Date: Thu, 3 Oct 2013 11:35:34 -0400
From: Eff Del <nolitimere156@gmail.com>
Subject: Young-But Daily Growing-Part 12

Young, but Daily Growing

By Eff Del



Often, the most joy is found in the simplest things.

The most profound pleasure is frequently experienced in the most common
occurrences.

The greatest satisfaction can come from something so simple that it is
habitually overlooked.



I followed Sean's bouncing naked little ass into the bathroom making my
first stop the toilet for my much needed morning piss.



"The monster isn't with me this morning- thank God for that." I thought to
myself



Sean was standing by the vanity rather dramatically placing my shaving gear
on the counter where it was all VERY obvious.



I raised an eyebrow in a query and he said;



"I just wanna make sure you shave this mornin' Eric. Your chin was so
scratchy last night that it was no fun cuddling."



I nodded my head in grave acquiescence. As my eyes drank in the sight of
him... delightfully naked and displayed just for me.



As had become our routine, I adjusted the shower while he activated the
sound system.

 He had quickly learned not just how to turn the unit on but also how to
access and select from the large data base of music stored on the hard
drive.

"He's a kid." I'd thought to myself "They're born knowing how to do that
stuff these days."



Since our first shower and Sean's amazing display of music knowledge, it
had become part of our morning ritual to take turns selecting the  "shower
song" and for the other person to guess what it was. We were each perfect
so far.



"Too easy peezy today little man!" I said as he jumped up on me wrapping
his arms around my neck and his legs around my waist...leaving me the
"terrible duty" of having to cup his little butt in my hands as I walked us
into the steaming water.



"That's an oldie but real goodie...'Mustang Sally' and THAT is Mr. Wilson
Pickett himself singing",

 I put him down and he was immediately dancing under the water singing
along with the recording.



He did a dramatic little turn- legs spread and hips swaying in time to the
beat as he sang;



"All you wanna do is ride aroun Sallaaaaay

     Ride Sallaay ride!

 All you wanna do is ride aroun Sallaaay

     Ride Sallaay ride..."



He faded his singing along with the recording and I clapped in legitimate
appreciation of his performance.

He took one of his cute little bows and flashed a brilliant "Sean smile".



"The Professor and Andy are perfect on the gun range but you an me are
perfect with our shower music!" he said while I was soaping down his belly
and his adorable little 2 1/2 inch cock.



As we were rinsing off under the multi-direction sprays I casually brought
up something that had been on my mind;



"Hey little man, I was thinking.  Later on after the try-outs, what would
you think about letting me take some pictures of you in my studio?"



"You have a studio?" he asked looking up at me.



"Yep. I sure do. A few years ago I actually thought that I'd like to be a
professional photographer and-I'm not bragging mind you but I'm not bad.
I've even had some of my stuff exhibited at a couple of galleries."



From the look on his face, it was obvious that he didn't fully understand
what in the heck I was talking about. "I keep forgetting he's only 11 years
old." I thought to myself "And raised in the isolation of the NEST to boot."



"Anyway..." I continued hoping to erase the confusion, "Yes, I've got a
studio...a really good one and I want to take some photos of you. OK?"



"Kay!" he said walking out of the spray and squeezing water from his
beautiful black hair. "That sounds like it'll be fun Eric!"



Martha was back on duty in the kitchen when we descended the stairs for
breakfast.

After her morning hugs and kisses from Sean, she walked him to the table
and said;



"Now darlin', this morning I'm going to have you try eggs in another
different way. If you don't like them I won't be upset and I'll fix you
something else in a flash. Is that all right?"



"Mrs. Edwards, I don't think you could cook ANYTHING I wouldn't like...
honest."

She looked down at him with a warm smile and said;



"Well this is a little different way to serve eggs and a lot of people
don't enjoy them this way but...I promised we'd try out all the styles.
This-"she said as she placed a plate in front of the now curious boy, "Is
called a `soft boiled' egg"



I almost spit out a mouthful of coffee as I observed the look of total
dismay and confusion on his face as he looked down at his plate.



