Date: Tue, 26 Feb 2008 18:02:02 -0500
From: A. Cheshire Cat <kierkegaard_is_cool@hotmail.com>
Subject: Hungry For It 2: The Kid

The Kid - from the "Hungry For It" series
February 25/26, 2008
A. Cheshire Catt
kierkegaard_is_cool@hotmail.com

We were watching some flick when it happened. Something stupid on the
television. I had been good for a long time, but it was bound to happen.
When it did the poor little guy didn't know what to think. I'd told him
what to do when it did but since he'd never had to deal with it, or
hadn't seen it yet, he became scared, naturally, as it is a scary thing
to witness.

We were layin on the couch. It was in the fall by this time, the windows
were closed and the heat was on and he had pulled a blanket over top of
our naked bodies: we were so comfortable with each other, me and my
little buddy.

He was still 12. I mean, so young. He didn't go to school or anything,
which I didn't agree with, but what was I supposed to do, adopt him? Me,
a former criminal? I don't think so. I could tell he wasn't as smart as
most kids were, but at least he wasn't on the street anymore. He just
never left after that day we found each other on the street. Every so
often he would go out and come back with a couple hundred cash. I didn't
really think to ask him, I mean, I thought about it, but I didn't want to
know what he was doin, where he was gettin it. I just took it when he
gave it to me, always neatly packed into an unsealed envelope, and used
it for the food to feed us both. He was always cleanin up after me, which
I would tell him we could do together but he was a real show-off when it
came to bein nice to me. I would tap him on his head and I would kiss his
cheek, and then molest him, uncontrollably, he was so hot, so sexual ...
I wanted to eat him up. He changed everything for me. No longer was I
sitting in a house waiting for time to creep up and knock me dead. I
was savoring for it, time, rolling it around in my mouth afraid to
swallow case I never tasted it again. Now that this kid was with me all
the time it was like I enjoyed comin home from the store to find him on
the bed with his arse up in the air askin me to stretch it for him,
that he wanted my cock up in 'im ... I mean, I loved the devotion.

I was tired of him a couple times. I mean, after about a month or so I
started to question his motives. I asked him if he had parents and he
wouldn't tell me. I asked him if he'd ever stayed with anyone else and he
would tell me stories about vague "gentlemen" in his past who would allow
him to stay a couple days till the wife got back, or one straight couple
that allowed him to stay but only on the condition that he joined their
church. I could tell he wasn't educated, like I've said, but the boy was
smart, what they call street smart. I asked him how long he'd been on the
street and he told me that he started hanging out with people on the
street when he was as young as nine. Nine! I knew eventually I would
ask about his parents, but I sensed a certain reluctance to it and I
didn't want him running away again to someone who'd treat him worse so I
just told him that he would have to tell me someday, when he was
ready, and that when he told me I wouldn't care or judge ... but someday
would have to be sooner rather than later. I was tired of him when I
would wake up in the morning to him listening to music loud in the other
room and I would come out rubbing my head and he would start talking too
fast and too loud and all about something that I don't even care about.
Or when I'd come out to find all the food eaten in some growth-spurt
binge of his and there'd be nothing to eat for me.

He'd laugh. He'd always just laugh lightly and know that I wasn't really
all that angry with him, but I would lay him across my lap like my
parents used to do and I would spank him so hard, trying to inflict some
sort of punishment or judgement on him but he'd just end up getting hard
and I would feel his pecker between my legs and I would ask him, "Am I
not spankin hard enough for ya, you still like it?" SPANK "Fuckin brat,
I'll spank you till you can't sit." SPANK "Stop squirmin boy, get up here
proper!" SPANK. Then I would pull off my belt and he would definitely get
uncomfortable. I would make him lie on the bed while wollup after
stinging loud wollup I lashed his little thighs and calves with my broad
brown leather belt. It would make him whimper and I loved the control of
it. I liked giving him beatings because he would sit up and wipe away the
tears and his bottom lip would be stickin out and he would ask me for
more. I would lay him again on my lap and tell him that I was doin it
more for his sake than mine, and I would sure spank and leave my hand
there and watch the white imprint of my hand when I raised it. I would
rub it and know that tingled. He would still hold his little butt up and
I would give in to the temptation of fingerin the hole and, lickin on my
finger, makin him wriggle and he would say, "Ow!" and I'd push another
finger in his tight little arse and he would scurry up and I would hold
him down and I would say, "That's what you get."

