Date: Thu, 12 Apr 2001 17:29:28
From: Ganymede
Subject: Pandora's Box XVI

Pandora's Box XVI,   by Ganymede and Christopher.


WARNING:

This story contains a graphic description of sexual acts
between a man and a MINOR boy. We do not condone child abuse, how-
ever boy-love as described in this story is an entirely  different
matter. 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 copy
has been placed in the Nifty archives for your enjoyment. Feel free
to post it to appropriate newsgroups or send it to your friends. The
story cannot be used to derive monetary gain. It cannot be placed in
archives that require payment for access, or printed and distributed
in any form that requires payment.

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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!


Pandora's Box XVI: Monday Afternoon


Keith was waiting outside near the fountain. He was standing
in the hot afternoon sun beside a brightly polished red Jeep Wran-
gler that looked as if it had never been driven before. It was of
the soft-top variety with an over-sized roll bar cage that was
wrapped in foam just in case your head got bounced against it. It
also had oversized six-spoked wheels and tires, so it was not only
high off the ground, but somewhat comical at first glance. Yet
despite its whimsical, Mattel-toy-like quality, it clearly
announced that it was capable of going over very rugged terrain.
It was not the kind of vehicle that one saw very often in Cam-
bridge, and then more likely than not it was being driven by a
Harvard undergraduate with indulgent parents.

Joel and I walked over to look inside from the driver's side.
Neither of us dared to touch the lustrous pain, but David went
around to the passenger side, opened the door, and climbed into
the front seat.

"Cool!" David said admiringly. He had his feet up on the
dashboard as if he owned it.

"Very cool," I added. I was not at all sure what was so cool
about it, yet I realized that boys of my age were supposed to
admire such things.

"This could get into some really rough places, I bet," David
went on. "I bet there's no place around here that could stop it."

Joel shrugged. He was into high-performance sports cars, not
pseudo-military vehicles. "I bet there's lots of places up
there," he said with a broad gesture towards the distant moun-
tains.

"I bet there's not," David said argumentatively, "One of my
friends has a Wrangler just like this one. He's got a Humvee too.
It's wild, but he likes the Wrangler more. It can go anywhere you
have the guts to take it. Nothing stops it," he claimed.

I wasn't sure whether I should align myself with Joel of
David on this one so I stayed quiet. My mother came down the steps
with Aunt Sue and they stood in the shade of the flowering wiste-
ria for a few moments talking. I had the feeling, what was quickly
becoming an all-too-familiar feeling that they were talking about
me. It seemed to me that all my mother and my aunt talked about
was me, and then it was usually in ambiguous terms that I could
not understand.

My mother looked at me with what appeared to be concern. She
nodded, then said something I could not hear. I think she asked a
question because she gestured with her typical `I-have-no-idea-
but-maybe-you-do' hand motion. Aunt Sue gave her an answer of only
a few words, shaking her head. She turned around as Steven came
down the steps. He was dressed in shorts and a loose tee shirt. He
paused for a moment, listening to what Aunt Sue was saying, making
his own brief comment, before continuing down to join the rest of
us at the Jeep.

"Well, are you Wrangler hotshots ready for the ride of your
lives," he joked.

He caught the keys that Keith tossed him and they exchanged a
few words about whether there was a full tank of gas--there was;
the expected time of return--before dark; and where we would be--
South Fork Arroyo. It sounded like fun even to my urbanized imag-
ination.

Joel and I began to climb into the rear seat. Steven tapped
me on the back and pointed to where David was sitting. He did not
say anything. I realized what he was trying to tell me. He was
right. I would have much preferred to sit in the front with
Steven. Instead, I shrugged. It was easier that way.

"Sure?" Steven said firmly. That was all that he had to say.

"It's okay, Steven. I can sit in back with Joel," I said hum-
bly.

David swiveled around in his seat and smirked. He already had
his seat belt on and he clearly had no plans to sit in the back
with either me or Joel. I didn't see why we couldn't take turns,
but I didn't say so. Steven smiled at him.

"It's not okay. Would you mind sitting in the back, David,"
he said absently. It should have been a question, but it was not.

"I was here first," David answered, enunciating each word as
if some of us were deaf.

"Yes, you probably were, but I didn't ask who was first. I'd
like Chrissie up front with me. If you don't mind that is," he
said bluntly.

"I don't mind, Steven. It's okay. I think the view's probably
better from the back anyway," I said quickly. For some reason I
suddenly did not like him calling me Chrissie in front of David.

"Chrissie?" David chortled immediately. "I thought it was
only your mommy who got to call you that, Chris-toph-er," he tor-
mented. He made my name sound stupid. "Can I call you `Chrissie'
too?"

"No!" I said angrily. "If you can't be nice why don't you
just shut up." I sounded like a scared rabbit.

"Chrissie, that's enough!"

Steven's tone had changed. I could tell that he did not like
David very much, but I didn't understand why he was being mean to
me. David was spoiled rotten, and if he didn't get his own way, he
quickly became rude. I clenched my fists impotently, squeezing my
fingers into my palms until it hurt.

"David?" Steven said softly.

"Yes, Uncle Steven?" David replied with mock sincerity.

Anyone could tell that he was sucking up big time, but hold-
ing out for what he wanted. He sounded just like his mother. He
had it down to a fine art.

"Would you mind riding in the back seat?" Steven said
sweetly. He paused for a few seconds, waiting for David to
respond. "Assuming you want to come with us," he added. The mes-
sage was very clear.

"Sure," David said grumpily. "Why don't you sit here, Chris-
sie?" he said menacingly to me.

He unfastened his seat belt and climbed over the seat and
into the back. I clambered over and took his place, reluctantly
and knowing that he was not finished with me yet. David would find
a way of getting back at me. There were boys like him at my
school. They could make my life miserable whenever they wanted. I
couldn't help how I looked, but they used that at every opportu-
nity to ridicule me. David leaned over the back of my seat so that
his head was almost next to mine.

"You little faggot," he whispered. "I bet your ass is sore."

