green as the glittering eyes of Sebastian as he had shaken him by his limp hand. A passage of the bible flashed through his mind in the final two hundred meters of his fall: Into thy hands, into thy limp hands, I commit my spirit.