In the center of the dish stood an egg cup holding what to the uninformed
eye appeared to be an intact whole egg...just as it might have dropped out of
the chicken not so very long ago.

 Stacked attractively on both sides of the egg cup were the
"soldiers"...buttered toast cut into handy strips for dipping into the soft
runny yolk.



Poor Sean...if he had been initially confused when confronted with the "eggs
over easy" a couple of days ago, he was totally stymied by the dilemma
before him this morning.



Before moving to rescue him from his predicament, I gave Martha a "look".
She countered with one of her own.

Martha knew very well that I really didn't care for soft boiled eggs.  Not
that they didn't actually taste good, it was just that I considered them
too "fussy" and way too much work for the satisfaction they eventually
yielded.



"Observe." I said to Sean in my best silly scholarly voice.  Raising my
knife in a melodramatic fashion, I tapped around the top of the shell
briskly with the flat edge of the blade.



Having done that, I used both knife and spoon to carefully remove the
shattered bits of shell from the top of the egg.



With the sharper edge of the knife, I sliced off the very top of the egg
revealing the runny interior.

I scooped out a small mouthful with my spoon and then, proceeded to my
favorite part – dipping one of the strips of buttered toast into the almost
liquid yolk.



As I raised the yummy morsel to my lips, I waggled my eyebrows at Sean who
began to giggle.



I continued to eat while I watched the boy attempt to mimic the procedure I
had just demonstrated.

He did very well but I noticed he was having trouble removing some of the
shattered bits of shell with his knife and spoon.



I leaned across the table and said in a stage whisper;



"You're only eleven...you can use your fingers."

He broke into a wide appreciative grin and proceeded to pick the remaining
shell from his egg and move on to opening and enjoying.



As I was watching the whole complicated procedure, I couldn't help but
smile.



Since my childhood, when soft boiled eggs were served I always had a memory
flash about something I'd read in Jonathan Swift's "Gulliver's Travels".



 In that book, in Lilliput; the island of tiny people, one of the major
points of political faction concerned which end of a soft boiled egg was
the proper end to open...big end or little end.

The Lilliputians had actually fought wars and committed mayhem over this
issue.



I'd noted long ago that Martha always presented them little end up...she was
a staunch "little ender". I'd never decided if I thought Jonathan Swift
would approve. It was a little mental game I couldn't help playing every
time the dreaded egg cups came out.



"Did you like that Darlin'?" Martha asked Sean as she removed his plate
from in front of him.



"They were very good..." I could see his young mind working hard to be
politically correct...

"but...I think they were a lot of work to eat."



"Good boy! Brilliant Boy! Wonderful boy!" I cheered silently.



Martha knew...she always did. Within moments a plate stacked high with
pancakes appeared before a grateful Sean who attacked them with gusto.



With breakfast over and hugs and kisses exchanged, we headed back upstairs
to pack a kit for him to bring to the tryouts. I was already getting
nervous for him.



In his gym bag we placed the black speedo (my choice) two pair of goggles,
nubby rubber soled flip-flops, swimmer's cap, a set of dark blue sweats and
an oversized hoodie just for good measure.

As an afterthought I tossed in a bar of soap and a small bottle of shampoo
even though I knew that like towels, these would be provided by the club in
the locker room.



I handed him his laminated membership card.



"Ready to go?" I asked hoping that I didn't sound apprehensive.



"Yep!" he said with a smile. He didn't seem nervous at all.

"Are we going to take the Red Cat?" his face looked at me hopefully.



I smiled at that...he'd picked up on my nickname for the sexy little Jaguar
quickly.



"How else would Aquaman get to swim team tryouts?" I said.



With a grin so big that it could have lit up the room, he quickly ducked
into his closet and returned with his leather jacket and his cap.



I hugged him to me with one arm over his shoulders as we headed down to the
elevator stopping quickly at my room to retrieve my matching driving
outfit.



Everyone in the household obviously knew where we were going. Martha
stepped out of the kitchen to hug him and wish him luck.

Walter was waiting by the door to shake his hand and speak a word of
encouragement.