"Yessir."

"Now go to bed."

"Yessir."

One time I hit him though. I think that's what happened to make it all
seem a little real. I mean, it's not like I meant to. I went into my room
one day and saw him lookin through my closet. I have some things in there
I don't want him to see. Nothing like porn or anything, I mean, that's
the stuff that I wouldn't mind it if he found (because that would mean I
had a marvellous stash worth hidin more than anything), but this time he
was nearin on some personal stuff, from old lovers ... lovers from other
lives ... and he don't need to see that sort of thing about me, his
father-figure. I told him not to and he told me that he just wanted to
know who I was, and I told him that I didn't know who he was and that I
didn't want some goddamn snoop riflin through my shit like he was and
when he told me that he'd tell the cops I was molestin him, holdin him
prisoner, I thought of all this life that I had since gettin out of
prison and I fuckin pulled back and punched him in the face. He let out a
god awful scream. He tried to run past me and I thought he would run for
the street so I I didn't mean to, I don't even know where it came from,
but shit if it didn't leave a huge black and purple bruise all over his
chest. I think it might have even cracked something, but what was I
supposed to do, take him to the hospital? I don't think so. So I mean, I
apologized and cried and I put him in the bed with me and I told him that
I had secrets, just like him, and we were going to have to get used to
each other havin secrets for now. He cried himself to sleep. But that's
because he was trying without my permission to get closer.

One night he had a wet dream. I felt him movin under the sheets and he
was talkin in a real low voice about something that I couldn't undestand.
He pressed against me and gripped my arm and then he shot his hot load
all over my thigh. And then he started piss on me and I didn't move. It
was so hot. I couldn't believe it was happening. It felt so good though.
When he was pissing on me he was wearing his tighty-whities and his
underwear was all hot and gooey and rubbin all over my leg I got all hard
and when he stopped pissin I rolled him over and got him to start takin
my cock up his ass ... he wasn't even awake when I started I just started
fuckin him and then the next thing I knew he was beggin me to fuck him
and I shot my hot load up in him and then when I was done I had to piss
so I fuckin pissed up in him and he moaned and made strange noises,
prolly cuz I ain't ever done that to him before and he said it felt good
but it was hard to hold in. I told him he better hold it in ... and he
started gettin up to go to the washroom but I got it in my head that I
wanted him to piss it back on me. So I beat him into the washroom and I
sat on the toilet ... it was real quiet, it was a weird hour of the
morning ... but I sat on the toilet and he didn't know what to do ... he
turned around and sat on my lap and let the hot piss out all over me ...
made me hard again so I fucked him again on the bathroom floor till there
was some of his shit on my cock ... I nearly made him lick it off but I
held off when he made a nauseated face at me. Nah. Save that one for
another time.

There was this one time when he and were foolin around and he got kind of
upset that I was simply stronger than him. I pinned him down and he
starte cryin cuz it wasn't fair that I was always winnin. I told him that
I was gonna always win till he got bigger than me. He seemed to fight it
and I thought maybe he wanted really to fuck me. "Want to fuck your
daddy?"

And that was when I first called myself to him. I didn't really think
about it before but it really was like that's what we were. There was no
equal in this, we weren't boyfriends, we weren't like bros or anything
... he was definitely younger than me. He was young enough to be my son
so that's what he became. I liked it more. I told him he was a good boy
and that I would always protect him. But we stayed away from the love
word. He seemed to want to say it to me but I wasn't scared of it I think
... scared of it because this couldn't be love like I had always thought
it would be.

