Date: Fri, 8 Sep 2006 15:17:23 -0700 (PDT)
From: adm2780 <adm2780@yahoo.com>
Subject: Brads Idol 10

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any
means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author.
As in real life, the sexual themes unfold gradually and are kept to a
realistic level.  Comments on the story are appreciated and may be
addressed to the author at adm2780@yahoo.com

This story contains descriptions of consensual sexual contact between
males, adult and minor.  As such it is homoerotic, designed for the
entertainment of mature adults.  If you are not of legal age to read such
material, or if the subject matter would create irresolvable personal moral
dilemmas, please exit now.


Chapter Ten: Brad's Idol



Uncle Ray convinced Dad that all the yelling, fussing, and magic worked
with the belt was not going to solve the problems until some basic
questions were answered.  The main issue was whether I wouldn't do the
work, or whether I couldn't do the work.  If it was the first, then Uncle
Ray agreed maybe some butt warming was warranted.  If it was the second,
then they needed to know why.  The next question became what had the school
done to determine what the problem was and corrective measures?  The answer
to most of the evaluation and corrective measure questions was nothing.
This then lead to an assumption that I both couldn't and wouldn't do the
work because of frustration.

You would think that a county with one of the state's major universities
would have a good school system.  After all, look at the resources the
county had to draw from.  Well, this county happened to have one of the
lowest rated school systems in the state.  Simply stated, the system did
not have the ability to evaluate and correct the problem.  The system did
have the standardized tests which I was given to measure intelligence and
educational level; of course the tests were written requiring a particular
level of reading skills.  The tests were given towards the end of the first
semester and results would not be available until after the holidays.

Now, understand that new rules were put in place for being able to visit
Uncle Ray while all this was going on.  I didn't particularly care for the
rules, but no one asked me about them, they told me.  The rule was fairly
simple, each Friday I had to get a note from the teacher that I had
completed and turned in my work assignments for that week.  The work didn't
have to be perfect, but it did have to be complete.  Sometimes I made it
and sometimes I didn't.

There was one span of about seven weeks I didn't get to go.  The normal
routine was every two weeks.  Missing one trip I could handle if I was the
one that messed up, but two trips in a row was different.  Two weeks later
the teacher said I hadn't turned everything in and I thought I had, but
again my thoughts didn't count.  This was totally unfair and a real bummer.
To make matters even worse, weekends the note wasn't good, I was also
grounded to the house.  I was not a happy person at this point, but perked
up when dad said Uncle Ray was coming down.  This was particularly good
since I knew dad would always waive grounding if Uncle Ray wanted me to do
something.

Uncle Ray was due in Saturday morning and I was really looking forward to
him getting here.  He surprised us, or at least me, and showed up Friday
night.  Dad already had plans for Friday night so it was just me and Uncle
Ray; I was really going to enjoy this. (I later wondered if Dad and Uncle
Ray connived this to give me some what of a break.)  My plan was to get an
early bath and climb into his lap and let him play with me all he wanted.
I couldn't wait to feel the raspberries, his thumbs working over my nips,
him tickling me down the sides; or, maybe, he would give me one of those
fantastic powder massages.  Well, part of this worked out and part didn't.

Uncle Ray knew Dad had plans and that he and I would be left alone at the
apartment.  That meant he was thinking like me.  The apartment only had a
shower, and not a large one at that.  Uncle Ray decided to get a shower
before settling in and said I could follow.  Well, saying I could follow
can be interpreted in different ways.  I could follow with my bath or
shower after him, or I could follow him into the shower.  I didn't ask
which he meant and did my own interpretation.  Right after he got in, I
joined him.  Initially, he looked at me with a bit of surprise.  I'm not
sure why since it wasn't unusual for me to do this at his house.

"Is someone looking for some attention?"  I just nodded a little and then
stepped over to him and put my arms around him.

"Uncle Ray, are you still mad at me?"

"Brad, I'm not mad at you; I am concerned for you.  You have to get an
education to make in this world, son.  I know you're not totally to blame
for this mess, but you are partially to blame.  I want you to learn that
when things happen, even those things we can not completely control, we
have to work through them.  You can't just take the short cuts -- in the
long run you will suffer.  That's a bit heavy for you right now, but you'll
understand better later on.  Right now you have to trust your dad and me to
do what we think is best for you; neither of us would ever deliberately do
anything to hurt you.  Understand?"

"Not really, but yeah for some of it.  I know you wouldn't hurt me.  It's
just that...well...it sure is taking a long time and I miss coming to see
you."

"I think what you miss is being able to run around naked and get me to give
you some special attention."  I just looked up at him and grinned.  He
soaped his hands up good and bathed me; it always felt funny when he would
run his fingers through my crack when bathing me.  Then I got him to get on
his knees and I did the same for him.  I ran my fingers through his crack
while bathing him and almost lost my whole hand in there.

