Date: Wed, 22 May 2002 20:04:01 EDT
From: ErastesTouch@aol.com
Subject: Throw Away Kid  chapter 1

Legal Notice:
The following story may contain descriptions of graphic sexual acts.  These
acts may be between boys or between a man and a boy.  The story is a work
of fiction and has no basis in reality.

The author, or his designee, retains copyright to this story.  There may be
no reproducing or distribution of this story without expressed written
consent.

              *    *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Throw Away Kid - by Erastes                      Copyright 2000 by Erastes
Chapter 1 - A chance meeting.                    June 2001

I met Bryce quite by accident, when I happened to go to a part of the city
that I seldom, if ever, frequented.  I was looking for a building that I
could use as another warehouse for my expanding business, and a colleague
of mine had suggested an old abandoned factory that he remembered being
there.  He told me that I could probably get it fairly cheap, get
low-interest loans from the city and the state to fix-up the property, and
the building was located just a couple of blocks from the on and off ramps
to a major highway.  I couldn't argue with his reasoning, and the things he
had told me about it were definitely a plus, so I went to inspect it.  I
took the highway to get there, to see how easy it would be for the various
suppliers and our own trucks to get in and out of the area, and I was
pleasantly surprised at how easy it was.  There were just two turns to be
made, and they both looked as if they would be fairly easy to navigate, and
I pulled up in front of the structure.

I was only planning to view the building from the outside, making sure that
it was fundamentally sound and worth the investment of time and money, but
when I saw the broken door, which was opened wide enough for a person to
slide past, it just beckoned to me to go inside.  I squeezed through the
opening and stepped into the shadowed interior, pausing momentarily so my
eyes could adjust to the lower amount of light inside.  Though the windows
on the lower level had been boarded up sometime in the past, there were
enough cracks in their coverage or enough holes in them from kids throwing
rocks at them, that there was a limited amount of daylight filtering
inside.  When my eyes became accustomed to these darker surroundings, I
decided to take a stroll.  Basically this was just a large brick and
cinderblock structure, with cement floors and ceilings.  It was nearly
totally open and all four walls were covered with large groupings of
windows, which once allowed the daylight in for employees to do their work
by.  By the looks of the place, this had probably been in use during the
40's and 50's, when the US was flexing its muscle as a manufacturing
powerhouse.  Unfortunately the economy had changed over the years, as the
nation switched from a manufacturing to a service-based sector, and this
building was probably shut down during the late 70's or 80's, and has
remained abandoned since.  I could see definite potential here, but I still
wanted to check out the upper two floors as well, to make sure they were in
as good a condition as the lower one.  I looked around and finally spotted
the stairway.

As I walked up the steps to the second floor, I could see that this area
was better illuminated than the first floor, as only the lower two-thirds
of the windows on this level had been covered by boards.  I looked around,
trying to see if there were any signs of significant decay up here, but it
looked quite sound, and then I spotted something over in the far corner and
I went to investigate it.  I didn't know if it was a pile of rubbish or a
collection of debris that had fallen there, but I wanted to see if it was
anything to be concerned about.  As I got closer, I discovered it was a
heap of blankets, with a young boy buried underneath them.  I bent down to
see if he was breathing, worrying that something dreadful might have
happened to him here, but I was relieved to discover he was alive.  He
appeared to be about twelve or thirteen years old and sleeping peacefully,
and now I began to wonder what a young boy like that would be doing here.

I wasn't sure what to do next, so I just stood beside him and studied his
features, while I considered if I should wake him.  His face was smudged
with dirt, but that was to be expected, seeing where he was, but I could
still tell that he was quite cute, even under the grunge.  Yes, I did
notice things like that.  You see, I'm a closet boy-lover and I always
notice good-looking boys.  I've never acted on my feelings, as I was always
too scared of losing everything I'd worked so hard to gain, but I still
liked to look at them and dream.  As I stood there admiring his features,
noting his oblong face, thin lips, light brown hair, and delicate features,
I felt my blood begin to boil and my heart beat a little faster.  Without
much warning, a sudden urge to sneeze came over me and it escaped before I
had time to stifle it.  I was not a dainty sneezer, the type to let loose
with a soft achoo.  I was the type of sneezer who rattled the glass in the
windows when he let loose.  The sudden noise startled the boy awake, and he
sat bolt upright, his eyes showing signs of fear.

"Who are you and what do you want?" he asked, with as much bravado as he
could muster.