"Try your best Master Sean. That's all that you can do and it's all that
anyone can expect. I know you'll make us all proud."



In the garage, John was pretending to be busy down by the Jaguar.



"Good luck Sean...give em hell!"...he looked quickly at me and I just smiled.



"Actually, meant give em HECK...anyhow, go get em." He was pumping Sean's
hand vigorously and smiling so broadly I was afraid he might break his jaw.



A few minutes later, we were through the gate and the little red roadster
was tearing down the open road. I was shifting and accelerating in such a
way as to make the tuned exhaust scream and roar...to the total delight of my
young passenger.



As we were walking across the parking lot into the big clubhouse I was
talking to Sean;



"Now, they're having tryouts for all age groups this entire week but today
is the first day and all of the best swimmers will be here. If you're going
to shine, today's the day to do it." I hugged him tightly and he nodded his
head silently.



"After we register and get you set up with a locker and stuff, I won't be
able to stay with you. I've got to go up in the stands so you'll be all by
yourself is that OK with you?"



He smiled up at my and squeezed my arm as if to offer ME reassurance.



"Don't be nervous Eric, I've done these lots of times before you just
promise me you'll keep watchin and that you'll cheer and stuff OK?"



"OK." I couldn't stop a small tear from forming so I quickly wiped it away
while pretending to scratch the bridge of my nose.

"Well, they don't allow cheering at tryouts but you know I'll be watching."



We sat at a small table filling out the registration form. He was sitting
by my side wiggling in his chair, his little leg bouncing delightfully
against mine.



"Ok, which events do you want to compete in Sean?"



"All of them."



"No, I mean which strokes do you think you're best at and want to try out
for?"



"All of them."



I looked over at him and cocked an eyebrow. He just grinned and nodded
vigorously.



I'd been trying not to make comparisons since that horrible night in the
music room, but just now, I couldn't help it. Kyle had been just like this-
competing in each of the strokes ignoring how difficult that was supposed
to be.



Kyle not only talked the talk, he also walked the walk delivering superbly
every time.

In my heart I knew that Sean would be the same.



"OK Aquaman." I winked at him and completed the form.

 We both walked over to get him registered.



Clay Riorden was a tall well-built man with iron grey hair. He had been
overseeing the club swim teams since I was a youngster. He of course,
recognized me at once and took the form from me as I introduced Sean as my
ward.



He scrutinized the document I'd just handed him and glance quickly again at
Sean.



"Ambitious young man eh?" he looked at both of us. "Must run in the
family." He smiled.



Sean didn't understand what he was referring to and I chose not to correct
Clay's mistaken impression that Sean was related,

 Clay handed Sean his registration tags and we headed off to the locker
room.



Pointing to an empty locker I said to Sean;

"Get changed and put your stuff in there. I'll check out this schedule and
figure out what's happening and when."

I glanced around the locker room it was filled with pre-teen boys in
various states of undress and my accessing eye took them all in deciding
that none surpassed the beauty of my special boy.



He quickly stripped down and hung his street clothes up in the locker. I
managed one quick glimpse of his little ass before the small black swim
suit was up and (barely) covering him.

He looked outrageously sexy in it.  I felt my dick in my pants get hard as
a rock and thought to myself that this was going to be a difficult morning
in that regard.



I suggested that Sean like most of the other boys in the locker room had
done, put on his sweat suit to prevent his muscles from getting cramped in
the cool air, after he had done so, I pinned his registration tags to the
jacket and noticed that they were ushering the boy's out into the pool area.



I hugged him tight and sneaked a quick kiss to his forehead.

"Good luck Bucko. I'll be out there pulling for you."



I wandered out the same door I'd come in and found myself a seat on the
bleachers.



I hadn't said anything to Sean, but this was going to be rough. There was a
mere 15 minutes between events...not much rest for a little guy who was
intending to swim it all.



Clay addressed the swimmers and spectators explaining that today and the
rest of the week, each of the basic strokes would be swum once at 100
meters and once at 200 meters. From those runs the top 3 swimmers in each
category would wind up being invited to participate on the team with
individual events being determined by the coaches after a week of practice
and evaluation.