No one else heard. I fumed silently, holding in my anger.
What made it worse was that he was correct in his assessment and
we both knew it. Just sitting on the firm car seat was uncomfort-
able. Steven started the car, engaged the gears or whatever it was
that one did to make the car go forward, and roared down the
driveway. Once outside the main gates, he turned hard right onto a
narrow dusty track. We bumped along, temporarily forgetting the
dispute about the seats.

For a long while the road was only two lines in the dry grass
and it was a lot of fun. Without any one else knowing, I pretended
that I was driving through the deserts of Saudi Arabia during the
Gulf War. Captain, no Major Chris Faran of the Green Berets on a
secret mission to destroy a scud missile launcher.

"We're on the Agua Caliente Indian Reservation, right now,"
Steven explained. He had to shout to be heard over the road and
wind noise.

"Wow!" I said.

I gazed around me, wondering where the Indians were. I
thought about restructuring my game in case we saw some Indians.
It did not seem right to pretend they were Iraqi soldiers.

I did not have long to wait. After a few more minutes of wal-
loping and careening along the track, it joined up with a bitumen
road. Steven pointed up ahead, beyond a low rolling hill covered
in tall cactus and scattered dark-green conifers. There were a few
small houses and ramshackle buildings. A dark-skinned woman was
hanging out washing on a line strung to between a mobile home and
a telephone pole.

Just after we passed the turnoff to the houses, the road
stopped at a metal gate and a some steel bars that were laid
across the ground. There were a couple of boys playing in the dirt
and they ran over when the Jeep came to an abrupt halt. They waved
at Steven, obviously recognizing him. They were nearly the same
color at the earth, a dull reddish brown. Even their ragged blue
jeans, which was only clothing they wore, was earth colored. Both
of the boys were skinny, but not malnourished. They had black
thick hair and eyes that were so dark I could not see their
pupils.

One of the boys unlatched the gate and they both climbed on
to swing it open. It squeaked loudly and then clanged at it
bounced off a steel post set in the ground. A boy jumped off and
ran up to the car. Steven handed him a dollar bill and the grubby-
faced urchin beamed at him with teeth that were the color of
chalk.

"What's that?" I asked Steven, pointing to the metal bars.

"That's a cattle-grid, Chrissie," he answered.

Immediately, David hooted from behind me, letting me know
that he was planning to torment me for the rest of the trip.

"It keeps the cows from crossing even if the gate is left
open," Steven added. Why did he ignore David's rudeness?

He drove through the now-opened gate, waving to the boys,
both completing the return trip on the gate. The bitumen ended
within a few yards. By a couple of hundred yards further on, the
road had become a rough track and Steven slowed down and put the
Jeep in four-wheel drive. Now, we drove much slower and the Jeep
bounced up and down so much that I had to hang onto my seat.
Behind me, Joel and David were whooping and hollering like they
were riding wild broncos. Steven was calm, even driving with one
hand on the wheel. The other hand, his right hand dropped casually
onto my seat. I didn't think anything of it. At least I thought
nothing of it until his fingers slowly crept up and onto my bare
thigh. I glanced at him and he winked. He gave me an `I-know-you-
want-me-do-this' look.

I didn't move. I just smiled slightly and lowered my eyes. I
watched his hand creep higher up my thigh until his fingers
touched my denim-covered crotch. He stroked the little bulge so
lightly that I could barely feel it. However I could feel it. My
excitement grew instantly. I did what Bryce said I should do when-
ever I needed to show what I wanted. I wanted to show Steven that
I was willing, that he could do whatever he wanted. I moved my
knees as far apart as I could, until one knee was against the door
and the other leg was against the transmission hump.

Steven's hand stayed right were it was. His fingers prodded
gently at my boy-part, taking his time but obviously intent on
teasing it into erection. I could feel my penis getting harder and
harder with every bump. Every time the car bounced, his hand
closed on my sex, squeezing, almost holding me down in the seat.
It was not very long before my heart was pounding. In the hot sun,
still tired from the long night and trip back from Los Angeles, I
half-closed my eyes. I was content. Not just happy, but aware that
at that moment in my life, I had everything that I wanted.

"Hey, you guys back there," Steven shouted over his shoulder
as the Jeep slowed to crawl over some exposed boulders.

"Yeah?" David answered.

"How's it going?"

"Okay," Joel answered.

"Is anyone getting bruised?" Steven laughed.

"Joel isn't," David chortled cruelly. "He's got built-in
padding He just bounces around a lot, like Jello."

"I don't!" Joel retorted with a loud screech. "Shut up will
you. I can't help being fat."

"Whoa! Calm down, Twinkie," David tormented. "Before you
lose your cream."

"That's enough guys," Steven laughed.

He patted my crotch, feeling my squat hardness as it pointed
upwards and struggled to escape from my shorts. He shifted down a
gear and applied the brake as we began to descend into a canyon.
There were no signs that anyone had been this way in a long, long
time. There were no tire marks except the ones that appeared
behind the Jeep.

We slowed even more, as the car neared a precipice. The road
was very narrow. For a few minutes, Steven kept both hands on the
wheel. Yet, his frequent brief glances towards me were enough to
show where his interest lay. At the bottom of the canyon, when the
car was nearly stopped, Steven's fingers returned, this time
relocating to my zipper. He tugged at it. For a moment I thought
about pushing his hand away, but I didn't. I wanted his hand
there. It was where it belonged.

Instinctively, I moved my knees further apart again. Unless
David or Joel leaned over my seat and looked down, they wouldn't
see what Steven was doing, and at that point I didn't care if they
did see. It took only a few seconds before he had opened my zipper
and the metal button at the top of my shorts. I felt his hand
slide under my briefs, his fingers rotating the gold and diamond
band that encircled my boyhood. It was his gift, in return for my
gift of innocence. The ring made me his boy even more than the
gold bracelet on my ankle. His fingers pushed at my testicles,
guiding one, then the other back out through the band. Suddenly it
dropped off my now-hardening penis and fell onto the seat. It had
taken only seconds for my erection to return. He pushed my briefs
a bit further down so they were out of the way and exposed my
rigid little penis to the hot sun. It was throbbing and I sighed
as his fingers began to caress it.