"Calm down, kid.  I don't want anything.  I was thinking about buying this
building and I was just checking it out.  I didn't know you were crashing
here."

"It's just temporary, until I find someplace better," he said defensively,
not knowing that he had given me more information than he probably should
have.  If I had meant him harm, I would have known that he was on his own
and that no one knew where he was, so I could have done whatever I wanted
to him.  Fortunately for him, I wasn't like that, so I tried to get
additional information without alarming him.

"Okay, that's cool, but why is a kid your age out on his own anyway?"

"That's none of your business.  I don't have to explain myself to you."

"No, you don't, but if you did, I might be able to help you."  At that
point he decided to stand up, putting us on equal footing, probably just in
case he felt he might have to run away.  As he had pushed aside the
blankets, I noticed that he was quite slender, and I wasn't sure if this
was his normal build or due to a recent lack of food.  Either way, the kid
looked as though he could use a good meal.

"Why would you do that?" he challenged me, once he was on his feet.  I
could tell that he was still kind of scared, but he was putting up a good
front not to show it.

"Well, it's because there was a time in my life when someone reached out
and helped me, and I'd like to return that favor by helping someone else."

"Believe me, you wouldn't want to help me."

"Why do you say that?  I think you look like the perfect candidate for a
helping hand."

"Well, maybe I could use some help, but you probably wouldn't think I was
worth it, if you knew more about me."  At this point he let his eyes fall
from looking at me and he seemed to be staring at the floor.  I wasn't sure
why he thought he was so worthless, but obviously someone had berated this
boy so harshly and so often that now he didn't feel he was worth anything.
I realized that you can't just convince someone who has been treated this
way that they aren't as bad as they've been led to believe, so I thought
maybe I should try to get him to see this for himself.

"Why?  Have you killed someone?"  Hearing this, he looked up at me again,
and he had a very serious expression on his face.

"No, I've never done anything like that.  I wouldn't hurt anyone, unless
they were trying to hurt me."  He seemed determined to convince me that he
wasn't that bad a person.

"Do you deal drugs to other kids?"  Again he looked shocked.

"No, I wouldn't do that either.  Do you think I'm evil?"

"No, but you're the one who told me I wouldn't want to help you, so I
decided to see how bad you really were."  He was eyeing me now, trying to
figure out what I was up to.  I gave him a minute to think this over, and
then I continued.  "Well, if you don't do those things, I can't think of
anything else that would make you unworthy of my help.  Can you?"

"Yes, I can.  You wouldn't want me if you knew how I made money to eat and
stuff."

"Are you a thief?"  This time he looked a bit embarrassed.

"Well, I have stolen some food and other little things to get by, but
nothing big."  He seemed sincere, but I needed to pursue this a little
further.

"Would you steal from me?"

"No, sir.  I'd never do that, especially if you're trying to help me."  I
believed him and he came across as an honest and likable young man, so I
couldn't understand why he had insisted that I wouldn't want to help him.
I needed to see if I could get that out of him.

"Then why wouldn't I want to help you?"  There was a slight pause before he
responded and, once more, he looked down at the floor.

"You just wouldn't.  Trust me on that one."  He seemed very sad as he said
this and I got the feeling he wanted my help, but he didn't feel that he
deserved it or he just didn't want to let me know what was so awful about
his background.  I thought it was time to try to take him off the hook.

"No, I think it would be better if you trusted me, instead.  You haven't
told me anything that would convince me that you are so terrible, and I
can't think of anything you could have done that would keep me from helping
you out.  I asked you about the things that might make me reconsider, and
since you haven't done any of those things, I still want to help you.  When
was the last time you showered or had a decent meal?

"I clean up every day or so and I eat when I need to."  I studied this kid,
trying to get a feel for why he was reacting the way he did, and why he was
so defensive about every question I asked him.  It was obvious he'd been
hurt before, emotionally and maybe even physically, and it probably wasn't
just a one-time occurrence.  This was most likely the way he'd protected
himself since, not letting anyone else get close to him again.  However, I
wasn't about to take 'no' for an answer.

"Look, kid, you didn't answer my questions.  Let's try this one more time.
When was the last time you showered and washed your clothes?"

"I wash up every few days or so, but I haven't taken a shower in a while.
I wash my clothes whenever I need to, but I haven't gone to the Laundromat
lately."

"I can see that," Kyle said with a slight chuckle.  "Okay, I guess that
answer will do.  Now, when is the last time you had a real meal?"

