Date: Sat, 31 Dec 2005 10:22:11 -0800 (PST) From: "Darron, Darron The Witch, The Witch" <darronthewitch@yahoo.com> Subject: The Loft Part II by Danny The Witch Reader, please keep in mind that this is a fictional story- All editorial comments made are made by fictitious characters and are necessary to the development of the plot. The opinions expressed by various fictitious narrorators, is not necessarily the opinion of the author, his sponsors, or publishers. The opinions could be based on fact and then again they could be entirely made up. [The Author] Hi, this is Douglass again, Douglass from the future. I will for the most part be the narrator of most of this story-- most of these experiences are anecdotes from my own life. I've been around for awhile, and I believe that I am qualified to be an expert in these matters. I will be sharing many experiences with you I have had over the years-- a really great adventure-- my brother Mike, who is still with us, will be sharing some of his experiences also, as well as some other friends we have known through the years. My dad, unfortunately, is no longer with us to be able to tell you his perspective-- but I'm sure between the rest of us, you will gradually be able to perceive his role in all of this. First, let me say that I am a fan of ancient Greek myth and culture. Here are a few thoughts I wanted to share with yo'll. Pederast: Greek-Noun-A lover of boys, literally. An adult male or older male adolescent who engages young boy's sexually, especially anal intercourse. Pederast: Ancient Greeks observations of what they believed to be a phenomenon of nature, Pederasts & their natural counterparts, magnetically attracted to one another; men who love boys and boys who love men. The Greeks considered the phenomenon to be two components of the same condition, i.e. pederasty. Two separate expressions of the same sexual development. Pederasty: Greek-Verb-Was, in Greece, the word for male homosexuality; thereby insinuating that the phenomenon of boy-love, is a natural element of homosexual male sexual development. The idea being expressed in literature, that in childhood a (pederast - homosexual male) will develop one of two expressions of this condition-- to either be sexually attracted to same aged males (boys), or be attracted to older males and men- and that in adulthood, their attractions basically do not change. Thereby becoming counterparts of each other. Homosexual males attracted to older males usually begins in early- prepubescence, homosexual males attracted to same-aged boys usually begins in puberty. The Greeks did not observe a natural counterpart of this nature in heterosexual development. Therefore, it was illegal for men to engage young girls sexually, however, pederasty between boys and older male lovers was not only legal but encouraged. The modern word pedophilia can not be found in most dictionaries and that is because the Greeks never had any such word. Pederasty literally means erotic love between males, one being older than the other (considered a natural expression of this phenomenon)-- there was no Greek word or belief in a natural erotic love of children in general-- sex between young girls and men was considered a perversion, however, sex between pederast men and young adolescent and pre- adolescent pederast boys was believed to be a natural sexual condition, having both a part and a counterpart and was considered to be as legitimate as heterosexual relationships-- In fact man/woman relationships would be described by the word Philos meaning love between adults and man-boy relationships would be described by the word Eros, which was considered a higher form of love than Philos. The word Eros literally meaning: 'natural magnetic attraction' with close connotations to the idea of fate. i.e. Eros the origin of Cupid, insinuating that the gods were involved in this type of love. So strongly did the Greeks believe that the phenomenon of the older/younger aspect of the natural attractions of male homosexuality and that man/boy relationships were the purest expression of that phenomenon that relationships of a homosexual nature between men of the same age although not illegal was significantly discouraged. In fact, in Greek Mythology, their most high God Zeus, when one day happening to gaze upon the beauty of a young adolescent boy named Ganymede naked in the woods, became so enraptured by the boy's beauty that Zeus descended from Olympus in the form of an eagle, and could not resist the temptation to engage in anal intercourse with the boy. So in love was Zeus with Ganymede and so enraptured by the boy's beauty that Zeus granted Ganymede immortality because he could not bear to see the youth grow up, there-bye keeping the boy eternally youthful and beautiful. And is considered by some to be the origin of the Fountain of Youth legends. Zeus made Ganymede his Cup-Bearer, and in Greek philosophy, the symbol of Ganymede (the cup) was considered to be the symbol of Eros; the highest form of love and beauty, even higher than the beauty of a woman. The symbol of the Eagle & The Cup can be found in much artwork dating back to the Greek empire - And was a basic symbol of man-boy erotic relationships. When Zeus' wife Hera learned of the infidelity, Zeus honestly admitted to her that his love for the boy was greater even than his love for her, and continued to have romantic affairs with the boy. The other story in Greek legend applied to male homosexuality is the story of Narcissus; a young male youth of similar beauty to Ganymede. Ganymede was attracted to older males, however, Narcissus represents the homosexual male who at puberty is attracted to other male youth - a condition that will follow him throughout his adulthood. So beautiful was Narcissus that he was the envy of Siren, a young nymph who could not resist to stare at his beauty. Narcissus upon seeing his own image in the reflection of a pond, and recognizing his own beauty fell in love with his own image. Siren was so upset, that to this day she hates men so much that she seeks to destroy them all. The common interpretation that this story insinuates