I sighed softly and trembled with excitement as his hand
pressed back along my penis. His fingers closed on my shaft, push-
ing the skin down before pulling it back up. Each time he tugged
playfully on the puckered end, stretching it further and further.
Again and again he did that, each time revealing more of the blue-
tinted dome within. Then, when the skin was coming about halfway
back each time, he carefully eased my foreskin down and completely
uncovered the little helmet head. It was moist and shiny and the
sun made that already hot part of me glow. With the skin bunched
up behind, the glans became crimson.

By that point the sparkling diamond band was safely put away
in the pocket in my shorts. Steven played with my penis as if it
was a toy and he was a boy himself. He flipped at it, allowing it
to slap against my lower belly. He pushed it down between my legs
and pretended that it was no longer there, that I was a girl. He
rubbed over the exposed head until I squirmed in my seat. Finally,
he resorted to pulling the extra skin back and forth, exploiting
the entire short length of my penis in slow jerks. I sighed
loudly, lifting my buttocks up from my seat not only to relieve
the constant tenderness but to increase the delightful sensations
that Steven was giving me.

I heard David laughing and I spun around to look behind me.
He was sitting forward in his seat and looking between the two
front seats. He was watching Steven masturbate me. And so was
Joel. Both of them, with big smirks and judgmental eyes that knew
exactly what he was doing to me. I wanted to die. Steven did not
appear to mind. He did not even slow down until I pushed his hand
away from my penis. Even then, my penis kept throbbing, doing its
bold little dance to invite his hand back to where it had been for
the last fifteen minutes. His hand dropped lower. His fingers fon-
dled with the delicate folds of my scrotum, poking at my tiny tes-
ticles, pulling on them until I wriggled away in my seat. I glared
at Steven, not wanting him to stop, but to show that I was upset
that David and Joel were watching.

"I bet that feels really good, doesn't it Chrissie?' David
sneered. "Better than doing it with Joel I bet."

"Shut up," Joel said angrily. "You promised you weren't
going to tell."

"Telling them doesn't count," David sniggered.

"Why not?"

"Why do you think, Joel-ly?" David taunted. "Look at them and
then go figure it out for yourself."

"Shut up," I said angrily. I pushed at Steven's hand again. I
did not want him touching me while they were watching and making
fun of me.

"What are you worried about? Everyone knows why he likes you,
Chrissie!" david continued unabated.

"Why?" I demanded hotly.

"Because you're a queer."

"I am not!" I retorted. My face was getting red and I could
feel my heart jumping inside my chest.

"You mean you're not a queer, not even after you sucked Joel-
ly's cock!" David said gleefully, bursting into laughter.

"No!" I said angrily. I shoved harder at Steven's hand,
finally pushing him away.

"What's the matter, Fag-Boy? Are you afraid Steven will find
out what you like to suck doesn't have any hair on it? And it's
not a boob?" David tormented.

"I already know what Chrissie likes and it's none of your
business, David," Steven rebuked firmly. "You don't need to be
calling him names."

"Who's calling him names?" David blurted out. "Look at him.
He's a fag. He sucked Joel's cock. I bet he likes taking it up his
ass too."

"David, that's enough," Steven said.

I wiped my hand over my cheeks. My fingers came away wet. It
wasn't because my eyes were watering. I clenched my fists. More
than anything, I wanted to hit him. I wanted to put my hands over
my ears so I couldn't hear him.

David shrugged. "Everyone knows what he is and why he's here.
Even Chrissie knows it's true. That's why he's crying."

"No!" I wailed. "You're a fucking shit-head."

"Oooooh," David sneered. "I'm scared now. What's the matter,
Fag-Boy? Is your hiney sore? Can't you go poop properly?"

"Shut up!" I screamed.

"Ohhhhh, the poor little queer is getting mad now," David
went on.

Apart from what he was saying, he looked and sounded so much
like his mother that it was depressing.

"I'm not!"

"Yeah you are. But only because it's true. That's why, isn't
it? Everyone knows what you are, Chrissie. And everyone knows why
you're here, because they all know he's a pedophile. And you want
to know something else? Everyone knows what happened when you went
to L.A. with him."

"Nothing!-." I shouted.

I was going to say `nothing happened', but it would have been
a lie. Steven was right beside me. I was not going to lie in front
him. I was not ashamed of what I had done. I could not change who
and what I was, any more than David or Joel could. All I could do
was pretend.

"What's a pedophile?" I murmured.

"It's a person who sexually abuses children, Chrissie,"
Steven explained calmly. "It's a word that my brother tends to use
a lot. I imagine that's where David heard it. From his father."

"I don't understand," I said awkwardly. Steven had not
denied David's claim. "Are you?"

"Am I a pedophile? I don't think of myself as one. Perhaps I
am, I don't know. I'd rather think of myself as a boy lover. I
love boys. I can't help it, Chrissie. I can't help it any more
than you can help what you are. It's just the way that things
are."

There was a long silence. I hung my head in shame, wondering
why Steven had let David go on and on. It wasn't fair. I fumed. I
was not angry with Steven, not really. By then I knew him well
enough to realize that he usually had a reason for everything that
he did. David, I hated with a passion.

Occasionally, when I bothered to look up from the floor, I
glimpsed huge granite boulders beside the car, sheer rock walls as
the canyon narrowed, scattered clumps of trees that suggested a
water course was not very far away. With every passing minute, the
canyon became narrower. It was like going back in time to a dis-
tant era when naked Indians roamed the land.

Finally, Steven stopped the Jeep and turned the engine off.
The engine noise echoed off the walls of the arroyo and then van-
ished. Silence settled. Peace returned. We were in a very private
place that could have been a thousand miles from civilization. I
could smell the scent of flowers on the faint breeze.

"Does anyone care want to get naked so he can work on his
tan?" Steven asked playfully. "No one ever comes back here, except
for me that is."

Even though he probably intended it as a joke, I glared at
him angrily. David laughed. Joel did his squeaky giggling thing. I
shook my head.

"Come on Chrissie," David teased. "You get naked all the time
around the pool."

"Go on Chrissie," David guffawed. "Everyone here has seen
yours already."

"No!" I retorted. I was not in the mood. "Maybe I don't want
to."