Then he said that he wanted to fuck me ... so I sucked on his cock till
it was nice and wet and lay him on the floor and proceeded to lower
myself on his 7 inch cock and man did it ever feel good ... I bounced up
an down on him and then he told me to get up on the couch, to stick my
bum out and he started fuckin me and it fel pretty good, I'd forgotten
how good it felt really ... I really hadn't been fucked since prison ...
but I didn't want to think about it like that.

When he started cummin, and it was soon because he was fuckin me fast and
furious-like he shot his load up in me and then left his cock in there
for a minute and fell against my back. He was sweatin. I asked him if he
was alright. He told me he'd never felt better. He then bent down and
sucked the cum out of my arse hole and when I turned around he kissed me
on the lips and we shared the boy-cum that was still hot from his fuckin.
I then sat him on my cock on the couch and he fucked me nice and slow,
for as long as he could take it before I flipped him over and fucked his
pale white boy arse rough and hard make it hard for him to speak even
while I pounded his little body full of my juice.

Then we lay on the couch and he pulled the blanket on top of us and we
turned on the tv and found some movie to start watchin ... he said, "I
love you."

And it was like lightenin went off in my eyeballs ... that's all I
remember ... that's all I could feel was a pain like death was grippin
everything in me. I must have been havin such a fit that I knocked myself
out.

Next thing I know it was the morning after, early in the morning, before
the traffic starts on the highway outside my house on the busy street. He
had fallen asleep on me and his cheeks were still stained with tears. I
woke up and kissed him. He woke up and he was so happy he started punchin
me on the chest, like I'd cheated him of something ... like I'd hurt his
feelins. But I was sore from the epileptic seizure. I hadn't had one in
some time. I told him about my siezures again. Told him that they happen.
Told him to get my pills out of the nightstand now. And when he came back
I was sittin up then and told him to come sit with me. Told him that I
would be alright.

He looked up at me, handed me some water to take the pill, and as I was
swallowing it he said, "Is it because I told you I love you."

I mean maybe it was. Most likely it wasn't.

I told him, "Not at all. Telling me you love me is one of the best things
I've ever wanted to hear. I'm so glad you love me. And you know what
little guy, I love you too. I'll take care of you. You and I, I mean, we
ain't exactly the perfect couple but we can watch out for each other ...
if you can handle me, I'll handle you."

And he giggled and laughed and hugged me and buried his face in my side.
And I couldn't believe this.

"I love you Daddy."

"I love you too Son." And then I got brave. I asked him, "Where do you
get the cash from?"

He blushed and got all quiet.

I told him, "You know if you and I are gonna make it we gotta be open
with each other. From now on when I ask you something you gotta tell me.
Okay?"

"Yes."

"What do you call me?"

"Yes sir."

"Now, where do you get the cash from?"

"Someone I know. I go there and they give me the money, tell me that I'm
a good boy and all that, but I can't stay there. They just watch out for
me."

"What does he make you do?"


He looked up at me. "I promised I wouldn't tell anyone about them. I
can't tell you."

"Come on bud, tell me."

He looked down and sulked. Then he looked up at me and smiled. "I like
the dog there. The dog and I are great friends."

What?

"What!"

"Ya." He curled up into me, he was cold. Obviously there was something
going on here and I wanted to get to the bottom of it.

"Well you know what, I want you to show me where this person lives."


"I can't, I mean ... I can't right now. I have to wait till I'm invited
over."

"What do you mean? Now you better start makin sense or I'm goin to get
fuckin pissed off here kid."

Everytime I got angry with him he would look at me with some puppy dog
expression and I would give in and start kissin him, which I did, and I
brought him into the bedroom and we made out for a while before passing
out. I was exhausted. Having seizures wipes me right out obviously,
combined with the medication I was totally useless for about twelve
hours.