that Narcissus fell in love with himself is nonsense. He fell in love with the image of a beautiful boy and from that moment realized his natural sexual attraction. What does all this have to do with modern day societies you might ask?? Only that Greek society is the basic model by which all western free societies have evolved. It is from the Greeks that have evolved ideas of democracy, republics, politics, education, art, sports, philosophy, science, literature, etc... The problem with almost all legitimized studies in the states and Britain, into the subject of childhood sexuality and pedophilia, is that they are all unscientific and inherently deceptive. They differ from many European studies because in the latter, many of these studies are truly objective and scientific and not just a bogus attempt to support a pre-assumed conclusion. In the states, for example, every single accepted study in the subject, is inherently deceptive on two counts. First, every single accepted study of childhood sexuality and development includes male, female, gay, straight, and all age categories of the child, including infancy, toddlers, pre-schoolers, pre-pubescence, and adolescents. As a direct result, a single unifying model has been established, and that model is used to make conclusions about children's sexuality (or lack of) across the bored - for all children, regardless of age, sex, or sexual orientation. The likelihood of one model to describe all children is very unlikely. There has been no accepted studies in the states to study boys and girls separately, or to separate age categories or sexual orientation. Every single one of these studies, uses far too little of a sample, and the sample groups consists predominately of girls. They always throw in a few boys in the study-- but the conclusions could hardly be accurate-- for boys, and here is why. If you do a study of 500 children, to gauge what the consequences were of sexual experiences they encountered with an adult, and 450 of those children are all female, and you can conclude from the study that girls have a very high potential to be harmed from these kinds of experiences-- of course, the statistics on the boys are going to be included-- so if 90% of all girls suffer harm, and you count the boys into the matrix, then they conclude that boys also have a high probability of injury - this is deliberate deception. Even the Greeks knew that pre-pubescent girls show primary evidence of asexuality, and are not likely to enjoy sex in general, nor to consent to it with an adult. That's why they made it illegal. However, there is much evidence that boys do show sexual interest and can experience sex with an adult and enjoy it and not suffer harm. See Essex Study, Germany. Furthermore, the studies all include all age groups but are predominately of extremely young pre-pubescent girls. Tell me, how can you apply the same conclusions of very young pre-pubescent girls, with older, adolescent boys?? Your telling me a first grade girl will react to sexual experiences with an adult, the same as a fourteen year old boy?? So what you get is something like 75% of the subjects are girls under the age of five and it is primarily this group that all of these conclusions are based. On the second count, studies into the nature of adult sexual interest in minors, is also deliberately deceptive. Pedophiles, or heterosexual males who target young girls for sex, are motivated by entirely different aspects than gay men who are attracted to boys. First of all, pedophile men, more often target extremely young subjects-- as young as two years of age-- they have a propensity not to need consent, and they have a far greater propensity of abusive behavior of their very young victims. However, gay pederasts, and straight pedophiles are lumped into the same category, are concluded to have the same motives and modus operendi-- Even though there is no accepted study to study the subjects independently to see if this is true. The Essex study in Germany as well as similar studies in Holland, show conclusively that pedophiles and pederasts are not the same. Pederasts seek consent, usually choose much older subjects, and are much less likely to behave abusively towards their partners. Furthermore, their partners are boys not girls who show a much greater propensity to seek sex, and enjoy sex. So, in other words, the studies in the states and Britain that are used to support the idea that children are likely to incur injury from sexual experiences with adults-- are predominately based on subjects that are female, under the age of five, and who were raped, repeatedly, in an incestuous relationship with a pedophile man. There is also some strange hypocrisies going on recently especially in the states. There is a very popular trend now going on for prosecutors to try minors as adults for serious crimes. To date, the youngest minor that has been tried as an adult, was eleven. It is very common for boys 12, 13, 14 to be tried as adults now for serious offenses. To date, I have not been aware of one girl that has been tried as an adult. The arguments that the prosecutors make to the courts to try a minor (sometimes even pre-pubescent minors) as an adult is that the mental capacity of the minor is not immature to the point that he was not capable of a reasonable understanding of the likely consequences of his actions. So in other words-- the prosecutors argue that, sure he's a kid, and he's immature BUT he is still old enough to have a reasonable understanding of the decision he made and therefore should be held responsible the same as an adult. This is hypocritical, because the logic that is used to support age of consent laws goes like this: that the mental immaturity of the minor is such that he can not understand the reasonable consequences of his decision to grant sexual consent - therefore the law says he can not grant consent because he is too young to have a reasonable understanding of the consequences of making that decision. This is lunacy-- If you think this is ridiculous logic-- let me point out a couple of completely loony situations that have