"There's nothing to be up-tight about, Chrissie," Steven
said simply. "David's right about one thing. Everyone here has
seen your dick. You have a beautiful body and there's no reason to
be ashamed about it. Hell, I'll strip off as well. In fact I'll
even go first," he laughed. "It'll be fun."

With that, Steven climbed out of the car. He slipped off his
shoes, unfastened his belt, opened the front of his shorts and
dropped them to the ground. Then, off came his tee shirt, tossed
onto the front seat of the car. He stood there, leaning on the
hood of the Jeep, confronting us three boys and dressed only in
his briefs. I could not take my eyes away. He had a fabulous body.
He was so strong. So tall. He was my bear, my big grizzly bear,
covered in hair, densely matted at his chest, thick on his arms
and legs. There was even hair on his back.

"Well boys? Whose next?" Steven asked boldly.

I giggled. "You aren't naked yet!" I pointed out.

"I'll get naked to if you'll do it first, Chris," Joel
cheeped.

I looked at him with something akin to amazement. Was this
really Joel? He looked like Joel. He sounded like Joel. He
smirked. He was having fun the way that a boy was supposed to have
fun by breaking rules and testing limits.It was impossible not to
like him.

"Well, Chrissie?" Steven teased. He flexed his arms, showing
his muscles off. There was thick black hair under his arms.

"Okay. How about him?" I said rudely, with a glance over my
shoulder at David.

"No way am I taking my clothes off around you perverts,"
David derided. "I don't plan to turn into a fag."

"Geez!" Joel groaned. "It'll be fun running around in the
nude. No one will know if we don't tell them."

"Yeah, if you could run, Tubster," David sneered.

"Why do you have to be mean all the time?" I said with as
much calmness as I could muster.

I glanced at Steven. Why didn't he intervene? All he had to
do was tell David to shut up. It was like he was enjoying watching
David make fun of us. Then, I glanced at Joel. I could see he was
angry. He had the same impotent, helpless expression that I prob-
ably did. My mind was made up.

"Okay, Joel," I said bravely. "Let's get nude."

I climbed out of the car. Boldly, I unfastened the buttons on
my shirt and pulled my arms out. If I was going to do this, I was
going to do it in style. I tossed the shirt over my head, hoping
it would land somewhere on the car. It fell neatly across the
windscreen. It was a good shot for someone who was awful at bas-
ketball. I stepped back from the Jeep, fumbling to unfasten the
buttons and zipper on my shorts. I shucked them down my legs until
I was like Steven, naked except for my briefs. Only my briefs cov-
ered a whole lot less than his did.

"Hey, look at the queer undies," David scoffed. "My sister's
got panties just like them," he added.

"Shut up!" Joel retorted. "Why can't you just leave him
alone."

"Ooooooh, the fat-boy's getting mad now. What's the matter
Joel-ly? Do you still have the hots for Chrissie?"

"Shut up!" I intervened. "Now you, Joel."

Joel struggled out of the back seat. He had a lot of trouble
doing it at first because he was still wearing his seat belt.
Finally, he jumped to the ground. He barely managed to retain his
balance by coming down hard on his hands. He grunted. I felt sorry
for him as he pushed his bulk up off the ground.

"Da-da!" he chirped, as if he had just accomplished some
remarkable feat of athletic prowess.

"Smooth landing!" David laughed. "For two hundred pounds of
Jello."

I watched without a lot of interest as Joel undressed down to
his underpants. It was not what you would call a pretty sight. His
sunburn was no worse than it had been the last time I had seen him
at the pool, but now it stood out against the milky whiteness of
his lower belly and upper thighs. In his darkened bedroom he had
been pale pink, but not white. He wore boring white underpants,
the type of underpants that mothers buy for their sons when they
have no appreciation that a boy should be proud of his body. They
went up nearly to his belly button, and would have covered it
except for the fact that his belly pushed them down. His bottom
looked like it was the same size as Steven's.

"Hey, big butt," David challenged.

Naturally, Joel turned to look at him. "Yeah?"

"You'd better be careful when you bend over."

"Okay, guys," Steven interrupted. "On the count of three, we
drop them at the same time. Deal?"

I nodded. So did Joel. We waited for the count, ignoring
David's laughter from the back seat of the Jeep. He stood up to
watch, ready to clap.

"One." My hands moved to my sides. "Two." My fingers slipped
under the elastic waist band. "Three."

I was watching Steven while I pushed my briefs down. He did
the same thing, his eyes fixed on my body. His penis appeared. It
was long and thick, even though it was limp. Fortunately, mine was
the same way. We stared at each other across the Jeep, almost
unaware that Joel and David were watching. I know what would have
happened if they had not been there. I turned away as soon as the
thought came into my mind. Even I knew that it was not advisable
to get an erection in front of Joel and David.

I found myself face to face with Joel. Without his underpants
on, the contrast of reddened arms and legs and the top half of his
torso with his middle section was as startling as the contrast
between his body and mine. I was the skinny native boy, bronzed
from head to toe and everything in between. Joel looked too much
like the Pilsbury dough-boy with sunburn to deny David's immedi-
ate observation.

"He looks like the Pilsbury dough-boy after a day at the
beach," David guffawed.

"Shut up!" Joel shouted. "I don't!"

However, even the way that Joel denied it, I could tell that
he had been called that name before. I was the `girl' and he was
the `dough-boy'. Kids can be very cruel at times. His penis looked
much smaller than I remembered.

"Okay guys," Steven laughed. "I don't know about you, but I
feel great." He pointed towards the rock wall of the canyon. "Over
there is a pool. Usually it's deep enough to swim in this time of
year. It's in the shade too, at least for most of the day so you
can keep out of the sun, Joel. I'm going to lie down and soak up
some rays over here. You can go exploring if you want to guys.
There are some Indian paintings up on the rocks. Just stay in this
area and keep an eye out for rattle snakes. It's a bit early in
the year for them to be out, but if they are they'll be in a bad
mood."