When we were dry he sat on the sofa in his normal position.  This time
though he put a couple of pillows in his lap for me to lie on.  This was
great, this was the powder massage position.  I just lay there planning to
watch whatever was on television while he made me feel good.  When he
reached over to the table, he didn't get the powder I was anticipating, he
picked up my history book.  Now, this is not what I was thinking about.  He
put the book on my back like he was laying it on a table.

"Uncle Ray, this is not what you're supposed to be doing."

"Well, it may not be what you think I should be doing, but it is what I
planned on doing.  I knew your dad would be out tonight and most likely out
late, I told him there were a couple of things I wanted to test you on and
needed for you and I to be alone.  Your dad left me the history book over
here with a note on what chapters you missed reading; that's where we will
start.  You just lay there and watch the show while I read this to you."

He read at a nice steady pace, it wasn't too fast but not too slow.  I
listened while watching the television.  The chapter only had about
twenty-five pages in it including some pictures, so it wasn't overly long.
When he finished I wondered what came next.  He laid the book on my back
and started shuffling through some pages.  He also had sticky notes that he
was writing something on.  Anytime I would get restless while he did this
he just reached down and either patted or squeezed my little butt and told
me to be patient, he was almost through.  When he finished he closed the
book and set it on the table and he turned off the lamp.  That's when I
knew he was finally starting to think like me.

The soft powder felt good as it landed on my back.  I lay where he had
positioned me and let his fingers work their magic.  It felt great, his
fingers running across my shoulders and then down my sides, across my back
and up the other side, then he would reverse the pattern.  Each swipe of
his fingers moved ever so slowly to the center so he was tracking up and
down the backbone.  Then he reversed the whole process by ever so slowly
widening the pattern to reach my sides again.  When he reached the base of
my neck on the last pass he then used the tip of his thumb to outline the
shoulder blades.

It felt like he used two knuckles to track back down each side of the back
bone to the top of my butt.  His fingernail then outlined the top of each
cheek before following a concentric circle to the middle.  After each cheek
was treated this way he reversed the pattern.  This process was repeated
three or four times.  Sometime while doing this, he had used the remote to
turn the television off.  All you could here was our breathing and him
shaking the bottle of powder occasionally.

The last two passes over my cheeks were all the way around with his
fingernail.  He traced the outline, jumping the well formed by my thighs,
cheeks and crack.  On the second pass I spread my legs as far apart as I
could on the sofa to give him complete access to the sensitive areas.  I
could feel his nails gently traveling down the back of my legs and up
inside the thigh.  Each time he did this I arched my back and got
goosebumps all over, this was absolute heaven.  He had to make four or five
trips over each leg to completely cover the back of the thigh.  When he
made the last trip over each leg, pulling his fingers up inside the thigh,
he stopped and gently massaged the perineum.

I lay there squirming and whimpering just as I had back in the summer when
he first did this to me.  Oh how I wanted for him to do it again just like
this.  He did do it two or three more times including the treat in
Cherokee, but there was something special about lying in his lap on the
sofa, in the dark and quiet.  I again had reached the stage of a whimpering
puppy as he rolled me over. I gradually opened my eyes to peer up at him
and then touched his chin with my finger.  He looked at me with that
special glean in his eyes and smiled.  He worked the front of me just as he
had before and I squirmed just as I had done before.

When he stopped I again opened my eyes to look up to him.  We exchanged
smiles and I wrapped my arms around his neck and chest.  Cradling me in his
arms he put me in bed.  As he lay behind me I could feel the soft hair on
his chest against my back.  Laying my head on his outstretched arm I took
the hand lying over my stomach and pulled it up to my chest.  I held onto
his hand as I slipped into sweet dreams.  School may be my hell, but I knew
where to find heaven.



On Saturday, Uncle Ray and Dad went to the ball game without me.  This was
a first, but they said since I was grounded I had to stay by myself until
things worked out.  I was miserable.  Of course, I didn't think about the
fact they could be miserable, too.  Later I found out Dad and Uncle Ray had
worked these little excursions out just to make a point with me.  Uncle Ray
convinced Dad this was a much better way to make me suffer and remember
what I didn't want to happen, than using a belt on my butt.  He was right,
I hated it!

When they got back from the ball game both of them opened a beer and sat
down in the living room.  Dad reached over and picked up the history book
Uncle Ray read from the previous night.  Dad didn't read, he started asking
questions.  I realized the questions were related to the chapter Uncle Ray
had read.  I didn't have any trouble answering the questions; after all,
Uncle Ray had just read the material to me.  I knew Dad didn't ask me all
the questions, he only asked three of four.  After that he looked at Uncle
Ray who just smiled.  "Almost verbatim", is all Dad said.

