Date: Fri, 24 Dec 2004 09:42:43 -0500
From: Herb Cat <herb_cat@lycos.com>
Subject: Wayne the Wrestler Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This story is fiction. I made it all up. The people in the
story aren't real people. I made them up. The things that happen in the
story didn't really happen. I made them up too.

I am personally repulsed by the idea that grown men would manipulate the
emotions of vulnerable young children for their own sexual gratification.
However, as a writer I challenge myself to "get inside the mind" of my
characters. In Wayne the Wrestler, I have attempted to present the
blossoming relationship between a 30-year-old man and a 12-year-old boy. In
doing so, I have tried to present both characters sympathetically. However,
this story should not be construed as an endorsement either of pedophilia
or of its insidious methods.

I would appreciate any responses, positive or negative.

Wayne the Wrestler - Chapter 1

When 12-year old Wayne grabbed his skateboard and ran out the door, he had
no idea that his entire life was going to change that hot August
afternoon. He knew his friends were either at summer camp or on family
trips, so he spent about an hour skating around the neighborhood, all by
himself. His mom couldn't afford to send him to camp or go on a trip
somewhere. Wayne was still small for for his age, about the shortest kid in
sixth grade last year; even some of the fourth graders were bigger than he
was. His little seventyfive pound body showed no signs of pubescence yet,
but he was starting to get wet dreams and he thought he was sweating a lot
more than he used to, especially this day.

As he passed one big two story house, he heard someone calling from the
front walk. "Hey, kid, isn't it kind of hot today for that?"

Wayne stopped, smiled, and replied, "Yeah, I know. I'm getting all sweaty,
Mister."

"You want a soda to cool off? I got some in the fridge."

"Gee, thanks!" And Wayne followed the man inside.

They went into the kitchen and the man gave him the soda he promised. It
tasted real cold.  Wayne held the can against his forehead. Even inside the
man's house, it seemed just as hot as outside. The man was dressed in khaki
shorts and a golf shirt. No shoes. Wayne had on his jeans, sneakers, and a
white T that was soaked in perspiration. Wayne quickly drank the whole can.

"I bet you could use another."

"Shit, yes, Mister. Oh, excuse my mouth."

"Don't worry about it. In my house you can say `shit' all you want."

"Really? At home, Momma says she doesn't want to hear me say `shit'. Says
she'll wash my mouth out with soap. But she uses it all the time when she
talks to her boy friend. That and other words."

"Like what?"

"You know, like `dick' and `piss.' Stuff like that."

"Well, I don't care what words you use here, kid. You can even say `Fuck!'"

"Really?"

"Fuck, yes!" and they both started laughing. "I like you, kid. I'm
Mr. Raven. What's your name?"

"Wayne."

"Well, put it there, Wayne." Mr. Raven held out his huge strong hand which
was soon engulfing Wayne's little hand. Wayne guessed that Mr. Raven was
about as old as his cousin, almost thirty.

When Wayne noticed a Nintendo on the kitchen counter, the man asked if he
knew how to play. "Fuck, yes," Wayne said, relishing his new lexical
freedom. He grabbed it and started whipping his thumbs around on the
controls. For the next half hour or so, they passed it back and forth
between them, but Mr. Raven could never match Wayne's score.

"You sure are good at that. You play other games, too?"

"Well, I like to play baseball with my friends, and we play card games, and
sometimes we wrestle. But I don't win when we wrestle. I'm too little."

"Hey, kid. You don't need to be big to win in wrestling. You just have to
be quick, and smart."

"Fuck, really?"

"Yep. I was on the wrestling team in college and I got beat lots of times
by a short guy who was quicker and smarter than me."

"Wow. Well, I'm pretty quick. And I'm real smart too."

"Really?"

"Fuck, yes. All my teachers say I learn real quick."

"Did you ever take wrestling lessons?"

"No, Momma doesn't like me to wrestle. She thinks I'll become a bully."

"I could teach you some wrestling moves if you want. Would you like that?"

