Date: Sat, 12 May 2001 15:07:17 -0700 (PDT)
From: Zane Green <ZaneG7@excite.com>
Subject: FIRES-4

Copyright Notice: the author copyrights this story and the author retains
all rights. Expressly prohibited is placing this story at a for pay site. It
is a fantasy, and is not about anyone real. It has minor characters, and is
intended only for a mature audience. None of the characters are based on
real people. They all grew up in my imagination. Comments are very welcome
and appreciated at ZaneG7@excite.com Flames will go up in smoke. I want to
thank T for inspiring the good stuff I write.


Fires  by:Zane Hunter-Green Part 4

You really have never been to the ocean I asked Noh, as he helped me put my
boogie board in the SUD.

"No."

This kid lived in LA or just outside of it his short life, and had never
been to the ocean. I would have to buy him clothes as well. You would think
there would be tons of people on the streets trying to rescue kids like
Noah, but they were dirty, perverse creatures to many, or souls to be saved
and changed. So many of them, like Noh already were sexual creatures, and
they were taught that was another part of them that was twisted and wrong. I
was fighting him, but I had been sexually active at his age. Only when I was
older did the guilt set in. Now I was celibate, displacing my drive into the
nature's demons of sex, a fire out of control. I had been so lucky that a
man appeared in my life to love me, and keep me from the world where I had
been sailing towards destruction.

We packed up the car, and drove out of Sacramento much later than I had
planned but I had never anticipated having a boy with me.

I put a CD on, and he was very quiet, it gave me time to think and reminisce
about myself. I had not thought about Hank in along time. The boy beside me,
his fine blond hair blowing in the breeze created by the open window was
forcing me to remember things I shelved, therefore allowing me to live as a
complete person. I have since learned that we all have out personal demons,
the difference is the power you allow them to take.

It was the late 70s and my Mom had moved us again. I don't remember too much
except for the beat up farmhouse, the fields of crops where they thought
marijuana could be camouflaged. And the other kids, kind of everyone's kids.
People came and went until the crowd got rougher and the drugs got harder.
It was like the sour edge of a different time, or so I heard from a few whom
talked about the ways ten years before.

The night my Mother O-Ded I was playing out in the derelict barn when some
guys came in that I didn't know. I remember they had long hair and beards as
well as a hardened look that I didn't like, I remember them looking at my
friends and me like we were livestock. China with her long golden hair was
about to jump from the dusty hayloft. I had promised to catch her. At first
I was worried about what they might do to her, I motioned for her to stay
hidden in the loft. One of the men called my name. I ignored him until he
got more persistent, commanding me to stop playing and walk over. I was ten
years old and one of the older kids.

"Your Mom left for the city this morning." He had told me.

I believed him.

"She wants us to bring you to her. Come on. We're leaving now."

I innocently followed them to a beat up van, I got in not realizing that my
Mother had died, and I was being taken to a life that no child should have
to face.

The men in the Van were just transporting me. I wasn't surprised that the
back had old mattresses on the floor. It smelled like someone had lit up a
joint not long before. I was told to sit in the back. One of them got out
and brought back a small bundle of my things, I overheard him tell someone
that he was my Uncle, and was taking me to my Grandparents. I had never seen
them before, but I was guessing that it had arranged for my Mother to meet
me there.

I sat on the floor watching three men get in. they closed the side door and
soon the old van was taken down the bumpy dirt road that led away from the
farmhouse. I sat quietly in my own world, happy to be leaving in some ways
but all ready missing my friends. Then one of the men moved closer to me and
pulled my tee shirt over my head, and pulled off my shorts, and underpants.
I remember looking at him puzzled. I had run around nude before, and had
seen adults copulating, making love, sometimes switching partners and making
love again. I had even seen my Mother once with another woman, but no one
had ever done anything to me.