Shortly after returning from the holidays the semester ended and Dad
received a call from the school regarding the tests.  A face to face
meeting was arranged.  The school said only Dad should be there, but he
insisted on Uncle Ray attending.  Well, to say the meeting didn't go well
would be a major understatement.  The school determined I was a slow
learner with a border line IQ and would be placed in special education
classes.  I was sitting in the waiting area and could hear Dad very clearly
-- he was not a happy person, neither was Uncle Ray but he wasn't as vocal
as Dad.  The bottom line was Dad said there was no way he would allow them
to put me in special education and blamed them for a lot of this problem.
They were the educational system and should have realized I had a major
reading problem long before now and taken corrective actions.  When they
came out of the meeting I knew to stay quiet and just follow.

Part of my salvation had been the chapter of history Uncle Ray read me and
the way I answered the questions for Dad.  Dad and Uncle Ray said something
about having no faith in the school system and knowing they would have to
go outside to get the needed help.  Uncle Ray wanted me tested by one of
the national companies that specialized in correcting learning problems.
Dad acted a little hesitant until Uncle Ray told him he realized it would
cost money and would took care of it.  He wasn't so much concerned with the
cost as he was correcting the problem before it became worse and had an
adverse effect on my future.

After completing the preliminary paper work and sending a transcript of my
records to the testing center, I was at Uncle Ray's two weeks later taking
more tests.  This time, the tests were written and oral.  The tests were
spread out over two days and except for the reading, I didn't think they
were that bad.  The results were to be ready in ten days so an appointment
was set for the three of us to be there.

One thing about these tests is I was back with Uncle Ray.  The tests were
given on a Friday and Saturday, this meant I was with Uncle Ray Thursday
night.  I didn't waste any time letting him know I preferred to stay home
-- just the two of us.  He understood and just smiled.  When we got home
that night I was stripping before we hit the front door.  I dropped my bag
in the bedroom and headed for the bath to fill the tub with warm water.
When he asked if he should get a bath and leave plenty for me for a bubble
bath, I let him know we should jump in together.

Uncle Ray did bathe me and then he got out telling me to stay there a few
minutes.  My anticipation increased with each minute until he came to get
me.  He carried me into the living room where he had a fire in the
fireplace, the lights were out, and he wrapped me in a warm towel.  I had
been here before and couldn't wait.  It was more wonderful than any
previous time.  Why?  I'm not sure.  Maybe because it had been so long,
maybe because I wanted it so much, or maybe because he always knew a little
different trick so it was never the same as before.

I think the real reason it was so wonderful now was because it was Uncle
Ray I was with.  This was the first school year in my young life that I
hadn't had to endure several ass beatings because of notes from school.
Before, everyone knew I wasn't dumb and just assumed I wouldn't do the
work.  The school system never assessed the problem or took any corrective
actions.  The difference this year was Uncle Ray; he was my real salvation.
He didn't assume anything other than I had the intelligence to deal with
school.  He asked if I 'wouldn't' or couldn't', from there he went looking
for answers and solutions.  Is it any wonder I felt secure and safe with
this man?  He cared about me and I knew it.

He turned me into a whimpering puppy as usual, this time telling me how I
was his boy and how much he loved me.  I really relished these times and
never wanted them to end.  When he had turned me over on my back and
finished with my front I took his hand and placed it over my groin,
squeezing his hand with mine.  He knew what I wanted and gently massaged me
there for a few minutes.  While he massaged me I used my finger to lightly
outline his nipple and gave it a slight pinch.  When he jumped I let go and
wrapped my arms around his neck.  He carried me to bed.

The tests results showed I did well in all areas except those requiring
extensive reading.  Part of these areas were repeated in the oral exams
where I did well.  The conclusion was I had a reading problem.  Now, this
was not earth shattering news for Dad and Uncle Ray; their question was
what could be done about it?  They explained that the root of the problem
was I saw things through only one eye at a time.  I needed to learn how to
control which eye was being used. When reading a person uses peripheral
vision to see where to pick up on the next line.  The peripheral vision
went with the eye I wasn't using.  Yes, the problem could be corrected.

A special program was arranged for me to attend training sessions on
Thursday, Friday and Saturday for two consecutive weekends.  The center
felt I could learn enough during that time to make a substantial difference
in my ability to function in the classroom.  I failed history and English
the first semester and was not doing well in the second semester.  The
center would contact the school and set up a program for me to make up
these courses in the summer.  This would also give them the opportunity to
evaluate how well I was doing.  With a little work and luck I wouldn't have
to repeat the grade and should have no trouble moving forward in school.