Joel and I nodded and headed off towards the area where
Steven had pointed to. There was a group of trees that were very
different to the trees that grew in Cambridge. We picked our way
through the woods using caution and a lot of noise to scare away
any snakes that might be hanging around. After a hundred yards or
so, we discovered that there was a pool exactly where Steven had
said there would be.

The water was dark, green colored where it was deeper. We
waded out to our knees. It was cool, not cold.

"David's mean! Why did he have to go and call me the Pilsbury
dough-boy," Joel squeaked.

"Uh huh! I don't know why he acts like that," I said misera-
bly.

"Because he's a fucking ass hole," Joel said. "He hates me."

"Why?"

"I guess because my dad is richer than his dad," Joel said.

"But they are rich," I said knowledgeably. "I stayed with
them last summer for a week. They have lots of money."

"His father's a lawyer. How rich can he be? Maybe he makes a
million a year if he's lucky."

"That's a lot," I murmured.

Joel made a million dollars sound like nothing at all. My
mother wouldn't make that much if she worked double shifts for her
entire life.

"Not really," Joel said. "Not after taxes. It's only about
six hundred then."

"Oh!" My mother made thirty thousand dollars a year if the
salon was busy and she only took a week's holiday. I knew that
because I had helped her do her taxes a week before we left.

I thought for a moment. "Okay, but then why does he hate me?"
I asked.

"Huh?"

"Why does David hate me?" I repeated.

"He's jealous of you."

"Jealous of me? Yeah, right. There's a lot to be jealous of,"
I answered.

Joel smirked. "You know. Because of you and Uncle Steven."

"Huh?" I asked nervously.

"Geez. You and Uncle Steven," Joel said loudly. "As in he
likes you?"

"I don't get it," I said absently.

Joel shook his head. He waded out a few more feet, nearly up
to his waist. He giggled. "It's cold on my dick."

I waded up until I was next to him. "Why did you tell him
about what we did?" I asked point-blank.

Joel shrugged. "You went off with Uncle Steven. I guess I got
mad."

"Huh?"

"I wanted you to like me,- you know. I wanted us to be like
good friends."

I nodded. I thought I understood. "Are you gay?" I asked
without thinking.

Joel pulled away, turning to face the way we had come from
the Jeep. I wanted to touch him, to say something, to let him know
that I understood. He obviously did not want to talk about it.

"I'm gay," I announced.

"That's a surprise," Joel said sarcastically. "You don't
know what it's like."

"I'm finding out," I admitted. "It isn't as bad as people say
it is. It's just different, that's all. Besides, I can't help the
way I am."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Joel said softly.

"Then what are you talking about?"

"My dad. I know he hates gays. I think he hates me already
because I'm fat. If he thought I was gay,-"

"Oh! Let's swim over to the other side and see if we can find
the paintings Steven was talking about," I suggested hopefully.

I dropped down into the water, shivering as the coolness
flowed over me. I began to swim, breast-stroking with my head
above the surface, making leisurely progress towards the other
side of the pool. I could see my arms moving through the water. I
had slender, brown arms, arms that moved gracefully, pulling me
through the water with very little effort. Joel splashed along
behind me, panting heavily. I stopped when my feet hit the sand
and stood up again. Joel waddled behind me, stumbling as he tried
to avoid the large pieces of rock that had fallen from above.
Together, we clambered over and around boulders, scrambled
through twisted, stunted trees, shouting at the tops of our lungs
to scare off the snakes that were sure to be lurking under every
stone or behind every bush. Our goal was to try to find a way up
the cliff in front of us, although if we found a way up that prec-
ipice I doubted whether either of us would have used it.

And we were naked, gloriously, shamelessly naked, the way
that boys were always intended to be. At least in my jubilant
mind, it was we were supposed to be. I was having fun, but it was
more than that. David, my nemesis, was out of sight so he was nec-
essarily out of my mind.

With nudity came freedom. We were free to do what we pleased.
Even Joel picked up on it and for a long while we cavorted like
savages, whooping and carrying on, and barely aware of the under-
lying sexual connotations of what we pretended was wrestling, but
was really an excuse to lie face to face with our genitals pressed
together. As the afternoon wore on, our exhilaration did not
diminish. We screamed, laughed, peed where we thought snakes were
hiding, and created a preteen mayhem that no normal adult could
appreciate. Occasionally, Steven would shout something loud
enough that his voice would carry through the trees and we would
shout back at him. It was nice to know that he was in the vicin-
ity, but it was also nice to be by ourselves.

We had been playing for about two hours when we finally
dropped down onto a small patch of sand that did not have sharp
rocks buried in it. I was breathless. Joel was gasping and he was
covered in beads of perspiration, even though it wasn't that hot.
He stretched out on his back with his arms behind his head. There
was a hint of a smile on his face. His belly quivered every time
he managed to breath deeply. The last time I had seen him lying
like that I had sucked his penis. I sat next to him with my arms
wrapped around my knees. Had I really done that to him? It seemed
so long ago.

"That was so cool," I said after a while.

"Yeah. It was cool!" Joel turned his head, looking right at
me. "There's almost no fat on you, is there?" he observed. "You're
so lucky."

I glanced at him. "My mom starves me to death and that's
lucky?" I said as seriously as I could.

We both laughed. Joel continued to stare at me. His eyes
stopped at my foot nearest to him. He didn't say anything for a
while.

"Did he give that to you?" he asked bluntly.

I fingered the ankle bracelet. I knew who the `he' was who
Joel was referring to. I nodded slightly.

"It's nice." Again another long silence. "It's gold, isn't
it?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it is. I guess so."

"What's it like?"

"Huh?" I asked. "What's what like?"

"You know. What's it like?"

"Huh?"

"With him!" Joel ended abruptly. Then he spelled it out for
me. "What's it like with him?"

At least, he thought he had spelled it out. "What's what
like?" I asked inattentively.

"Forget it! I'm sorry I asked," Joel said grumpily.

"Don't get all pissy," I said rudely. "What do you want to
know? What is what like?"

Joel did not respond at first. He thought for a while. His
right hand shifted down to his crotch. He covered his genitals,
then allowed the little circumcised head to peek out through his
fingers. He waved it around, bouncing it against his thighs. It
appeared to be getting bigger. Every few seconds, his fingers
slipped down to scratch his testicles.