developed. In California, a minor boy of eleven years old, was involved in two separate trials simultaneously. In one trial, he was being charged with the murder of his father. The prosecutor argued with the judge to try the juvenal as an adult by arguing that the minor's mental capacity at eleven was not so insufficient that he did not have a reasonable understanding of his actions. In the other trial the juvenal was testifying in behalf of the prosecution because it so happened that the boy was involved in a sexual relationship with an adult man at the time that the alleged murder occurred. The same prosecutor, in both trials, involving the same exact boy, argued to the court, two exactly opposite points concerning the mental capacity of the same minor. In the trial involving the sex charge of child molestation, the prosecutor argued before a different judge and a different jury, that since the minor was eleven, his mental capacity was such that he could not grant legal sexual consent, because it was not reasonable that he could, at that age, have a reasonable understanding of the consequences of making serious decisions. I wonder why, they didn't just combine the two trials-- since the man was also being charged with conspiracy to commit murder, the prosecution saying he put the boy up to it. That's not the point the point is I'll tell you why they didn't combine the trials-- no jury in their right mind would go along with one argument supporting the minors mental incapacity, and the exact opposite argument made by the same prosecutor involving the same minor!! One more example of lunacy, Now, in the states, prosecutors can charge an individual with child molestation even though the minor does not wish to cooperate. Prosecutors are very often now, threatening the minors with imprisonment and obstruction of justice if they refuse to testify in their own case - furthermore, prosecutors will further threaten the minor with imprisonment and perjury if he refuses to testify in court consistent with sexual molestation. There was at least one very famous case where just after the trial the boy committed suicide. Nice hu?? I thought these people were supposed to be concerned about these "victims" - Is that how you treat a victim?? By threatening to imprison them if they don't help you throw their lovers in prison?? In another case a 12 year old boy was on trial for manslaughter. The prosecutor successfully persuaded the court to try his as an adult. He was looking at a 20 years mandatory minimum sentence in prison if convicted. The prosecutors offered the juvenal a plea bargain-- prison until he turns 18, and then a full release. The boy instructed his attorney to accept the offer, but was prevented from entering the plea in court because the judge indicated that because he was a minor he could not make that decision without parental consent-- the boy's mother refused to grant her son permission to accept the plea bargain and consequently the boy was convicted and sentenced to prison for twenty years. If that's not lunacy, please tell me what is-- the boy was old enough to be tried as an adult but couldn't accept a plea bargain without parental permission because he was a minor!!!!! All of this has a point to it though, don't be disconcerted-- there is a big secret that big brother doesn't want the public to know. There are boy's who seek sex from men. And actually, its been going on for awhile, and all of this lunacy and deliberate deception is nothing more than parlor tricks-- slight of hand - The fact is that intelligence has been aiding boy lovers and boys who love men for awhile now-- they just want it to stay secret. The same way they have been aiding the gay movement-- in fact were behind the gay revolution in the first place. I should know, my dad was in intelligence. This will all become clear as I tell my story, but right now I'm getting sleepy so back to the story... Frank Moore got inside the Cook County taxi. "Where to?" The driver asked as usual. "Kankakee," Frank said. The driver's eyes got wide, "That's gona be quite a fair." Frank nodded, and then added, "Grand Central Station" The driver turned back towards the front, grinded the gears for a moment, and as the car started moving Frank rested his eyes. It was 6:30 in the morning, and he was still a little groggy. When they got to Central, Frank handed the cabby the fair, and a five dollar bill. "That's a hell of a tip," The cabby said impressed. "You never saw me, You never had this fair," Frank said as cool as the Cheshire Cat. "What fair?" The cabby said, and grinded the gears again, on the Ford, apparently too lazy to double clutch it. A moment later he zoomed away. Frank headed inside the station towards the ticket counter. Inside the huge station, it was crowded-- the usual Monday morning traffic. A lot of hobos, too, as usual. One of them caught Frank's sleeve. "Hey mister-- can you spare a dime?" The young hobo said. Frank looked at him. Typical-- painted on dirt on his face with shoe polish. "How old are you?" Frank asked. "Fifteen," the boy said. "Are you a real run-away?" Frank asked. "Of course mister-- You don't think I'd be bummin' from folks if I had a home do ya?" Frank pulled out his billfold, and handed the kid a five. He knew the boy was obligated to split it with the real hobo that he was teamed up with. The kid took the five and then just stood there-- he didn't say anything. "Go on kid, get lost, or even better yet-- go home-- you're folks are probably worried sick over yas," The kid scrambled, holding up his oversized trousers with one hand. 