The first trial was 100 meter free style. Sean was in the first heat (there
would be four heats in this event I learned). He had drawn lane 3 in the 8
lane set up. I watched as he shucked off his sweats and pulled on his swim
cap and goggles.



He mounted his starting block and stood hunched over the water shaking and
flapping his arms to loosen up. He looked so poised and professional it
made my heart flip.



I took a quick look at the other 7 boys.

My first assessment was that they all had damned cute little asses.

My second thought was this being an 11-12 year old category, there was a
noticeable difference in size and physical development among them.



 Sean was certainly not the smallest of the eight but he wasn't close to
being the biggest either.



My attention was quickly drawn to the boy on lane 7. He was the biggest of
the kids in this heat. My guess was that he was about 5 feet three inches
tall.  He'd obviously entered puberty because not only was he taller but
his shoulders were broader and his pecs were more developed.

"That's trouble." I thought to myself.



The horn sounded and all eight boys were off their blocks and into the
water.

The 100 meter freestyle is a very fast race in any age group. The boys all
seemed evenly matched for about the first ¾ of a lap and then three
swimmers began to pull away; Sean, the boy in lane 7 and the boy in lane 5
who I hadn't paid much attention to at the start of the race.



They looked to be dead even as they went under and hit the wall for the
turn.



Lane 7 was first up followed closely by Sean. The boy in lane 5 seemed to
have lost some steam because he was dropping behind...even saying that
though, these three were a quarter way into their second lap before the
rest of the group had hit the wall to turn.



Into the final 20 meters it was a two person race. The boy in lane 7 was
holding his lead but Sean was swimming madly and closing the gap rapidly.

Lane 7 touched the wall first with Sean just a second or two behind him.

I went quietly nuts with excitement.



Two things about these trials that were strictly enforced; the swimmer's
times were kept secret and excessive demonstration by spectators was
forbidden. I intended to play by the rules...I wasn't going to embarrass my
little boy.



I watched the next heats thinking to myself that this gave Sean more rest
than I'd initially anticipated. There were some good swimmers in these but
none that I felt posed any great threat to Sean.



They were setting up swimmers for the 200 meter Freestyle. There would only
be three heats for this event and Sean had been placed in the second one.

I watched the first heat with only minimal interest after I'd noticed that
the bigger kid who'd beaten Sean in the 100 meter wasn't in it.



Shortly they called the swimmers for the second heat. Sean took his place
in lane 5 and I watched as the bigger boy who's beaten Sean last time
stepped up onto the block for lane 6.



"This could be very interesting." I thought to myself.  I did take a quick
moment to scan all 8 attractive little butts packed tightly into their
miniscule speedos finishing my scrutiny just as the horn sounded.



The eight splashes were almost simultaneous as they began their first lap
pretty much all evenly spaced. By the first turn however it was already a
four man race and one of those was Sean another being the kid in lane 6.  I
watched with interest as both boys stroked evenly... seemingly settled into a
comfortable rhythm.



By the second turn the other two swimmers were beginning to fade and the
rest of the group were hopelessly behind.

As they approached the wall for the third turn it was totally a 2 man race.



They went under for the kick and this time Sean was up first his arms
whipping madly as they cut through the water.  The bigger boy in lane 6 was
obviously putting forth his maximum effort but Sean was steadily pulling
away from him...he was moving rhythmically like a little swimming machine...I
was on my feet pounding my fists into my thighs...Sean continued to increase
his lead finally touching the wall a full body length ahead!



I let out a loud whoop and flung my fist into the air... drawing several
dirty looks in my direction.



"Fuck `em!" I thought to myself as I laughed (silently) with pride and
joy.



The rest of the morning was astonishing. The bigger boy who'd beaten Sean
in that first heat was apparently only proficient in free style as he
didn't compete in any of the other strokes.



Sean's performance continued to be extraordinary as he not only swam the
remaining six trials...he won most of his heats coming in third (his worst
finish) in the 200 meter breast stroke which was also the last heat of the
day for him. I suspected that weariness had finally begun to catch up with
him.