"You know,- what you do with him. You do stuff with him,
don't you?" he said impatiently.

I panicked. `Stuff' in boy lexicon was a tame way of talking
about sex. Joel wanted to know what I did with Steven. I shrugged.
I wanted to tell him something, but not everything.

"It's cool!" I hoped that was enough. `Cool' could mean just
about anything you wanted it to mean. It said a lot or it said
nothing.

"How cool?"

"Very cool!"

"Did you,-. Did you suck him?" Joel asked in a sudden surge
of bravery.

I gawked at him, then glanced down taking in his very obvious
erection. It was much larger than mine when it was hard. My mind
went though a hundred scenarios and ended up at the same place,
with my lips around Steven's penis, tasting the strange taste of
his semen in my mouth. I could still feel its thick slimy coating
on my tongue, running back over my teeth then swallowing, emptying
my mouth even as more continued to erupt from his penis.

"A promise is a promise," I said nervously.

"Huh?" Joel asked.

"We promised each other we weren't going to tell anyone," I
reminded him.

I felt terrible as soon as I said that. I had told other peo-
ple just as Joel had broken the promise. Bryce knew. Steven knew.
Even Mark, who I doubted I would ever see again.

"I'm sorry," Joel muttered. "I only told David because I was
pissed at you. I'm sorry, okay?"

I accepted his apology with a smile.

Joel smiled. "I can see why he likes you. You have a really
nice body, Chris," he said quietly. He waited a few moments. "Like
where your belly is, there's only those little folds of skin. And
I've got this," he added as he grabbed a handful of pink flesh at
his waist.

"You would lose weight if you lived at my house," I offered
gleefully.

I was grateful that the subject had been changed, even if it
was back to the uncomfortable subject of my appearance.

Joel burst into laughter. "I wish I looked like you."

Despite his laugh, he sounded sad. I tried to cheer him up.
"My mom would feed you carrot sticks and broccoli all the time. If
I'm really good for a whole week, I get to eat celery for a
treat."

"You're funny," Joel remarked.

He thought for a moment. Idly, his fingers began to rub his
penis, doing what all boys do eventually when left to their own
devices. I watched him masturbate with a vague awareness that my
own penis was beginning to get stiff as well.

"You are so lucky," he added.

"Me? Lucky? Yeah right," I replied. "Lucky, that's me. Chris
Faran. Luck is my middle name."

"You are."

"Hm,- Let's think about this for a bit. I don't have a dad
and my mom works like non-stop in a beauty salon so we can live in
a crappy little apartment in Cambridge, and you do have a dad who
makes like millions of dollars a year, and who buys you anything
you want, and you like live in some incredible mansion in New
York, and,-" I stopped, realizing that I was going too far.

Joel shook his head and his belly wobbled. Even his boobs
wobbled. He was a boy and he had boobs like a girl. Even his nip-
ples were fat. My nipples were tiny and flat, and brown like pen-
nies. Joel's nipples were much larger and looked like fat cones.

"And you have him," he finished abruptly.

"Huh?"

"Uncle Steven," Joel said. "And I'm fat and ugly."

"You're not ugly," I countered. "Besides, the important
thing is what you're like on the inside."

"You really believe that?" Joel sneered. "You sound just
like my mom."

"Sorry," I said humbly.

"Hey, what was that?" Joel said. He tried to sit up. He ended
up rolling onto his side and pushing himself into a sitting posi-
tion.

"What? I don't think I heard anything," I replied.

"Listen!"

"To what?"

"That!" Joel whispered. "It sounds like someone's coming
through the trees."

"You're making it up."

Still, I turned and looked, trying to see beyond the trees
into the shadows cast by the overhanging cliff. There was another
shadow there, a shadow that did not belong. A human shadow. David
burst out laughing. He emerged from the trees on a direct course
with us. He was still dressed.

"Here's Fat-Boy and Fag-Boy," he chortled as he came up to
us. "Whose turn is it now?" he added with a smirk. "Let's see.
Fat-Boy has a stiff dick so that must mean you're going to be the
one on the bottom, Chrissie. I hope he doesn't squash you to
death."

"Shut up, ass-hole," I said vehemently.

"Oooooh, he's getting angry. You know my sister thinks you'd
make a really pretty girl. You'd have to get your dick and balls
cut off, of course. Maybe they can turn your dick inside out and
you can use it like a pussy for when your ass gets tired."

"Leave him alone," Joel screeched.

"Shut your face, dough-boy."

"Why don't you leave us alone, David?" I asked miserably.
"I've never done anything to hurt you, and neither has Joel."

"You don't belong here, Chrissie."

"Neither do you," I retorted, without the slightest idea of
what I was saying.

"Stop picking on him," Joel squeaked.

"Why? So he can suck your dick again, Joel-ly?" David snick-
ered. "Personally, I can't think of anything more disgusting that
sucking a fat boy's cock. Assuming you can find it first," he
laughed.

"I hate you," Joel shouted. "Why do you have to spoil every-
thing and make it sound so terrible?"

"Because it is. That's why they put perverts like Uncle
Steven in jail. That way they get to fuck each other and kids are
safe."

"He's not a pervert," I said hotly.

"He fucked you in the ass, didn't he?"

"No!" I retorted.

"No? But you see, I heard him talking to what's his name, his
doctor friend about your bruises. Do you want to show us, Chris-
sie? Then you can prove he didn't stick it up you."

I shook my head angrily. Joel clambered to his feet, shaking
the sand from his flabby behind with his hands.

"Get lost, ass-hole," he said loudly. His face was redder
than I had ever seen it.

"Ooooooh," David tormented. He pushed at Joel, hitting him
in the shoulder. "Don't you want to see his ass, Joel-ly? That way
you can see what you're missing."

"Leave him alone!" Joel shouted.

Standing face to face, and even though he was several inches
shorter and stark naked, Joel looked like he was easily twice
David's weight. From side-on, the difference in weight looked as
if it might be as much as three times. David rocked on the balls
of his feet, goading Joel on.

"What are you going to do about it Fat-Boy? Well? Everyone
knows fat boys can't fight."