"I ate at McDonald's last night."

"I'm sorry, I don't consider that a real meal.  When was the last time you
sat down at a table and ate a meal off a plate, using silverware?"  He just
looked up at me and didn't respond.  I could see from his expression that
he either didn't want to tell me this information or he couldn't actually
remember, so I decided to let him off the hook again.  "Okay, we'll skip
that question.  What would you think about going back to my place, where
you can take a shower and I can throw your clothes in the washer, and then
I'll fix us a nice dinner?"

"You aren't planning to hurt me or anything, are you?"  I could tell that
he didn't really believe I would, or he wouldn't even consider my offer,
but he was still a little concerned.

"Well, I probably wouldn't tell you if I were planning to, but NO, I don't
want to hurt you in any way.  Maybe after you've cleaned up and had
something to eat, you'll trust me enough to tell me a little more about
yourself.  Deal?"

He looked at me apprehensively, trying to gauge whether or not he could
trust me.  After thinking about my proposal for a while, weighing all the
possibilities, I figured that he just decided that if I were going to harm
him, I could have done it there and not waited to get him back to my place.
"Okay, deal," he finally responded.

"Great, my name is Kyle...Kyle Loomis, and I'm glad to meet you."  I held
out my hand to him, but he didn't take it right away.  First he tried to
wipe both sides of his hand on his pants, to make sure it wasn't covered
with anything first, and then he tentatively reached out to shake my hand.

"Hi, I'm Bryce," he told me in a very meek voice.  He was looking at my
hand and not at my face when he said this.

"Well, hello, Bryce, I'm glad to meet you.  Do you happen to have a last
name?"  He looked up this time and gave me a weak grin, before he nodded
his head.

"Yeah, it's Hobbs."

"Okay, Bryce Hobbs.  Why don't we gather up your belongings and take them
down to my car, and then we can get you cleaned up and fed."

Bryce nodded his head and I helped him collect his things, which he stored
in two well-worn items, a small duffel bag and a backpack.  We each grabbed
a bag and we carried them down to put them in the trunk of my car.  We did
have some trouble getting them through the narrow opening in the door, and
we had to squeeze the contents together so they would fit through, but we
made it.  We threw his belongings into the trunk, but then he hesitated
when he got to my car's door, not wanting to sit on the seat of my fairly
new Lexus.  I eased his fears by grabbing a small throw blanket that I kept
folded on the back seat, which I use to cover the seat when I was hauling
items from work or when loading groceries into it.  He made several
comments about the car, telling me how nice it was and wanting to know if I
were rich or something That's when I decided to tell him a little about my
background and about the business I had built from scratch.  He seemed
fairly impressed by this information, and he seemed interested that I dealt
in electronic devices and computers.  I owned several good-sized stores
within a 300-mile radius, and the building I was checking out was to house
my second warehouse.  You see, we were projecting opening several more
stores over the next couple of years, and our current warehouse would not
be adequate to handle that type of volume and growth.  Therefore, if I
added this second warehouse to handle one side of the business, we could
grow without harming our current locations.  He was very interested and we
talked about this all the way to my house.

I lived in a nice suburb, a dozen or more miles from the city limits, where
it was still wooded and fairly private.  It wasn't a mansion by any means,
but it wasn't your average home in your typical neighborhood either.  It
was a four bedroom English Tudor home, with almost 2,200 square feet of
living space.  I don't know why I bought such a large home in the first
place, other than it was a good place to entertain my business associates,
as it was much larger than I actually needed.  I know it had something to
do with the fact that I loved that type of architecture, but it also had
something to do with the very private wooded lot and the large in-ground
pool that was there.  As I pulled into the driveway and parked in front of
the attached garage, Bryce's eyes became as large as saucers and his mouth
dropped open.

"You live here?" he asked, showing his excitement and tacit approval.

"Yes, sir.  This is the place I call home."  I looked over at him and his
mouth was still slightly open, as he scanned the area before him.

"It's huge.  It's almost as big as those apartment buildings down the
street from where I was staying, and four families live in them."  He
looked at me, with his big brown eyes shining with excitement, and I was
intrigued by the child-like wonder they belied.  No matter how tough and
mature he tried to act, there was still the wonder and excitement of a
little boy inside.

"It is a little on the large side, but it's not so bad."