'There's more hobos every month-- and the real young ones, are getting less uncommon,' Frank thought to himself. He breathed a heavy sigh-- "Can't save 'em all," he said out loud. When he got to the ticket counter, he looked at the big clock on the wall '7:45'. "Good day sir," The ticket man said. "Good day, 8:30 train-- to the coast," and then Frank added, "Please" "Destination sir?" "To the end of the line," Frank said. "Then will you be needing a sleeper sir?" "Yes, " "Very well, -" "Oh and one other thing-- " Frank said. "Yes sir?" Frank handed the ticket agent a five dollar bill, "This is my I.D. - My name is John Doe, and I'm seven foot tall, and weigh 350 lbs, and I'm a china-man." "The agent quickly palmed the bill, and then cleared his throat, "I see sir, I mean, um, Mr. Doe" Frank completed the transaction, and received his ticket, and headed towards the train. As soon as he got on bored he walked to the bar, and sat down. The bartender spoke, "Good morning sir, what can I get you?" "A bloody Mary-- make it a double." "I'm sorry sir-- but we won't be serving alcohol until twelve." Frank slapped a five on the counter. The bartender looked at it, and then up towards Frank again. Frank spoke, "One drink." "Coming right up," Frank moved to his seat, and by the time he had finished his drink, the engineers were calling "All aboard." Frank felt his stomach tighten. He never ever knew exactly what was going to happen on these trips. It was exciting. "God, I love this job," Frank mumbled to himself. The Loft by Danny The Witch Part II "I just got back from the border, And what I saw there made me know for sure We're out of order I had a dream about New Orleans In Jackson Square I heard a prayer Down in New Orleans..." -Down On The Border (The Little River Band) "Well it's alright, riding around on the breeze Well it's alright, if you live the life you please Well it's alright, even if the sun don't shine Well, it's alright, we're going to the end of the line..." -End Of The Line (Traveling Wilburys) My name is Ben. I have had kind of a troubled childhood-- although I'm really a good kid-- it's kind of complicated-- and I don't get into the kind of trouble that most boys get into-- I don't really think it's my fault. When I was thirteen, a kind of got myself into a real complex situation - which was kind of hard on my folks-- actually, I've always been hard on my folks-- I never meant to be though-- It just kind of happened. I think I realized, well- actually I knew, there was something different about me by the time I was seven-- and that's when I started getting in trouble-- you know, doing naughty stuff. The first man I tried to seduce was my Uncle Fred... I had just turned seven. Fred was watching me-- I was an only child-- I liked Fred-- he was cool-- he made me laugh. Sometimes he'd tickle me 'till I thought I was going to pee my pants. I liked it when Uncle Fred would tickle me and wrestle with me and stuff because I would get a boner. I remember-- I was always trying to think of a way to take it to the next level-- you know-- But I couldn't figure out anything. When I was with Fred alone and I'd get a boner while we were playing I would play with it in front of him - you know, and Fred would suddenly get real quiet and stop playing with me. I wanted to show my boner to Fred. I really really wanted him to touch it-- I don't know why. So on this one day after he'd been tickling me, I had a boner, as usual. And I was kind of rubbing it with my hand through my PJs. I noticed Uncle Fred's eyes dart down to my wiener every time I did this. Fred went and sat down on the couch so I immediately went and sat in his lap. I would wiggle my little butt around in his crotch, 'cause I was trying to make him get a boner-- I don't know why. It always worked too, and I loved the feel of it when it got hard while I was wiggling my butt around on it, pretending that I didn't know. While I was sitting on Fred's lap, I kept every so often grabbing my boner though my PJs to keep it hard. Fred didn't seem to mind what I was doing so I put my hand inside my pants and started playing with it like that. I looked up at Fred to see if he was going to give me a bad- boy look 'cause I knew I was being naughty but their was no look of scorn. I didn't know what to do next-- and suddenly an idea came to me. "Uncle Fred, I goto go wee-wee," I said. I ran into the bathroom, which you could see from where Fred was sitting. I didn't close the door because I never have any modesty when I'm alone with Fred. I pulled my pants and underwear down to my ankles, and I kind of looked over my shoulder towards Fred and noticed he was looking at me. I looked back towards the commode, after a few moments, I looked back towards Fred and said, "Uncle Fred, can you help me?" "What's the matter Ben," he said from the couch. "I can't go," I said. "Well, if you can't go then-" "No, there's something wrong with my weenie." Fred got up off the couch and walked towards the bathroom. As I peeked over my shoulder and saw him coming, my heart started to pound in my chest-- This was exciting. Fred got into the bathroom and said, "What's the matter with it?" I turned around to face him. I was holding my shirt up under my chin, so mostly all he saw was naked little boy, with my full boner, about two and half inches sticking strait out as hard as a rock. Fred was about to say something when I started playing with it with one hand. Fred gulped staring at my hand playing with my dick. I looked at Fred, he broke his eye contact away from my dick for a moment. "Fred, I keep playing with it but I can't make nothing happen. I think it wants you to play with it." I was a little scared-- I knew I was being naughty-- I watched frozen as Fred contemplated. After a moment, Fred went and closed the bathroom door. He then told me to turn around and I did, Fred then got behind me and reached out and touched my boner, kind of squeezing it with his thumb and forefinger. It felt really good. I noticed that Uncle Fred's hand was kind of shaking, like he was scared. "I like that--," I said to Fred. "Ben, You have to keep this a secret, okay?" "Okay, I promise." "You can't tell anybody-- Just you and me can know, okay?" "I promise," Fred than started going back and forth on my dick and I loved it. I could hardly believe I got Uncle Fred to do this with me-- I was so excited. I thought Fred was Sexy, and I got even more excited watching his strong, huge hand, play with my dickie. Uncle Fred's hand was like magic, soon I was getting a really good feeling down there. "Fred, I feel like I have to pee," "It feel good doesn't it?" Fred asked. "Yes," I started to feel like I was going