Joel tried to punch him, but David stepped swiftly to the
side and Joel's fist went by him. Joel straightened up. By that
point I was already on my feet. I was not sure what I should do. I
knew I had to get involved, but I was scared. Joel's entire body
was shaking with the stress of the moment. He launched a second
punch with his pudgy fist. This one David easily deflected to the
side. He stood there for a moment, watching Joel recover his bal-
ance. Then, his right fist slammed into the big soft white belly.
Joel grunted and stumbled as he wheezed loudly. I tried to steady
him, but I was pushed to the side.

"That's one, Fat-Boy," David sneered. "You threw two punches
at me so it's only fair I get to do the same to you, isn't it Fat-
Boy?"

He didn't wait for Joel to answer. He came forward, bouncing
on his toes, fists raised to protect his face, fists clenched like
a boxer. His right arm shot out quickly and hammered into Joel's
face. Joel bawled and fell down only a few inches from where he
had been lying.

"That's two for the fat-boy."

David turned to me. "How about you, Chrissie?"

I shook my head. I stepped back. I glanced down at Joel. He
had pulled himself up into a sitting position and he was sniffling
and complaining bitterly. He had one hand clamped over his eye
where he had taken David's punch. I wanted to run. My heart
pounded inside my chest. David smirked knowingly.

"See him? That could easily have been you, Chrissie," David
said with a deliberate turn of his head towards Joel. "It still
might. You saw him start the fight just now, didn't you?"

I shook my head slightly, hardly what you would call with
grim determination. Did it really matter who started the fight?
Besides, no one would believe that Joel would start a fight with
anyone, especially not with a boy who was a year older and a lot
stronger than he was.

"Yes, you did, Chrissie. You saw him. Have you forgotten
already? He threw the first punch, remember? He tried to hit me
twice before I let him have it."

"You were being mean to him," I said nervously.

"Me? I was just telling him the truth. He is a fat boy, isn't
he? There are big rolls of blubber on him. He's just like a
hippo."

"No!" Joel whined. `Hippo' was obviously another one of the
taunts that he had suffered through before.

""Why don't you leave us alone?" I said, shaking as the words
came out. It sounded as if I was stammering.

"W-w-hy d-don't I l-leave y-you alone?" David sneered. He
rolled his eyes. "Because, Chrissie."

"Because why?"

"Because I'm not finished with you yet. See, I already know
what you like, Chrissie. You like to suck guys' cocks."

I shook my head nervously. My lips were dry

"Yes, you do. Joel-ly told me that you sucked his cock until
he came. I still can't believe Fat-Boy got off in your mouth,"
David chortled. "He was your first, wasn't he?"

"First what?" I asked.

David snickered. "You probably sucked Uncle Steven already,
but I can still be number three."

"Huh?"

"How about you suck my cock and I'll leave you alone for the
rest of the day?"

I stared at him like he was out of his mind, slowly shaking
my head. He didn't seem at all perturbed. If anything, he was even
happier. He licked his lips, then glanced around him furtively,
just to make sure that he was not being observed. Casually, his
hands dropped to his shorts. He was wearing boxers because the
hems of the legs protruded beyond his shorts by the thickness of a
finger. Again, he licked his lips. He opened his zipper and fum-
bled around before he extricated his penis.

It came out pink and limp, yet surprisingly large. I had a
vaguely depressing thought that Steven's penis would have been
very similar in size when he was twelve. Compared to my tiny
thing, it looked very grown up. Keeping his eyes locked on mine,
David began to rub it. It stiffened while I watched, becoming even
longer, so long and thick that it completely filled his fist and
then some. I would be lying if I said I was not impressed. He
dragged at it some more, waving his stiffness in front of me as he
pulled out his testicles and let them drape over the elastic of
his boxers. They were large as well. I thought I could see some
strands of dark pubic hair around the base of his penis where it
protruded through his boxers.

David beckoned to me to approach, to kneel down in the sand
before him. He licked his lips again.

"Don't Chris," Joel whimpered.

"Shut up Fat-Boy. I'm just testing him to see how much of a
queer he really is. He's thinking about it right now. He wants it
in his mouth so bad he can't stop himself. It's true, isn't it
Chrissie? You want to suck my cock, don't you?"

I managed to shake my head. Again, it was hardly a confident
denial. I could not take my eyes away. The head of his penis was
wet, like Steven's had been, not dry on the end like Joel's or
mine. I swallowed. Would it taste the same? It seemed logical that
it would. The head was flared, the skin so tight that it was
shiny. I could feel my heart beat getting faster the longer that I
looked at it.

"Suck it, Chrissie," David ordered. "You know you want to.
All queers love to suck cock. It's what makes them queer in the
first place."

"I hate you," I said angrily.

"Ooooooh," David moaned. "Does this mean I have to get Fat-
Boy to do it?"

He turned around, pointing his erect penis directly at Joel.
Joel shook his head.

"Too bad! Well, if you two fags don't want to suck me, that
just leaves Steven," David announced boldly. "He'll do it too. You
know that, don't you Chrissie? He's sucked it before."

I shook my head. "No! You're making that up!" I denied.

David regarded me with disdain. "I'm not. He's sucked me
dozen of times. He'd still be doing it too if you hadn't come
along."

"No!" I shouted.

I clenched my fists into balls, impotent little balls. I was
a whole head shorter that David. I was thinner as well. There was
no way I could fight him and hope to win.

"Come on Fag-Boy, open your mouth," David said determinedly
as he stepped closer to me. "Just pretend I'm Steven," he added.

Run away! That's what they teach in Taekwondo. Never fight.
Never use the skills that you have worked so hard to get. Run! The
Taekwondo run! I stepped back, ready to flee.

David's fist would have hit me hard in the face if I had not
managed to deflect some of it. Instead, it glanced off my cheek.
The force of it, the suddenness of his attack unbalanced me. Both
of my hands lifted up instinctively feeling for the pain, protect-
ing my head, waiting for the next blow. The punch I expected never
came. I barely glimpsed his knee. He rammed it up into my crotch,
lifting me off the ground before I toppled back. Suddenly, the
punch to my face didn't hurt any more. I clutched between my legs,
trying to hold it back, that terrible screaming agony that had
erupted in my testicles. I could not breath. I lay there, writhing
in the sand like a wounded animal.