"Not so bad, I think it's awesome.  Man, you must be a millionaire or
something."  He was so excited now that he was bouncing up and down on the
seat, and I felt that I needed to get him out of there and turn his
caged-up energy loose.

"Well, maybe something like that, but I do own it with the bank.  Why don't
I take you inside and show you around?"  He nodded eagerly at that
suggestion and sprang from the car.  He ran across the yard to look along
the far side of the house and then he came back to do the same thing to the
other side.  While he was checking out the outside, I got his things out of
the trunk and set them beside the car.  When Bryce ran back to me, he was
still excited and slightly breathless.

"Man, this place is so cool.  I can't believe you live here."

"Well, I do, and now you'll be living here too, at least for a while."  He
looked up at me and grinned, probably feeling about as important as he ever
had, and I placed my arm across his shoulder.  Instinctively he pulled away
first, but then he relaxed and smiled at me again.  Finally, we picked up
his things and I led him to the door, and then we went inside.

I gave him the cheap tour of the house, figuring that he wouldn't remember
much, seeing he was so excited, and he was quite overwhelmed by the size of
the place.  I did show him which bedroom he would be using, at the top of
the stairs and across the hall from mine, and he told me that it was bigger
than any bedroom he had ever seen.  I also took him back into the hallway
and pointed out the bathroom that he would be using too, telling him that
it would be his own private bathroom for now.  He asked me why I didn't use
it, so I told him that I used the bathroom off the master bedroom, and he
was shocked that we had more than one bathroom to use.  I told him that I'd
show him all that later, then we went back downstairs.

We took his things to the laundry room, just off the entrance between the
garage and the house, and I started running the water to put in the first
load.  I decided that we probably should wash everything in very hot water
first, just in case there were any vermin in with them, and then I would
rewash them, separating the whites, so I could also add bleach.  I was
surprised to discover that he didn't have many articles of clothing with
him, at least items that weren't threadbare and tattered, so I put the
halfway decent ones in the washer, left the others in the bag, and I'd
discard those later.  The larger bag was filled with the bedding he had
been using, so I decided to toss them in the trash too.  I told him that he
might as well throw all his clothes in the washer, including the ones he
was wearing too, and I was somewhat shocked that he took everything off,
and threw them in the washer then and there, and stood unashamedly in front
of me.  I had expected that he might keep his underwear on, leaving those
to be washed later, thus not exposing his goodies to me.  Obviously, this
wasn't a concern for him, and he stood there in full view.  He was more
slender than I first thought, as I could actually count his ribs through
his skin, but I was more interested with what I saw below his waist.  I
must have appeared to be staring at this area now, but he didn't mention
anything about that or act any differently toward me, but I was just
mesmerized by what I saw.  My eyes were drawn toward his three-inch, limp,
circumcised cock, which had a small band of dark hairs running above it.
Eventually I regained my composure and was able to continue doing his
laundry.  As I dropped the lid on the washer and started to walk away,
Bryce asked me a question.

"Mr. Loomis, is there a towel for me to use in the bathroom?"  I stopped
and turned to answer him.

"First of all, you call me Kyle, not Mr. Loomis.  Second, there is a linen
closet to the right of the bathroom door and you can grab a towel from
there, before you go in.  There should be a new bar of soap in the soap
dish and a bottle of shampoo in the shower.  I've got a large hot-water
tank, so use all the hot water you want."

"Thanks, Kyle, and I'll be back down in a little while."

"Take your time.  You may want to stay in there and soak for a while.  I'll
fix us some dinner while you're gone.  I put chicken breasts in the frig
this morning.  Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah, that sounds fine."  Having said that, he disappeared up the stairs.
Fortunately I had three chicken breasts marinating during the day, as I
like leftover chicken for some reason.  I think it makes great sandwiches
and it always seems to taste better after it's been sitting around for a
while.  Anyway, I put the chicken in the oven, along with four baking
potatoes, and then I fixed some sliced carrots and made a tossed salad for
both of us.  When Bryce came back down stairs, the table was set, and the
food was nearly done.  I had also taken his clothes out of the washer,
after the first cycle, and separated them.  Then I put the whites through
again, while the others sat in the laundry basket, ready to become the next
load.  During that time, Bryce came back downstairs, not even bothering to
wrap the towel around him for modesty.

"Hmmm, smells good.  Are my clothes ready yet?"

"No, it will take a while yet, but I'll run up to my room and get a robe
for you."

"You don't have to, unless my being naked bothers you."