When I woke up he was in the other room, I could hear him
clickety-clackin on the keyboard on the computer. And then I heard him
get up and come into the bedroom so I pretended to be asleep while he
grabbed his shoes from the closet and then he tip-toed, in that way
children do, really exagerratedly, through the kitchen to the living
room. He grabbed his coat from the hall closet and then up and left.

I got up as quickly as I could and dressed while rubbing my face clean. I
ran out to the living room and looked out through the window by the cedar
bar. I saw where he was walkin and got to followin him.

Up the street I followed him, tailing him like a cop follows a criminal.
I followed him all the way up through the street of the college student
dwellings, what they call the student slums, which is in fact an old
suburb littered with old Victorian homes, and Georgian homes, and
neo-Tudor styles, and classic greystone homesteads. Prime ministers have
been born in this neighborhood. Writers have spent time in these
buildings. Famous actors have been in films made in these homes. But this
little guy was taking an obscure trail, seemingly familiar to him,
cutting through paths that went through backyards, through a fence and
suddenly coming upon a lawn where a dog had been sleeping, raised its
head to see the boy come through the fence and gave a low bark.

I lingered in the bushes while I watched as the boy went over to the dog
and started petting it. The dog was a big old black lab. The kid lay on
the cool ground with the dog and started talking to it, calling it by
name, Bernard. "Oh Bernard, you're such a cutie, I miss you too, I love
you Bernard. Oh Bernard." The dog licked at his little boy face and the
boy giggled and laughed and the dog got up while the boy remained on all
fours. The dog was sniffing at the boy's crotch. I realized the dog was
probably smelling me on his clothes. The dog's nose went up into the air
and then gave a big sneeze. I was distracted and didn't realize that in
the meantime the boy was actually sniffing the dog too, or at least he
was acting like he was and soon the boy coaxed the dog to lay back down
and the boy began scratching the dog's belly.

"Oh ya, that feels good eh boy, you like that eh?"

And then I couldn't believe my eyes. The dog got a boner and the boy
clamped his 12 year old mouth around the violet shaft poking out and the
dog just lay there while the kid sucked on it. The boy sucked away,
scratching the dog's belly, and the dog made some grunting noises for a
minute. The boy laughed and loved this. What a kinky son of a bitch of a
kid I had on my hands! I suddenly thought we had to get ourselves a dog
for him. That's right, I suddenly had plans for the future with me and
this kid. I watched then as the dog started cumming and the boy laughed
and actually swallowed the load and just then the screen door at the back
of the house opened and I realized that I had him, the pervert bastard
that's coercing this kid into thinkin it's alright to do this sort of
bullshit to dogs. Fuckin prick. I got ready to make my rampage from the
bushes, ambushing that sick mother-fucker. I held back though.

It was a woman coming out in a long white dress and a blue plaid wool
blanket around her shoulders. She had the most striking red hair, she had
skin of the palest hue I've ever known any woman, or creature to have.
The kid sat up then and wiped his mouth and the woman coming upon him
said nothing of what she surely must have seen the goriest end of. I
watched with my mouth wide open.


The closer she came to the boy, I was more able to see her. She was
actually sickly pale, feeble looking, there were lines around her face
that sketched a sad tale of abuse and shame and pain. She seemed to
attempt a smile but she hurt in so many ways that glee and pride were
obstacles now. The boy jumped up and called out, "Mama, I miss you."

Oh ya, you bet I was surprised.

"Come here child. You look so well. So healthy. Where have you been
staying these days?"

"With a nice man."

"Does he treat you good."

"Yes, ma'am."

I blushed. I felt so bad for following him, for not trusting in this
child. But how is this happening, why does he not live there?

"Now you mustn't come here so often. I know you love Bernard but it's so
dangerous. This house is evil and you know that. If your father knew you
were here you know he'd treat you just like the rest of your brothers and
sisters." In one of the upstairs windows a curtain moved and the pale
face of a strange-looking spectre loomed there ... something about the
eyes ...