to explode and pee all over Fred's hand. "Fred, I'm gona pee." "Go ahead," he said. Another few moments later, I leaned my head back on Fred's chest and closed my eyes, and suddenly my whole body convulsed, once, twice, three times. Fred then asked me if I had to pee, and I said no. He told me to pull up my pants that playtime was over. That was my first orgasm, and after that I knew how to make them for myself. I still wanted to do sex stuff with men though-- I never did again with my Uncle Fred though. He would watch me a few more times after that but I was always trying to get him to do sex stuff with me, and I guess he didn't want to. After that, I was naughty a lot of other times when I was by myself with a sexy man. My parents knew what was going on too after awhile-- I would start to act naughty with a man even if they were home-- I couldn't help it - I really couldn't -though I'd try to keep it discreet. My parents realized they could hire only female babysitters-- all the male ones would end up quitting the first or second time they watched me. They could barely trust me to be alone with any man, or even older boys. Uncle Fred was the only man I actually got to play with me, and just that once-- although I did lot's of other stuff with men-- just crazy stuff, like exposing my boner to them and all kinds of stuff. One time I asked another' boy's dad that I knew, when he was alone with me for a minute when I was nine, if I could see his dick. Needless to say, I got into a bit of trouble over that. I did get a couple of older boy's to jack off with me but that was about all they would do. I was obsessed. And I was getting older. Wiser. When I was ten years old, that's when I guess you could say the real trouble actually started. That's when I discovered the hobos. My folks had taken me with them on the train to go see my grandparents in Memphis. When we returned, and we we're at the station, I told my folks that I had to go to the bathroom. I was heading towards the bathroom when I overheard a hobo talking to another man. The hobo had said, "I'll give you a blow job for a quarter." I froze near the entrance to the lavatory. The well dressed man that the hobo had offered his remark to, said, "Take a hike kid." I was amazed. I knew what a blow-job was-- that's what the older boy's would tell me it was called what I was asking if I could do to them-- they told me if I was a girl they'd let me - I never got any of them to do more than just jack off with me-- although I'd TRY to talk them into letting me suck their dicks. They just would never let me. I looked at the hobo-- he really didn't look all that dirty-- and he looked young. The hobo was standing about seven feet away from me and I stood with my back up against the wall and kind of inched my way closer and closer to the hobo. When I got about three feet away he turned to me and said, "What's up kid?" I stood at attention. "What do you want?" "Hi," I said. "Hi," the hobo said. "How old are you?" I asked. "Sixteen," he said. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a quarter and held it out to the hobo in the palm of my hand. "What's this for?" he asked me. "For a blow-job," I said bravely. The hobo gave me a weird look, and kind of rolled his eyes-- he handed the quarter back to me. I refused to take it. He asked, "Do you even know what a blow-job is?" I put my finger in my mouth and sucked on it. "Come on," the hobo said, and I followed him into the bathroom. Inside the bathroom there was like completely enclosed stalls, not like the kind you see today-- they had a full door and walls came all the way down to the floor-- offering plenty of privacy. He motioned me into a stall and I followed. There were plenty people in the bathroom. It must've looked funny for a hobo to be going into the stall with me. The hobo looked towards a man who was starring at him and then back at me. The hobo said, "Okay son, you need help, okay I'm right behind you." He came into the stall and closed and locked the door. He picked me up under my arms and set me on my feet on top of the commode. He then unbuttoned my slacks and undid the zipper. He lowered my pants and my underpants, and my erection popped up and almost hit him in the chin. "Well," he said, "I can see your more than ready," Sizing it up he also added, "And, nothing to be ashamed of either." At ten, I had a pretty big dick-- It was like four and half inches almost five inches but skinny. "Hey-" I said, "What's your name?" "Andrew," he said. "Oh, okay," Andrew then stuck my prick in his mouth and proceeded to suck but I had other ideas. "Hey-- Andrew-" "Yea kid?" "This isn't exactly what I had in mind." "What then?" He asked. "Why don't we switch," I said. Andrew thought about it for a moment and then got a light bulb of understanding. "You mean-- you want to give me--" "Yea yea," I said as I hoped down off of the commode. Andrew looked puzzled, but he stood up on the commode in my place. Standing up, I was in perfect position to get to the object of my glory-- what I'd been waiting for since I was seven. I unsnapped his trousers, and unzipped Andrew, and let his slacks fall. I pulled down his underpants, and up sproinged my first up close look at an erect man-cock. My eyes went wide as it popped out. I'd say eight inches and as thick around as my wrist. "It's so big!" I said. "That's what you like right?" he said. Just before I put Andrew's cock in my mouth I said, "Finally," My first grown up cock. Andrew gave me all kinds of tips like how to use my tongue and such seeing that I was a neophyte at this but before too long Andrew got really excited and pulled his dick out of my mouth. He was breathing rather rapidly. "You want my cum kid?" "Cum-- what's that?" "Its what makes babies? You get a man excited enough and the sperm just shoots out." "Oh, " I said, and I had another idea but I didn't know if we had enough time. "Andrew, " I said. "Yes," "Can you put in my butt?" Andrew looked at me quizzically, "You serious?" "Yea," I said. Andrew looked around over the stall for a second, then asked, "Is your mommy or daddy around close by?" I nodded my