We spectators were told that after the boys had showered and dressed Clay
wanted to talk to them for a few minutes and we should meet them out in the
parking lot when they were finished.



I started walking slowly to the exit when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I
turned and found myself looking into Clay Riorden's hazel eyes. He had a
strange look; one that I couldn't read.



I watched as he swallowed hard a couple of times and finally spoke;



"You know the last time something like this happened...it was seven years
ago."

 To my surprise I realized there were tears forming in his eyes.

"It was Kyle that time Eric. This is so..." He trailed off and just
squeezed my shoulder and nodded his head.



He turned abruptly and walked away down toward the door to the locker room.



It was only just beginning to register with me as I sat in the car watching
the front door. I missed not having been able to run down and hug him to
share in the joy of his victory...but then I realized that these were his
moments not mine.



He emerged from the building surrounded by a group of other kids all of
them talking and giggling...animated as only 11 and 12 year old boys can be.



They were excited and self-involved- laughing and jumping as they spoke.
They each  at some point took an opportunity to touch him as they spoke. He
was the center of the grouping and all of the action moved around him.



I shook my head slowly.  This was almost like watching the end of the
original soccer game video.  They flocked to him.  He attracts them...they
just want to be near him.



I had moved the car but it wasn't very hard for him to spot. I watched him
point to it and then move his hand casually in its direction as he shared
some sort of "Sean wisdom" with his new mates.

They all looked and nodded appreciatively.  Sean waved at me. Turning to
the group surrounding him he said something and they all hi fived each
other and broke off to go their separate ways.



He was beaming. There was no mistaking the glorious happiness he was
feeling. He literally floated into the car.



"Eric, guess what?" he said excitedly tugging at my sleeve to make certain
he had my full attention.

"Coach Riorden says we're not supposed to tell yet... but us seven guys are
definitely on the team for sure!"



Making a not so quantum mental leap, I concluded that "us seven guys" was
Sean and the group of boys he'd just walked out of the building with.



"You were just great today Sean." I said reaching over to ruffle his hair
and then carefully replacing his cap.

"Those two freestyle races were so exciting you had me holding my breath."



"Yeah Brandon is a great swimmer... I'm pretty sure he's be on the team
too...Coach just didn't say yet."



"But...know what Eric?" I looked at him as if to say I didn't know what.

"I'm better than him even if he is bigger. I could of took him that first
race but I made a bad turn at the wall that was dumb...won't happen no more."



I'd pretty much given up on correcting his grammar when he was excited
especially after noticing that he spoke very well when he was calm...or at
least as calm as Sean could be.



"So-let's celebrate over lunch. Burgers or burritos?"



He didn't even pause to think about it.



"Buuuuuuuurrrittos!" he shouted.



Very soon we were chowing down at Cocina Alfredo and neither one of us
could stop smiling.



 I just sat listening as between mouthfuls; Sean replayed every heat he had
swum this morning.

  I was impressed at how much actual thought and strategizing he had put
into each race...until I remembered a certain chess match that I seemed to be
losing back home. This kid thought about everything he did.



I led Sean down the hall and up the stairs in a section of the house that
he hadn't been in before.



Opening the door we walked into my studio. It occupied most of the top
floor of one of the newer small wings that had been added to the complex by
my father.



I had it set up to be as flexible and adaptable as possible. It was mostly
open floor space with lighting fixtures scattered around rather
haphazardly" a few props and miscellaneous furniture mostly stacked and
scattered.



On the far long wall was a wooden workbench with several cabinets mounted
above it. Two large skylights in the roof could be opened or blocked out
depending upon how much ambient light I desired in the room.



I walked over to the work table and ensured my favorite photography "toy"
was charged. It was my fabulous Nikon D4 digital SLR.

After giving things some thought I selected a Nikkor 16-85 mm lens and
clicked it in place.



With the camera slung around my neck, I lowered the all-white back drop
down from its reel near the ceiling and placed a simple wooden stool in
front of it.



"Sit up here Sean. Keep your jacket and cap on." I instructed.



As he perched on the stool I hurriedly arraigned a few light fixtures to
different heights and angles constantly checking through my camera lens.