"Fuck, yes."

"I know some other games I could teach you too. Would you like that?"

"Fuck, yes."

Just then Mr. Raven looked out the window and shouted, "Oh, Shit." Wayne
jumped up to look. It was a big greyhound making a load on the lawn.
"That's the neighbor's dog. He's always jumping the fence to do his crap
over here. C'mon, help me catch him." Wayne looked at Mr. Raven. "Don't
worry, he's friendly, just playful."

Mr. Raven grabbed a rope and Wayne followed him out into the yard. They
chased the dog around and around, trying to get it cornered between the
fence and the shed. They'd almost have him trapped and he'd break free
again. Both Wayne and Mr. Raven were laughing. But suddenly Wayne slipped
and fell right on the load, getting dog do on his shirt, jeans and bare
arms. "Oh, shit," they both said at once. "Forget the fuckin dog. C'mon,
Tim. i'll get you cleaned up." Mr. Raven turned on the hose and washed the
worst of it off, then he led Wayne back inside to the laundry room and told
him to take off all his clothes. Mr. Raven began filling the machine. "And
I think you could use a shower. You don't want to be smelling like dogshit
when you get home." Wayne grinned. He took off his tighty whities and
completely naked followed Mr. Raven upstairs, through his bedroom to the
bathroom. He got in the shower and Mr. Raven stood right there talking to
him, as he bathed. He told him after his shower, he was going to teach him
the Slave Game. That sounded like fun.

Wayne turned off the water and Mr. Raven handed him a huge towel. "You get
dried off. I'm going to make sure that dog went home and take care of your
clothes. Just wait here `til I get back."

Wayne got all dried and stood there waiting like he was told. But when
Mr. Raven returned he didn't bring Wayne's clothes. "OK, here are the rules
for the Slave Game. You are the slave boy. You do whatever I tell you and
if you do it right, every five minutes you can get one item of clothing
back."

Wayne dropped his jaw, "Really?"

"Yeah, those are the rules. It'll be fun. You ready?"

"Fuck, yes."

"OK, I'm checking my watch. Here we go."

"Scratch your ass, slave boy." Wayne giggled and scratched his naked little
white ass.

"Jump up and down on my bed, slave boy." Wayne liked that. His momma didn't
let him jump on the bed at home.

"Go get me a beer from the fridge, slave boy." Wayne grinned and ran bare
assed through the house and got the beer.

"Now bend over, and without bending your knees, grab your ankles. Can you
do that, slave boy?"

"Fuck, yes."

Mr. Raven walked all around him as little Wayne held this position.

"OK, come with me back to the kitchen, slave boy."

"Now get on the table there and stand on one foot, slave boy." Wayne got up
on the table and held one leg up.

"OK, that's the first five minutes, slave boy. So now I reward you with
your first item of clothing." Mr. Raven stepped into the laundry room and
brought Wayne one sock, still warm from the dryer.

Wayne giggled. "I thought you were gonna give me my undies." He put on the
sock and waited. This was the best game he'd ever played, the most fun he'd
ever had.

For the next five minutes, Mr. Raven had him run up the stairs, slide down
the bannister, move like a monkey, then like an elephant, do somersaults
and cartwheels in the living room, and finally Mr. Raven laid on the floor
and had Wayne jump back and forth over his face. As a reward, Wayne got one
sneaker.

"Now run around the back yard and come back here, slave boy."

"You mean naked?"

"You aren't naked. You have one shoe and sock on, slave boy." Wayne giggled
and ran outside, one leg longer than the other. He kept way clear of the
pile of dogshit and came back inside panting.

"You're tired, slave boy. Sit here on Mr. Raven's lap." Wayne sat and let
Mr. Raven put his big warm arm around him and pet his head. Wayne's father
had left him when he was still a baby. During the school year, his mom
worked all day in the accounting department of a school district about half
an hour from home so Wayne was a latchkey kid. Wayne felt good sitting with
this man who took the time to hold him and hug him. They just sat for the
rest of the five minutes and Wayne got a second sock.