head. "Maybe this really isn't the best time," I reached into my pocket of my trousers all sagged up around my ankles, and held up a coin towards Andrew. A large, bright and shiny silver dollar. Andrew took the coin, "You're not going to take no for an answer are yus?" I shook my head. Andrew reached inside his gunny-sack, and pulled out a tin of axle grease. "Get down off the commode, and turn around," he said. I did. Now, bend over and place your hands on the door. I did. Andrew smeared grease on his dick and some on my crack. "Are you a virgin?" he asked. I nodded. "It's a good thing for you I know the right way to do this-- you may not know but there's one or two right ways and about a thousand wrong ways-- you're lucky because my first time was one of the wrong ways." I didn't really understand but I nodded anyways. Andrew's technique was amazing-- not having been butt- fucked before I had nothing to compare it too-- but I took all of his girth and nearly half of his length without any pain-- and this was my first time. He spent no time trying to stretch me out by finger fucking me first or anything like that. He did use a liberal amount of grease. What was amazing is that he had his cock half in me, before I even realized I'd been penetrated yet. What he did was this: After I bent over, I felt him touch my butt--hole, ever so slightly. It was obvious he wasn't attempting penetration-- it made me relax. Just feeling his dick on my hole was really turning me on. Then he kind of stimulated my hole by just kind of moving the head a little bit kind of in a circle on my pucker. After a bit he increased his pressure slightly, but he still wasn't attempting penetration. It felt really good and I was wondering when he was going to try to stick it in. Then he released the pressure suddenly, and then re-applied the pressure, released, and reapplied, released and reapplied-- It was like he was fucking me, but not penetrating me. It was wild-- I'd never felt anything so good-- all the sexual nerve endings in my anus were electrified. He just kept doing that, it didn't hurt-- like I said, he wasn't pushing hard enough to penetrate. After a minute or so, I can tell you with lot's of sexual experience afterwards, that I actually could feel my sphincter muscle get fatigued-- after a minute or so I could no longer tighten up even if I wanted to, that whole muscle has been anesthetized incredibly. I also started to realize that if was feeling better and better and better and better, somehow I don't know how. I kind of turned behind me and looked up at Andrew, "When are you going to stick it in-- or are you just going to bump it against my hole all day?" "Little dude-- It's already like half in. I told you I knew what I was doing." Andrew continued to slowly fuck me, until he felt it was safe to pick up speed. As he started to fuck me faster, It felt like I was being jacked off from the inside - five fast strokes was it all it took, and my dick was dribbling. Five fast strokes was all it took for Andrew too because suddenly he began to withdraw his cock out slowly-- dripping cum all over my thighs as he did so. It was just as well, just as Andrew pulled his cock out of my ass I heard my dad say, "Andrew-- are you in here?" I managed to escape that little close call-- but I don't think without my dad having some suspicion as to what might have been happening. He saw the hobo come out of the same stall I was in. The hobo held up the silver to my dad and said as he walked out, "He gave me a dollar." My dad couldn't prove anything but the look on his face suggested that he thought I might have been up to some of my typical naughtiness, which I think he had hoped I had outgrown. The Kankakee station is like over ten miles from where I lived but afterwards, I did manage to play hooky from school every now and again and hitch a ride down there to fool around with the hobos-- I discovered that many of them were actually not real hobos but teenaged runaways, looking for some sex, who would run the rails for a week or two at a time and then go back home-- other's though, we're kind of permanent run-a-ways. When I was thirteen, I wanted to have sex with a real man so fucking bad that I decided to play the rails myself for the first time- - I had hitched a ride and played hooky that day as usual but instead of fooling with the teenagers I told them I wanted a real man-- And so they taught me the system-- how it worked-- it was called riding the rails-- and the hobos would take care of me. I did have sex with men-- and I loved it-- but-- being on your own for two weeks you get lonely and cold and hungry and really exhausted. After two weeks I went home with my tail between my legs and looking like a real hobo rather than a pretend one. My parents were real glad I came home-- I never told them why I ran away and they never asked. I was hoping I'd never do it again but six weeks later, I was off and running again-- my compulsion for sex with men, needing satisfaction. This time, I didn't know if I'd ever make it back home again. It was a long ride, as usual for Frank all the way down the line to New Orleans. He was used to it though. After the train was in motion, Frank took a little snooze-- he was exhausted. When he awoke, he looked at his watch-- 12:15. Frank got up and walked to the bar and ordered a whiskey. He sipped his whiskey, and then ordered another. After the second one, he tipped the bartender, and headed towards the coach cars. The third coach car and he spotted the red-head-- he was so easy to spot with the carrot-top. Obviously he got it from his mom, sitting right beside him, whom although older, showed as much color. Dad was sitting on the other side of Anthony, and it wasn't until I nearly completed my approach towards the family that Anthony's eye caught my own. "Mr. Moore, " the boy's mom said as she extended her hand, "Thank you ever so kindly for helping our son-- his behavior has been very troubling for us-- we were so worried each time he disappears, - " The boy's dad interrupted, "Always wonder if that's not the last we ever see of him-- when he runs away like that," he