When I was satisfied I began walking around him clicking off pictures.



"Tell me all about riding in the red cat Sean" I encouraged and as he began
to speak, his face became more animated and the photos I clicked became
more alive. I constantly worked the zoom on the lens in and out to change
perspective.

After a long series of photos, I took his cap and jacket from him and
captured a series of him sitting on the stool in his jeans and tee shirt.



I then had him get down from the stool and move around in front of the back
drop while I snapped like mad.



Happy with what I'd done so far, I  casually asked him to undress.

He broke into a mischievous grin.



"Are you gonna take naked pictures of me?"



"I am if you'll stop talking and get your clothes off." I answered with a
smile.



"Eric...you're the BEST fun!" he giggled as he pulled his shirt over his head
and off. "This kid loves being naked" I decided.



Once he was nude, I had him stand in place while I readjusted some of the
lighting.



"Just move around Sean. Talk to me...tell me all about the swimming today
while you're moving."



I snapped off about 100 pictures and then I had an idea. I set the camera
to its "action" mode which allowed me to shoot 10 frames per second at a
single click.



"Sing `Mustang Sally' for me Sean."



He gave me a cute puzzled look and then began to sing.



Sean being Sean, the singing was quickly accompanied by dancing and soon he
was lost in his music no longer paying attention to me or my camera.

I began shooting multi-frames in quick bursts.



Among these was an image of this beautiful boy... his face alight with
happiness and his eyes glancing unintentionally but directly at the camera.



 His lovely body was turned in a frozen jumping twist at such an angle that
the camera got just a glimpse of his perfect ass and just a tease of his
penis. The light caught the tip of his hip bone under skin made taught by
his twisting. His juvenile leg muscles were flexed as he moved..frozen in
the camera's lens.



He was captured in mid-hop; the far foot completely off the ground, while
he seemed (in the image) to be balancing on the toes of the foot closest to
the camera.



His arms were spread bent at the elbow. Both hands were open as if
attempting to catch something as delicate as a sunbeam.



It was the very essence of an 11 year old boy...it was pure and total Sean.



It is this image that now hangs as part of the permanent collection in the
Annenberg Museum in Los Angeles while a smaller copy sits in a teak frame
on my desk to this very day.



Laying the camera aside so that I could down-load and process the pictures
Later, I held out my arms to him.



He skipped more than ran to me and hopped up wrapping his legs around my
waist.

Supporting him with one hand cupping his little ass, I kissed him and said;

"Did you have a good day?"



"Oh yah!" he said with his eyes sparkling.



"Now you remember I'm going away tomorrow right?" his took on a very
unhappy expression.

"And you'll be staying up at the Fish Camp with the Professor learning to
fish yes?"



He'd placed his head down on my shoulder and he wasn't looking at me.

"Yes, I remember but..."

He now turned his face so that he was staring into my eyes.

"...I don't like it."

I slowly rubbed his back with a soft circular motion.



"Did you select a book to read that Dr. Swaim approves of?"



"Yeah. It's `Huckleberry Finn' he says I'll probably like it."



"I think you will too. So...how about you get dressed and you can read your
book while I have my meeting with Dr. Swaim OK?"



"Kay, but Eric...can I read in our room instead of that other room?"



"Oh, you mean instead of YOUR room?"



"Yeah, I like being in OUR room better."



I left him lying on the bed reading his book with a cup of hot chocolate on
the bedside table and I headed down to the library to meet with the
Professor.



The big man was already there. Sitting in one of the leather arm chairs, a
stack of papers on the floor beside him and a drink in his hand.



He looked at me over the top of his glasses which had slid down his nose.
Holding up his whiskey and water he said.

"I've started without you. Go pour yourself a glass of that Caledonian
poison you relish so much and join me.



The Doc would not call it Scotch. He called it "Hibernian" which was a
stretch since the modern usage of "Hibernia" is now pretty much limited to
Ireland or (as he just had) he would refer to its "Caledonian" origins
(that being an ancient name for Scotland.)  It was pretty much like my
calling his Jack Daniels "bourbon"...it was a game we'd played with each
other so long that neither of us could remember how it started.