The training sessions ran into the last week before spring break.  Unknown
to me, Dad and Uncle Ray made an agreement that if the school said I was
doing well and applying myself, I could stay with Uncle Ray that week.
Part of that reward was being able to attend an antique auto auction with
him in Atlanta.  This is where Reginald became a part of the family.

The auction was traditionally times with the Azalea Festival and was held
at one of the resorts.  What was particularly interesting about this trip
is Uncle Ray only bought one- way flights; either he bought something or it
was a long walk home.  We arrived on Friday night and had our normal
relaxing time that night.  The first day of the auction was on Saturday.
He spotted a vehicle he wanted right off the bat.  Many cars passed the
auction block during that first day, but he waited.  The auctioneer, who
knew Uncle Ray from many previous dealings, advised us the car would come
up around 5:30 to 6:00; we waited.  Uncle Ray had found out the seller had
several vehicles in the sale.  It appears his wife had given somewhat of an
ultimatum of they go or she goes; the cars were going.  What kind of car
was it he thought so special?  It was a 1932 Rolls Royce 20/25 Hooper Town
Car.

The car hit the auction block just before six.  The key here is that most
collectors had left for dinner and this type of car is not a big dealer
favorite due to the limited market.  When the auctioneer asked for bids, no
one responded.  Uncle Ray sat back and watched; the longer they went with
no response, the bigger the smile on his face.  Another key factor here was
the seller had been drinking all day.

Uncle Ray opened with a bid less than half what the auctioneer had asked
for; the auctioneer didn't look happy.  He did this three times, each time
the seller was getting more agitated.  Finally, Uncle Ray asked the
auctioneer to ask the seller what the minimum acceptable bid would be.
When the seller responded Uncle Ray turned around with what might be called
a shit eatin' grin.  He bid the price plus one dollar and the car was his.
The car was paid for and loaded on a transport before we headed for supper.
At supper we named the car Reginald.  The next morning, the seller showed
up to spoil our very upbeat weekend.

BAM!! BAM!! BAM!!  This was not someone doing a gentle knock on the door.
It sounded like someone was pounding the door with the side of their fist.
Uncle Ray looked at the clock, not quite seven in the morning, and then got
up, put on a robe, and answered the door.  I sat up with the covers wrapped
around me to see what was going on.

"I want my car back.  You took advantage.."

"Excuse me, and you are....?"

"The Rolls, it's my car and I want it back!"

"I recognize you ....  Doctor.  Now I'm going to tell you what I want, and
that's for you to leave.  You come banging on my door before seven in the
morning, frightening my kid.  I'll talk with you about the car at the
auction company's office later this morning."

"We don't need to talk later, you took advantage of me and I want my car
back."

"As I said, I'll talk with you at the auction company's office later this
morning, we can meet there at ten.  Now, I'm asking you to leave."

The man didn't look happy as Uncle Ray stood there holding the door open
for the man to leave.  Finally, he did leave.  Uncle Ray took off the robe
and slipped back in bed with me.  I wrapped myself around him and lay my
head on his chest.

"Uncle Ray, can that man take Reginald?"

"No, Brad, not as long as all the paper work was properly signed.  There's
something I want you to learn from this though.  Notice how he banged on
the door and then became very aggressive?"

"Yeah...."

"Well, some people think that's how you should do business. They try to
intimidate you to get you to do whatever it is they want.  In this case it
was to get me to agree to let him have Reginald back.  Think about it, I
never said yes and I never said no.  The trick is to take the wind out of
his sails.  I made him wait til the auction company's office opens, this
gives him time to settle down and will take the bite out of his bark."

"Uncle Ray, are you going to let him have the car?"

"Only when the devil wears snow shoes.  If he had approached me as a
professional person, which he is supposed to be, and explained he had been
drinking too much and was not fully aware of what he was doing, I might
consider it.  To approach me like a jackass, which is what he did, there's
no way I'll give it up unless there was a problem with the paperwork.  When
the office opens I'll verify everything was done correctly and then tell
the good Doctor no.  Understand?"

"Yeah.  If he acts like a proper business man, talk.  If he acts like a
jackass, don't talk."

"That's a simple way of saying it, yes."

"Uncle Ray, it's still early, but he got me wide awake.  Let's play some
before we get up, okay?"


Reginald stayed with the family for many years until it was involved in an
accident.  The car flipped off a trailer while being towed to a show.
Pre-WWII coaches were aluminum over wood frames; the frame shattered.  The
car couldn't be rebuilt because the plans were destroyed when the plant was
bombed out during WWII.

What else did the training sessions mean?  I would be with Uncle Ray this
summer.  I would have to go to school, but I would be with him.  Also, this
summer would see my introduction into the field that would one day become
my vocation.


End Chapter Ten

To Be continued: comments welcome; contact Dwight Wilson at
adm2780@yahoo.com.