said. "Yes, I understand, " Frank said, "He's all better now-- he's ready to come home and I don't think he'll be running away again." I looked back and forth at Anthony and then his parents, and then up and down the isles, "Please-- come, to first class." The boy's family followed me to the first class car which had sitting room enough for all of us so I didn't have to talk in the isle and so be overheard. After the family sat down on one bench, I sat down on the bench facing them, resting my elbows on the flat table in-between us. "Here is the contact information," I said handing the information to Anthony's mom, and a copy to Anthony. "I know intelligence hasn't told you too much," "No-- nothing at all-- they said you would explain everything," The boy's father said. "It's a security issue. Basically your son is a genius, and has consequently observed things that are actually very disturbing and quite top-secret. He's been unable to talk with anyone about it, and has also been unable to process this knowledge. Basically, he's been having trouble coping. Because of the sensitive nature of the knowledge you son possesses, he needs to have someone he can talk to with an appropriate security clearance. The nature of the issues is both a private nature and confidential--" "I thought Anthony had some kind of personally disorder as the result of this?" The boy's mom said. "Well no-- not a disorder-- Anthony is actually quite smart and quite normal-- It is a personality difference though-- he needs special attention so that he can cope with those needs and those differences. We recommend that he meet with a one of our therapists for one session per week-- a taxi will come to pick him up same time every week. On some occasions Anthony made need an emergency session and that is when he or you should call the contact information." "I see," Said the boy's mom. "Is this some kind of a shrink sir," The boy's dad asked. "No-- not a shrink-- but a therapist-- specializing in your sons specific needs." "Any other questions?" I asked. They all shook their heads. "Thanks again, " Anthony's folks said. "Thank you, Mr. Moore," Anthony said looking more calm and more like a regular little boy again. "His impulses and compulsions should be completely brought down to normal after a few sessions-- and his desire to run away-- in fact in a few weeks, Anthony will barely resemble the impulsive child he was just a few weeks ago." They both nodded. They started to get up, "No, no, please-- stay in first class-- I'm tired, I'm going to be spending the rest of the journey in the sleeper. They all said thank you. "Good-Luck," Mr. Moore said. That night, Mr. Moore heard a knock on his sleeper door. He was dozing but not really sleeping. He got up and answered the door. On the other side was Anthony. "Mr. Moore-- Can I sleep in here with you?-- My parents said I could if it was okay with you." "When was the last time you got a good nights sleep?" I asked. "A while now-- been too worried about being away from home-- and my parents mad at me." Frank made eye contact with Anthony's mom, she nodded. His dad was resting his head on a pillow sleeping. I turned to Anthony, "Of course, come on in." "I don't have no pajamas," he said. "That's okay-- you can strip if you want, " Frank said. Frank took off his robe, he was wearing only a pair of shorts. Anthony striped to his underpants and Frank motioned him to get in under the covers," Anthony wrapped an arm around Frank and laid his head on Frank's breast. Frank ran his hair through Anthony's carrot-top, "Go to sleep now." In a few moments Frank could hear the deep breathing of a sleeping boy. 'I wish I could fall asleep that fast,' Frank thought to himself. A few moments later he was asleep also. The two of them slept that way until day-break. The next morning, the train arrived in New Orleans. Anthony's family was to be debriefed in another office. Frank hailed a taxi. "Where to bub?" "French Quarter-" Frank said. "You want to narrow that down a little bit?" The driver interrupted rudely. "I was going to say-- Jackson Square." Frank said. "Never heard of it, " the young Negro driver said, "- Ah just kidding," he said as he slapped his knees and let out a hearty laugh and then smoothly drove off. On the way Frank took notice of the charm that was dangling from the meter. "What is that?" Frank asked. "It's a talisman--" he said. "Some kind of protection?" Frank asked. "Yes, there's lot's of hoodoo around these parts-- always got to have protection in New Orleans." Frank handed the man a five dollar bill. The driver stopped the car across the street from the cathedral, turned towards Frank and said, "You want a buy a consecrated pentagram from a guy--" he asked incredulous. "Yea," Frank said. "Go to hell," the driver said. Frank's eyes went wide. He reached back into his bill-fold, and pulled out a $50 dollar bill. This time the offer was accepted. "That's been in my family for three generations," The driver said as he handed the pendant over. Frank nodded and got out of the taxi. After the driver sped away frank said out loud, "Such a liar!" Frank walked the three short blocks up Orleans to Bourbon St. On the corner was a fancy French cafe-- Frank walked inside. "Reservations sir?" The Mater'd asked. "Yes, I'm meeting someone," "Yes and who is that sir?" "The President Of The United States," Frank said. "You mean-- Mr. Roosevelt?" "Exactly," "Right this way sir" Frank was escorted through the restaurant, around the kitchen, and at the back door he was approached by four secret- service agents. "You guy's are always so dramatic," Frank said. They frisked Frank and then lead him out the back door into an alley. Just outside the door was a 1939 Black Cadillac Limo. One of the Secret service agents taped on the window, a moment later the window rolled down. A man smoking a cigar, motioned for Frank to come 'round to the other side. Two agents escorting him. Frank new better than to reach for the door handle, saying, "Ladies first." The Secret Service agent opened the door and Frank got inside the Limo, the agent closed the door once he got inside. The