"No, that doesn't bother me, but I think you should wear something at the
table."  He seemed to accept my logic, so I went up to my room and brought
back a robe I had purchased as a backup.  I handed it to him and told him
he could keep it, and he just smiled at me as he tied the belt around his
waist.  Before I went in to serve the meal, I went back to the laundry room
and put Bryce's whites in the dryer, and then I put his colored clothes in
the washer.  I should be able to take the whites out of the dryer and put
the coloreds in by the time we had finished eating, so he would have
something to choose from later.  I went to the kitchen and started carrying
the food into the dining room, and Bryce came out to assist me.  I thanked
him for helping and we carried everything in and set it on the table.  Then
I gave him his choice of salad dressings, letting him select the one he
wanted, and then I went out to get that variety out of the refrigerator.
When I returned, I told him to help himself to whatever he wanted, but he
was a little reticent, so I ended up dishing everything out for him.  He
thanked me and then began to wolf the food down very quickly.

"Hey, slow down there, champ.  I'm not going to take it away."  He stopped,
looked up at me, and gave me a sheepish grin.

"Sorry, it's just a bad habit I've gotten into."  After that he took a more
leisurely approach to dining, taking time to actually taste the food before
swallowing it.  He stopped a little while later to tell me that it was very
good, and this helped start a conversation between us.

"Do you live here all alone?" he wanted to know.

"Yes, I do.  I've been too busy trying to establish my business to think
about a relationship.  Does that bother you?"

"No way.  I was just wondering why you had such a big place if you were the
only one to live here."

"I've often wondered that myself.  It all began the first time I saw it,
and I just fell in love with everything about it, so I bought it.  It
certainly wasn't because I needed this much room, but I have had some
parties here, for my managers and their families or for others involved
with my business.  It has worked out well and it's nice to have a house big
enough to do things like that when I want.  At other times I just kind of
bang around in this big old place."

Bryce hesitated a second before asking his next question, trying to decide
if he should be so bold.  Finally he decided he could, so he let fire.  "Do
you mind if I ask how old you are?"

I saw an opportunity here, so I took it.  "Not if you're willing tell me
things about yourself."

He hesitated, looking me squarely in the eyes, but eventually he gave me an
answer.  "I will, but I can't tell you all of it yet.  Maybe when I get to
know you better I'll tell you more."

"That sounds fair.  Well, I'm 31.  How old are you?"

"I'm twelve, but I'll turn thirteen in a couple of months."

"Twelve years old and you ran away from home.  Man, it must have been
really bad for you."  I wondered if I should have said that as soon as he
broke eye contact with me and looked down at the table.  After a slight
delay, he finally gave me an answer.

"It was, but I don't want to talk about that now."

"That's fine, but we'll need to come up with something so people won't
start wondering about you.  It's summer and you'd be out of school anyway,
so why don't we just tell people that you're my nephew, just in case they
ask.  You'd be my sister's son, to explain the difference in our last
names, and she sent you here to stay with me because she and your dad are
going through a very difficult divorce.  Can you remember all of that?"

"Sure.  No problem."

"That way you won't have to get into any of the real reasons you're here
and it will keep everyone else from getting curious.  Your parents' names
will be Sherry and Bob.  Okay?"

"Yeah, and thanks.  I appreciate that you're not making me tell you
everything now."

"Hey, I can understand why you wouldn't want to tell me these things, until
you know me better.  Actually, that's a pretty smart precaution.  We'll
just leave it at that for now, and you can fill me in on the rest when
you're ready."

"Thanks.  I already think I can trust you, but I just want to wait some
more."

"That's fine."  After that conversation, I told him to help himself to
seconds, if he wanted more.  Again he was reluctant, not wanting to take
advantage of my hospitality, so I split the final chicken breast with him,
gave him another baked potato, and then divided the remaining carrots
between our plates.  When we had both finished our meal, he announced that
he would do the dishes.  I understood that this was his attempt to pay me
back for everything, but I told him that wouldn't be necessary.  I told him
we just had to carry the dishes out to the kitchen, rinse them off in the
sink, and then put them in the dishwasher.  He said he'd do it all and,
seeing that it was important to him, I agreed, just going out with him to
make sure he did it correctly.  When that task was completed, I went to the
dryer and pulled out his whites, told him that he had underwear there that
he could put on, and he said he would in a while.  I threw the other load
into the dryer and started it, and then I went into the family room to join
him.