I was barely a Virgin when I got out of the Van. At the time I didn't know
that there was anything about me that would appeal to men. I had very long
curly black locks of hair, and my blue eyes were too large for my face.
Since then the prettiness that would describe me as a child has made me
still attractive to my own sex, but then it was a handicap. I had very long
lashes, large blue eyes, and a slender body that would learn the imprint
that Noah carried. For two years my ass stayed bruised and opened by a
stream of strangers. They picked me; I had no choice but to be presented to
a paying customer, naked and helpless. I had my penis red from friction, my
lips swollen from the pressure of orally serving grown cocks, and my ass was
bruised and enlarged. I often had runs, and sometimes embarrassing
accidents. It was a hell of an existence. Part of me knew that Noh had faced
the same life to some degree.

I reached over and gave him a supportive squeeze on the arm.

He smiled up at me.

"In the next town there's a Wall King, we're going in to find you some
clothes. They have a diner inside the store. Us men have to eat."

He nodded in agreement.

I went back to the dark memories I forced myself to do it so I could
remember where this boy was coming from.

In the van with the others watching he started to play with my privates. I
liked the feelings that he was creating but I was embarrassed to be
displayed in front of the others. I remembering him placing me over his lap
on my stomach, I was too afraid now to yell out. Another man came over and
took my cheeks, spread them apart and speared a finger into my butt. This
time I yelped. It was just the beginning however. On that brutally long ride
I was left raw from how many fingers went into my ass, my mouth. The only
thing left for me to experience was cock, but that would happen soon.

It is amazing to me that I escaped getting a terrible disease, during those
years. With what I know now I must have had a guardian angel watching out
for me. I know that I was in the LA area, but my existence was limited to
the house where I lived with several other boy whores and the few excursions
to private parties where I was part of the entertainment for the night.

"I'm hungry Shane."

"We'll be at the store soon babe, less than a half of an hour. I reached in
my pocket and pulled out a piece of gum, handing it to him. "Here you go
Noh."

"Thanks Shane but why do you call me Noh, instead of Noah?"

"Should I call you No Noah?"

"Yeah, you keep telling me no."

"Well I have my reasons."

"Someday you'll say yes to me."

"Oh no I won't"

"Hummm," he went back to staring at the road. I went back to remembering.

There was one night, which had especially reeked. I was at some party for
some old guy who made a living doing extra work in films. He and his friends
had been drinking a lot of beer before I arrived. They got this crazy idea
that I could be a receptacle. They spoke of stuffing a beer bottle up my ass
and turning me upside down so I would be a human coaster or something
equally horrid. I started to shake. I had never felt closer to a piece of
human garbage. All of the sudden I heard a deep voice-"look glass is
dangerous, let me take him and clean him out, I'll give him a beer enema.
Then we can drink on the tap." The others started to laugh; they were too
drunk to see the impossibility of what was being posed. "Come on," and I was
led out of the cottage to a motorbike and driven across the city.

That was how I meet Hank. He loved boys. He was a stuntman who had lost a
leg in a roll over on a set several years before. He had had little work,
but he made up his own rules. With his artificial leg you didn't even know
that he was an amputee. He barely scraped by as the film where he had been
injured was an independent, and had no insurance. It was never sold, so he
had no recourse but to eke out a living, in the field that he loved. He went
on to become an expert in stunts involving burns and fires. I even helped
him a few times on various sets when I was older. That was how I learned to
love and respect fires, until another accident took him from me. I wasn't
with him that day. There had been a down wind, and miscalculations. I heard
about it second hand from one of the grips. After his funeral I went down
and signed up to be a firefighter. My fake birth certificate listed me as
eighteen. I lied about my education, and my background. They were impressed
by my knowledge of fire, so I was hired to be a fireman, trainee.

That night I wrote down all of my memories and took Hank's few awards for
his work. I had inherited his motorcycle so on it I drove to Venice Beach
where I lit an enormous bon fire at the beach and I burned them all, my
memories and his. The fire hissed in the cool night, and the salt air hid my
tears.

I moved out of his apartment the next morning, and I never looked back
until the boy beside me walked out of his own fire into my life.