man with the cigar rolled up his window once again. "We got to stop meeting like this," The man with the cigar said. "Mr. Roosevelt-" "Please call me Frank, Frank." "Frank, the situation is in the process of being contained-- I'm going to be giving a briefing in about an hour as to the security issue itself-- " "Is your plan working?" he asked, tapping his cigar ashes into an interior ash tray. "It will work in this situation-- but, it's a temporary solution." "I see, " said the president, "What about a long term solution?" "I have a plan-- but you're not going to like it." Frank said. "If it takes care of this security weakness-- I think I can live with it." the president said. "It's a compromise-- there is no other long term solution," Frank said. "Go on," "It's all in the report," Frank said handing the president a brief case. "Go on," "We have to liberate the homosexuals, " there's no other way, Frank said. "I kind of guessed that," said the president. "As long as conditions are such that they benefit from keeping it a secret-- than they will, and will therefore be a weakness in every industry in the U.S., banking, government, etc... a weakness that could be cleverly exploited by a foreign enemy using techniques of extortion and blackmail." "So in other words they have to feel accepted?" The man said as he put out his cigar. "Yes, otherwise, another October 29th or worse." "And what about the boys?" "We're working on that sir-- it's all in my report." "Fine," "Nice meeting you again sir?" Frank said. The president rolled down his window and made a motion with his hand, a moment later Frank's side door opened. Frank walked back into the restaurant, but this time, through the kitchen, and down some stairs around a corner, a locked door, a long corridor, another locked door, that read - High Level Security Clearance Only, RESTRICTED AREA. He went inside, closed the door behind him, and immediately walked towards the martini bar. "Hi Frank," A lady said. "Good-morning Frank," A man said. "Good to see you again Frank," Another one said. When he got to the bar inside of his office he made himself a martini and then sat down at his desk. On the intercom he said, "Meeting, 10:00 in the conference room I want all my agents there." Once the men were all gathered in the conference room, Frank entered and closed the door behind him. "Gentlemen, what you hear and see hear is classified information-- You are not to share it with anyone." They all agreed. "I am officially debriefing you this morning on the situation-- I know you have already been debriefed but this comes from the top. After the stock market crash the O.S.S. was assigned to investigate the possibility that that national disaster was no accident but rather the result of an enemy sabotage. As a result of our investigations we concluded that it could have been-- we can not prove it conclusively one way or the other BUT what we did conclude is even more important-- HOW they did it, or HOW it could be done. In short, what we discovered is that the U.S. has a very exploitable security weakness. The phenomenon is called homosexuality-- males who have sex with other males. We had historically underestimated the segment of the population effected. Our investigations have lead us to estimate that their are literally millions of homosexual men living within our society. They exist within every industry in the U.S., all levels of government, the banking industry also. And, they are predominately undetectable. Because of their extreme need for secrecy, these men are obvious targets to enemy subterfuge, they would be exploitable by means of blackmail and other collusive methods. If an enemy was clever, took their time to execute a well thought out plan, they could exploit this situation and wreck havoc on the U.S. For example, homosexual men, could have been slowly tempted and identified by foreign agents or even organized crime, they could then be black-mailed into, oh, let's say, using foreign money to inflate the market, and then being blackmailed to dump it all on a particular moment, starting a panic sell out. Wala-- October 29th-- Black Friday. There were a lot of hushed responses around the room. "The train situation, was started by the O.S.S., we incorporated the aid of men previously convicted of sodomy, and turned them loose on the depot's and the trains, incorporating the aid of the hobos to spread the word. As a result of this experiment we have confirmed our estimates s to the population of homosexual males in our society. As you all know the line from Chicago to New Orleans, has attracted thousands of homosexual men. There's only one thing we didn't predict-- the boy's-- It seems as though that the more homosexual men started playing the train game-- the more boys started showing up-- It is apparently homosexual youth-- something we hadn't anticipated. The situation is close to out of control-- right now about half of the hobos are now considerably under aged. At the behest of the president, I was asked to stop the homosexual liberation plan for the time being until the boy problem could be contained. There's so many boys playing the rails, that it's only a matter of time before law enforcement starts to investigate-- this will eventually lead to the feds since the trains are federal jurisdiction. Then, all of this will hit the papers. It is absolutely critical-- that the general public does not learn of this homosexual youth phenomenon - Any chance of coming up with a plan to eventually liberate the homosexuals will be rejected if our society has any notion at all, about the man-boy phenomenon. Understand??" They all nodded. After leaving the office, Frank headed back to the train Depot. After wondering around in hobo attire for about an hour-- He was finally approached by a young teen about thirteen who looked a little tired and quite a bit dirty. "Hey mister-- You got axle grease?" Frank looked at the kid-- cute-- young, "How old are you?" he asked. "Thirteen-- just turned." "What's your name?" "Ben," he said. "Well Ben-- How would you like to go for a train ride?" "Sure thing mister," he said with glee.