"Would you like some ice cream for desert?"

"Thank you, but not right now.  Maybe later," he told me, and then I made
an announcement to him.

"Look, after your other clothes are done, I want you to get dressed and
then I'm going to take you to the mall and buy you some new things.  I'm
not trying to make any judgments here, but your clothes have seen better
days and you'll need nicer things, if you're going to go places with me."

At first he looked shocked, then a bit embarrassed, as I told him my plans.
"I know my clothes aren't very good, but you don't have to buy me new ones
and pay for my things.  I can get a job and buy some clothes later."

"No, you'll need them sooner than that and I don't mind spending a little
money on you."

"Then I'll work for you, so I can pay you back or I can go look for another
job and then give you some money every time I get paid."

"Look, you don't have to worry about paying me back, and besides, there is
nothing you'll need to do around here.  I have a lady who comes here twice
a week to clean the house, I've hired a company that comes here once a week
to take care of the yard, and the pool guy comes by regularly, the number
of times depending upon the time of the season.  Besides, what are you
going to do to make money around here?"  After I said that, I got a sudden
feeling that I shouldn't have gone that far, because Bryce turned red and
looked away from me.  I wasn't sure why, but I knew that I had touched upon
a sensitive issue.  Fortunately the buzzer went off on the dryer about that
time, so I took him out, let him choose something to wear, and then I told
him to get dressed.  He took his robe off, tossed it on the dryer, and
began to dress right there.  While he did that, I checked some of the sizes
in his other garments, so I would have some idea about what sizes we'd need
to buy.  When he had finished getting dressed, we went back outside, got in
the car, and drove to the mall.

He got out of the car and started to head for the discount store, but I
called him back and took him to one of the places I liked to go.  He began
to argue with me almost immediately, telling me that he didn't mind wearing
the no-name brands, but I told him that he was living with me now and we
had to maintain the image that he was my nephew and that I was taking good
care of him.  He gave in, giving me a little smile in the process, and we
went directly to the boys' department.  A clerk came over immediately to
help us, and she asked what we were looking for.  I told her that I was
just going to buy my nephew a few things and we'd call her if we needed
help.  She said that she'd be at her counter and then she looked at Bryce
and told him, "You sure have a nice uncle."

Bryce smiled and looked at me, and then he turned back to the clerk and
told her, "Yep, Uncle Kyle is a really great guy."  The clerk left us after
that and Bryce followed me around the section, as we looked at various
things.  I picked out a couple pairs of dress slacks for him, some jeans,
and some shorts.  After that, I sent him to the changing room to try them
on.  "Aren't you coming in to let me know what you think, Uncle Kyle?"

"Well, I can, or you can just come out here and show them to me once you've
changed."

"Nah, that will take too long.  Why don't you just come in with me, and
then I can just keep trying things on without having to keep stopping."
That did sound like a good idea to me, so that's what we did.  After we
selected which pants and shorts we were going to buy for him, we placed
them on the sales counter and told the clerk that we'd be taking those.
Then we went into the next section, starting to look for some shirts.  The
clerk seemed delighted at how much we'd already chosen, leading me to
believe that she received some sort of commission on the sales, and then
she began to fold the pairs we'd chosen.  Bryce and I had picked out an
assortment of dress shirts and tee shirts, so I had him try those on too.
When we had selected what we wanted from that assortment, I took him over
to the underwear section.  I asked him which type he preferred, boxers,
briefs, boxer-briefs, or bikinis, and I added that he could buy whatever he
wanted.  I knew that he was currently wearing briefs, but that might not be
by choice.  It might just be that he had to wear whatever was purchased for
him.

"What do you think I should get, Uncle Kyle?"

"Well, that depends on what you're most comfortable in."

"But what would you rather see me in?"  I thought this was kind of an odd
question, but I thought that he probably just wanted to please me, because
I was doing all of this for him.  "Well, I think the bikini briefs are the
sexiest, but the regular briefs will do just fine," I suggested.

He gave me an evil grin and went over to the section where the bikini
briefs were located, starting to rummage through them.  "Is there any color
that you'd prefer?" he wanted to know.

"No, just surprise me.  Get a dozen pairs for now."

"Are you sure?  That seems like a lot."

"Yes, I'm sure.  It's better to have extra than not enough."  He picked out
the pairs he wanted, then we grabbed some A-line undershirts for him, and
then we selected a variety of socks, both colored and white.  We took
everything up to the clerk, who gave us a strange look, and then she asked
us a question.  "I thought you said you were going to get a few things?"