When I was seated glass in hand, he settled back into his chair and smiled
kindly.

"Let's talk."



"Uh oh!" I thought "Here comes trouble".



"Sean is a very bright boy.  He is perhaps brilliant to be more accurate. I
am of course used to working with brilliant boys in this house."

I knew he was referring to Kyle and (to a lesser extent) me. He reached
down and retrieved a folder of papers from the floor and thumbed through
them.



"All of his tests put him over the top in virtually every subject. His
memory is extraordinary, his reading comprehension is at college level and
his lateral thinking skills are exquisite.



Thus far he has received a superior if unorthodox education at that place
you fetched him from"

Doctor Swaim's dislike for the Academy was well known but he was always
fair and in all things he gave the devil his due.



"Sean has come to you a happy well educated fairly well-adjusted boy who
has a desire to succeed in almost all things and seems to have the talent
and ability to do so."



"Well that's all very good right?" I asked.



"Yes it is...so far as it goes." He took a sip from his drink and nailed me
with those laser- like eyes.



" My concern is not how he arrived here, nor is it for his education while
he remains here-that is essentially MY responsibility and with no false
modesty, I am up to the task.



My concern Eric is WHY he has been brought here and, more importantly, how
he will leave here.



Eric I am your friend. You know this. I've been your friend since you were
a child. I care for you and I would do anything for you. I would put myself
in jeopardy to help ease the pain that is eating at you from the inside...but
I have always been your teacher...not your healer.



I'm here enjoying your wonderful hospitality because at your behest I've
come to serve as tutor to that boy. Under these circumstances, my
responsibility to my student has to come before my personal affection for
you.



You have brought a boy into your home for very selfish reasons and
unfortunately the boy you have selected is not only extraordinary in his
abilities, he is also remarkable in his emotional needs and desires.



He has an ability to feel and to care that exceeds his current
understanding. He is incredibly vulnerable and could be prone to terrible
emotional damage if not handled properly.



I must honestly tell you that unless you understand the full extent of
this, I feel it would be better to return him to that place you took him
from.



As much as I detest their nefarious practices with innocent boys, it would
be better for him to proceed along their disgusting path...better for him to
become a trained and practicing catamite believing (as they are taught)
that this is a natural and acceptable chapter in their lives...

better all of that Eric... than to damage him by allowing to feel and trust
and depend upon something no..SOMEONE who cannot be and has no desire of
becoming the Rock that he is unintentionally beginning to reconstruct his
whole life around.



Eric, that boy LOVES you.  He doesn't know the meaning of the word yet, his
youth and his circumstances both put him in a position where he cannot
verbalize what he is feeling but he is feeling these things none the less.



You have become to him something that he's never had in his life...something
he's been taught never to expect to have.



You are his father, brother, friend and lover and SO very much more...
there's never been anyone to fill those roles for him and until you brought
him here he was perfectly happy not knowing those niches even existed in
his life.



I don't approve of the system he was raised under, but he was happy living
under it.



During our talks yesterday, his conversation kept bringing up `when this
contract is over' and `when I've got to go back to the NEST'.  He's aware
his time here is finite but he cannot actually come to grips with an end to
this relationship.

 It's not a fear so much as a sad resignation that he's holding internally
because he doesn't want to spoil the joy of the time he does have here.



Eric he adores being with you. He wants to be with you as long as he can
and you must never do anything to spoil, damage or disrupt that for him.
If you can't commit to giving him all of your attention this year, then it
would be best to send him back tomorrow."



I realized that my glass was empty. I was weeping and I didn't even know
when it had begun. I reached over and took his empty glass and walked over
to the wet bar.



While I made our drinks, I began explaining about the famous Lady Shrink's
plan for me that had started the whole thing, how I had so carefully
selected Sean for this task... and I told him about our days together so far.



I shared about our simple sexual play and our cuddling and touching...our
laughter and then I told him about being told I was his "best friend ever"
and my telling him that I loved him.