Even though my sparring partners made a habit of going for
the groin, it was never like this. There was always padding there,
that and the plastic protector that cupped my genitals. It still
hurt sometimes, but never like this. Finally, air managed to reach
my lungs and I gasped between sobs.

"You hurt him!" Joel screeched.

"I didn't kick him that hard," David denied. "He's just a
cry-baby queer."

"Y-y-you,-" I groaned. I shuddered, trying my very best to
stop crying. "Y-y-you ass-hole."

I staggered to my feet. I don't know what I was thinking. It
was a lot safer lying on the ground. David regarded me with indif-
ference. Trembling, I came to the attention stance. I even bowed,
head low, eyes looking forward, always watching him. Then, into
the ready position. David smirked.

"Ooooohhhh," he taunted. "He's going to hurt me now. Don't
try it, Chrissie. I'll fucking kill you."

We fought for ten seconds. Afterwards, Joel told me that I
moved so fast that all he could see was a blur of arms and legs. I
think David still got a few punches in because there were bruises
on my ribs and back. My first kicks were feeble or they missed him
by a few inches. It was difficult to get out of the practice mode.
Even in sparring, you weren't supposed to deliver full power
punches or kicks. My testicles were on fire and I still did not
want to hurt him. However, with each wild lunge, I became angrier
and angrier. Finally, I let him have it. Never in the head. Only
one time in the groin. I owed him that. A round house kick in the
lower belly, spinning around for a back kick that struck his
thigh, missing his upper chest as I came back for a second time, a
high kick that hit his shoulder and set him staggering back until
he splashed into the water. It was over then.

"That's enough, Chrissie!"

I stopped, turned slowly, saw Steven there standing between
two boulders. He was still naked. Vaguely, I wondered how long he
had been standing there.

"S-S-Steven?" I gasped.

My knees buckled and I slumped down into the sand next to
Joel. I held both hands over my groin and rocked back and forth,
wanting the pain to go away. Steven came up beside me, knelt down
in front of me, lifted my hands away.

"It hurts," I whimpered, shaking my head.

"I know. Lie down, Chrissie. You'll feel better in a while."

He guided me back, placing my legs so that they were in the
water, gently splashed water over my genitals. I shuddered as the
cold water flowed over me, slowly chilling my aching testicles. I
looked up at Steven. There was concern on his face.

"I'm sorry, Chrissie."

"How long?" I managed to get out.

"For a while," Steven answered. He turned away for a moment.
"Go back and sit in the car, David!"

"But he started,..."

"I don't want to hear it. I'll talk to you later."

David came to his feet. He rubbed his lower belly with one
hand. The other hand was clasped over his genitals, holding them
tightly just like I had been doing. He was not getting the cold-
water treatment that I was. I should have kicked him harder
because he could still walk, or rather he hobbled off.

"Why?" I asked.

"Why what, Sweetie?"

"You knew, didn't you?" I confronted him. "You could have
stopped him. Why didn't you?"

Steven nodded. "You have to stand up by yourself. You did a
great job, by the way."

"Huh?"

"You kicked the crap out of him," Steven laughed. "He had it
coming, and you gave it to him, Chrissie."

"You were awesome," Joel pipped in. "I wish I could fight
like that. It was like whack, whack, whack."

I smiled ruefully. "I didn't mean to hurt him," I said anx-
iously. "Well, I did a bit," I admitted. "To get him back for what
he did to me and Joel."

"I saw everything," Steven said. "You did exactly the right
thing, Chrissie."

"He said a lot of really mean stuff too," I added.

I thought I might as well get all the shots in that I could
while David was not around to stop me. He would have his chance
later on, and I knew he would take the opportunity to make out
that it was all my fault.

"Yes, I expect he did."

"He said stuff about you."

"Such as?" Steven asked.

"That you sucked his cock dozens of times."

I wanted Steven to say it had never happened. Steven smiled
ruefully and shrugged as if it was unimportant in the general
scheme of things. It was important to me.

"Did you?" I asked.

"Once, last year when they came to visit, we were out at the
pool one night. Just the two of us. It was a mistake," Steven
answered apologetically.

I sighed. I tried to stand, but it took too much effort.
Steven brushed some more water over my crotch. The pain was begin-
ning to dissipate.

"Why didn't you stop him?" Joel asked bluntly. He fingered
his eye. He would have a black eye before long. "You could have
stopped him easily."

"I didn't stop him for Chrissie's sake," Steven answered.

"For my sake? Yeah, so I could get kicked in the balls
right?"

Steven gave me a shocked look. "No! Don't even think that,
Chrissie. I wanted you to stand up to him. I had no idea he was
going to do that. Or to hit Joel either for that matter. It all
happened so quickly."

"I don't understand," Joel said.

"Neither do I."

Steven looked uncomfortable. "Chrissie, you can't go through
life being pushed around by people like him."

I shrugged. "I don't mind."

"No! Don't even think that, Chrissie! You can't help being
the way you are. Some boys are aggressive and some boys aren't."

"That's me. Mr. Non-aggressive. Even my mom calls me that
sometimes."

Steven smiled. "It's one of the things I love about you.
You're probably the most passive person I've ever met."

"So? I can't help it." I wanted to cry. "It's just how I am."

"I know that." Steven breathed out. "However, you can't go
through your entire life being pushed around. I wanted you to
stand up to him. And you did. I'm so proud of you, Sweetie. It
took a lot of courage to do what you just did."

"I'm not even supposed to use my Taekwondo in a fight," I
said dismally. "They tell us that all the time in the class I'm
taking. You're supposed to run away. After he kicked me in the
nuts,... I couldn't stop myself."

"You did the right thing," Steven interrupted. "He deserved
what he got."

"He sure did," Joel squeaked. "You kicked his butt good,
Chris."

Steven glanced at his watch. "Do you think you can walk back
to the Jeep if I help you, Chrissie?" he asked.

He gave me his hand and carefully drew me up. I winced. We
started walking back to where we had left the car.