"Well, we got carried away," I told her, "but he can always use them.
Besides, how often do I get to spoil my nephew?"

She giggled, Bryce smiled, and I felt like a million bucks.  Bryce started
to move toward the exit when I called him back.  "Hey, hold on there,
champ.  We still need to go back to the shoe department and get something
for your feet.  You can pick out a pair of dress shoes and a pair of
athletic shoes, before we head back home."

"Are you really sure you want to spend this much on me?  You've bought more
for me already than I usually get all year."

"I'm sure, or I wouldn't have told you we were going to do it.  Stop
questioning everything I do and let's just go back and pick those things
out for you."

"Okay.  Whatever you say, Uncle Kyle."  He gave me that devilish grin
again, and we made our way back to where the shoes were located.  He picked
out a pair of loafers and a mid-range pair of athletic shoes, and I made
him buy an extra pair of laces for them at the same time.  On the way up to
pay for them, I saw a display of those rubber beach sandals, so I made him
select one of those too.  I wasn't planning to go to the beach, but they'd
be good for around the house and when he went out to use the pool.  That
reminded me, Bryce would probably also need a bathing suit.  I took him
back to the boys' department and he began to look at what they had.  Before
long he was holding up a pair of black Speedos, with red trim, asking me
what I thought of them.  I told him they looked great, if that's what he
wanted, and he said he thought they would do just fine. After we paid for
the rest of our selections, we made our way back to the exit, loaded
everything into the Lexus, and then I drove back home.  All the way back he
kept thanking me for buying him so much, raving about everything we had
purchased, and telling me that he couldn't believe I was doing all this for
him.  After we pulled into the driveway and parked the car, I told him to
take everything up to his room and put it away, and then he could come back
down so we could have some ice cream.  After that, we'd spend the rest of
the evening watching television or doing whatever else he wanted to do.  He
was gone about five minutes before he came bounding back down the stairs,
asking me if I had any extra hangers.  I told him that I did, apologized
for forgetting to give him some, and then I took him up to my room to find
the extra hangers.  This was the first time he had been in my bedroom, and
he made sure he checked everything out.

"Man, this is neat really.  You've got a huge bed, a big TV, a great
stereo, a huge closet, and your own bathroom."  I was amazed at his
enthusiasm about everything, because I didn't think it was all that
special, but I would find out later that it certainly was for him.  He had
lived in a small two-bedroom apartment, with a single bath, and that whole
apartment would have fit nicely into a small corner of my home.  I guess
that I sometimes take too much for granted, forgetting how truly fortunate
I am.  Suddenly this young man was giving me a whole new appreciation for
life and reminding me how good a life I really had.  I was appreciative for
this new insight he was giving me, and I knew that I had to help him
through his situation the best I could.  I had no idea of how I was going
to do that yet, because I probably could get into trouble for just having
him here, but with my money and what it could buy, I was sure I could
figure something out, sooner or later.  After I gave him the hangers and
saw how carefully he put everything away, we went back downstairs.  I went
to the kitchen and scooped out two bowls of ice cream, telling him to go
into the family room to pick out what he wanted to see or do until bedtime.
He soon discovered a movie on one of the pay stations, and he told me that
he wanted to watch that, as I handed him his dish.  I sat in my chair, a
very comfortable recliner that I love, and he sat on the sofa.  We ate our
ice cream and set our bowls on the coffee table when we were done, and then
Bryce sprawled out on the sofa, laying his head on one of the throw
pillows.

We watched the movie, but I could see Bryce was getting pretty sleepy, as
he was having trouble staying awake at the very end.  When the movie ended,
I told him it was time to go to bed, and I walked behind him as we made our
way to our rooms, making sure he didn't fall backward and tumble down the
stairs.  He was traveling on a pair of shaky legs, and it was obvious that
he wasn't totally with it.  Noticing this, I thought it best to take this
small precaution.  When he reached the landing at the top, I guided him
toward his bathroom, while I went and got him a toothbrush and a tube of
toothpaste to use.  I always have extras on-hand in my room, so I dug into
my stash, and he went in and brushed and used the toilet.  When he finally
staggered down to his room, he stripped down to his underwear and slid into
bed.  As I went to close his door, when I was leaving the room, I heard a
weak, "Good night, Uncle Kyle.  I'll see you in the morning."

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