"Some day I will come back Mama and I will kill my father. You know that?
I will save all of my brothers and sisters."

"Sweety, you must soon learn to fend for yourself. I don't know how much
longer I can keep up this secret from your father. I saved up some money
for you this time but it's going to be a long time till I can help you
again. I love you Charles Rutherford." She said his name longly, like the
loneliest aria of the saddest opera. A cold wind blew the last sounds of
the boy's name across my face and the autumnal leaves crisply whispered
it back to me. His name had never had meaning, I don't know if I had ever
said it before.

The big black dog laboriously rose to his feet and barked and wagged his
tail. At first the dog barked at me and I froze. The mother looked scared
suddenly, and I swear all the light of day left the world and a darkness
like winter came upon the lawn of such a sweet reunion. The dog walked
only a couple of steps closer and the mother looked scared for her son.
She hugged him. Then the sound of a car pulling in a lane that must have
been at the front of the house disturbed everything about the moment. The
dig turned and started barking in the other direction, running for the
front of the house.

Two naked children ran out the back door. One of them had bruises all
over its lower body. It was a girl too. The boy with her was older, he
had pubic hair. He was so skinny, but lean with muscles, he was hard ...
it seemed almost as though the boy, about 14 years old, had just been
raping this younger girl, a sweet-faced doll of about five. My eyes
failed to blink I was astonished.

"I have to go love," she whispered, "take this." She handed him the same
kind of envelope that I was accustomed to finding on my own kitchen
table. He was giving me everything. I could tell. This kid was a child,
an innocent, he was the treasure.

"Run, now," she said, "and you must never look back."

There was a tremendous noise in the house as though a satanic garrison
were marching to the backyard, "Where the fuck is everybody? I want my
dinner served up propa."

Charles, the kid, ran through the path where I was hiding, undetected in
the bushes there I shivered with fright knowing something wicked this way
was coming. He flew by me without looking. I heard the wheeze of his
stifled tears.

I looked back to see a monster of a man, easily over six and a half feet
tall, burly, dark-haired, clad in a powerful dark suit with a golden
necktie. He told his wife, or rather, the woman that had mothered
Charles, with nothing more than the curl of his finger, to come to him
and obey him and she flung herself at his feet and he kicked her!

I chased after him. I was scared to make myself known to him. The summer
days were shortened now, the darkness was comin on fast. Street lights
flickered on as we ran down the labrynthine trail to where we had
started. He veered off in a strange direction. I continued in the correct
one. I went right back to the house and waited for him.

He did not come home.

I waited and the night got windy and the elemantal fury of this dark city
tapped at the windows and screamed through the trees as their barren
limbs scratched at a starless night.

I went back out. I opened the door though and there he was, just sitting
there on the front step. Shivering and cold and white and scared.

"What are you doing out here?"

I sat down on the step next to him.

"Is it possible to tell the truth but to not tell the truth at all?"

"Of course it is."

"Is that lying?"

"No."

"I feel like I lied to you."

"Oh, buddy, no, it's alright, it's alright. It's nothing."

"I told you that I got the money from someone but I never told you who it
was."

"Come on inside."

"Not till I tell you."

"It's alright ... I didn't tell you the truth either Charles."

He looked at me. To hear his own name like that must have smacked with
the echo of his own mother's voice. He looked at me and started to cry
and the night air chilled him to the bone.

I confessed to having followed him, having had seen everything that he'd
done. He blushed and got up and seemed to make to run for the street
again. I grabbed his hand and pulled him back at me and hugged him, which
is something I know he needed very badly. I needed to give him a hug very
badly.

After much crying and explaining of nothings that permeated this
situation but did nothing to give the subject substance, I told him that
I would get us a dog that we can have around the house if he'd like.

"Now come on. Let's get back inside, out of those cold."

"I love you."

"I will always love you Charles. If you ever need anything ever, I want
you to know you can come to me. And when you're ready to go face your
real father you let me know and I will stand behind you."