"I DO love him Doc...with everything I know about the word I love him and I
want to protect him...especially from the monster." His eyebrow shot up and
he was about to ask but I continued instead.



"There's a monster inside me.

 At times I go crazy and despite how much I love him,  I don't WANT to love
him...I want to fuck him that's all.



 I want to bend him over and shove my dick up his ass and fuck him. I don't
care if it hurts I don't care if he screams...it's not me...its some monster
inside me...but I have to hear it-I have to listen to it!



I hear it and I listen to what it wants and I fight it but I'm so afraid
that it's going to win...that's why I'm going to trick it.  I'm going to give
it what it wants...but it won't be Sean...it'll be somebody else Sean will be
safe."

Tears were now pouring down my face and I was speaking through sobs. Dr.
Swaim just sat there watching me and listening.



After some deep breathing in order to gain some control, I told him about
the incident in the pool, how I'd almost killed myself in order to kill the
monster and of my plan for a surrogate boy...a bait and switch for the
monster's appetite...about my appointment with little Jack tomorrow...I told
him everything and I wept like a small child.



After I'd calmed down a bit, he spoke again.



"Eric, let's just review a few things that I know...things that you know as
well.



 You have never been a sodomizer of little boys, that's never been your
taste or your nature.



You've never been someone to hurt another person, that's foreign to
everything within you-mind body and soul.



You have always had the capacity to love little boys but that's never been
your sexual obsession. You know very well that they are not physically
capable of withstanding anal intercourse without sustaining pain and damage.



 Your love for Kyle was one of the deepest and purest relationships I've
ever seen but you never considered screwing him...you loved him too much to
hurt him in anyway.



Since I first met you both you were always protective of Kyle you would go
out of your way to keep him safe and you did a wonderful job Eric, a
wonderful job until one day...you weren't there to protect him, you weren't
there to keep him safe and you blame yourself for that.

Eric...deep inside you, despite every rational argument to the contrary, you
blame yourself for somehow not keeping Kyle safe.



Now, along comes Sean- Another boy you love and who can love you in return
and somehow you feel something in you wants to by-pass all that love in
favor of an horrific carnal act.



Eric, you're not secretly obsessed with fucking Sean...that's not the issue.



Something deep inside you wants to hurt Sean...to damage him brutally and
irreparably just as Kyle and your parents were hurt and...damaged.



By hurting Sean you think you are reinforcing you failure. You think you
prove to yourself that you're not capable of protecting anyone...you're
trying to find a way of demonstrating you can't keep anyone you care about
safe.



You simply cannot forgive yourself for the brutal fact that Kyle is dead.
In your heart you know you couldn't have done anything about it but
someplace deep within you feel that you failed him and that you will
continue to fail... be it Sean or anyone else you come to care about.



Once you recognize that and realize how wrong that is...how diametrically
opposed it is to EVERYTHING you actually are, your so called monster will
be dead. It has no power over the truth Eric it will simply die and you c
can really learn to live again... yes even learn to love again."



Through blurry eyes I returned his gaze and shook my head.



"I don't know Doc, you may be right...you usually are...This wasn't what I'd
been expecting we'd be talking about tonight.

I'll think about it, I promise I will- but, I'm still going to keep my
appointment tomorrow. I still think my idea is a good one and that it will
work."



We both stood.

"I'll bring Sean to you out at Fish Camp right after breakfast. I've got my
flight booked to take off at 11:30."



He put a large hand on my shoulder and gripped it tightly.

"I hope you'll have considered what I've just said before you take any
action that you with your gentle nature will surely come to regret.

Remember that once certain steps have been taken...'Alea iacta est.'"





He sighed softly and walked out of the library.



He knew I would recognize those words.  Caesar said them as he ordered his
army to cross the Rubicon and enter Roman territory.

They proclaimed with stark finality that a decision has

(for better or for worse) been made.

"alea iacta est"...the die is cast."



(to be continued)



Thanks for your continuing support and you caring comments. I know that
many of you feel this story has taken on a dark twist...I hope you'll hang
with me a bit more.

In the next chapter Eric keeps his rendezvous with the red haired boy.