"Now, lay on the couch, slave boy." Wayne laid down. Mr. Raven positioned
his head on a cushion, his arms at his side, and his legs slightly
apart. "Are you comfortable, slave boy?"  Wayne nodded. "Good, now close
your eyes and do not move for five whole minutes, slave boy." This wasn't
easy. 12-year old Wayne found it hard to ever stay still. He didn't know
what Mr. Raven was doing. He wanted to peek, but more than that he wanted
to play the game, so he forced himself to lay still with his eyes clenched
shut. When the time was up, he opened his eyes and was rewarded with his
other sneaker.

While he was putting it on, Mr. Raven was taking off his shirt. "Now I'm
hot, slave boy." Mr.  Raven dropped his khakis and he had no underpants
on. Now Mr. Raven was the naked one. "You're gonna have to wait five
minutes to get your clothes back," said Wayne. They both laughed. Wayne
watched Mr. Raven's hairy abs jiggle when he laughed. His eyes followed the
central trail of hair from his navel down to his pubes where Wayne saw a
huge dense dark patch of fur and a long thick cock.

"Wow, you sure are big."

Mr. Raven smiled. "Thank you, slave boy." He put on some music and they
danced for five minutes. A silly dance with lots of leg spreading and arm
waving. Then Wayne got his shirt, but Mr. Raven stayed naked.

"Remember the first order I gave you, slave boy?"

Wayne thought. The game was so much fun, he had to really think hard back
to the beginning. "Oh, yeah," he giggled, "you ordered me to scratch my
ass."

"OK. now I order you to scratch my ass, slave boy." Mr. Raven turned his
ass toward Wayne and used his big muscular hands to pull his buttocks
apart. Wayne reached in and began scratching with his tiny little
fingernails. Wayne pretty much kept his hand in one position and Mr. Raven
moved around so different things got scratched, first one cheek, then the
other, then the inside of each thigh. Then Mr. Raven spread his legs and
Wayne was scratching behind his balls. After five minutes, Mr. Raven gave
him his jeans, but since he didn't have his undies yet he couldn't put them
on anyway.

"You keep looking at my dick, slave boy."

"Sorry, I just never saw one so big. How big is it?"

Mr. Raven got a ruler.  "Measure it, slave boy." Wayne held the ruler next
to the furry patch and gently pulled the circumcised dickhead up to the
ruler and announced, "Wow, four inches."

"You can make it bigger, slave boy."

"I can, really? Fuck, how?"

"Take your hands and wrap them around it, slave boy. . . Yeah, like
that. Now slide them up and down real slow. Very good, slave boy. You learn
things quick."

"That's what my teachers say. Am I doing it right?"

"That's perfect. Look, see, it's getting bigger." Wayne stared. Sure
enough, Mr. Raven's dick was growing. And it felt harder in his little
hands. "Now, hold it a little tighter and move it a little faster." Wayne
obeyed. He really liked this game now. Eventually, Mr. Raven put his hand
on Wayne's head and whispered, "OK, slave boy, get the ruler again." Wayne
measured 7 and one fourth inches.

"Wow, Fuck, that is huge."

"Thanks to you, slave boy." Mr. Raven smiled and handed Wayne his
undies. Wayne got dressed and then said, "This is the most fun I've ever
had, Mr. Raven. Can we do it again?"

"Sure, Wayne, I liked the game too. Why don't you come over here next
Wednesday. I need time to think of all kinds of new orders."

"Yeah, that'll be great! I can't wait."

"Oh, and Wayne, there's one more rule to this game."

"What's that?"

"You can't tell anybody else about it, OK?"

"Fuck, yes. I'm real good at keeping secrets. Goodbye, Mr. Raven. See you
next Wednesday."

In chapter 2, Wayne returns and plays the same games again but also learns
new things.  He strips for Raven and later witnesses an ejaculation.