Date: Mon, 11 May 2009 15:30:32 -0700 (PDT)
From: adm2780 <adm2780@yahoo.com>
Subject: New Horizons  Chapter One-hundredTwo

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any
means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author.
As in real life, the sexual themes unfold gradually and are kept to a
realistic level.

This story contains descriptions of consensual sexual contact between
males, adult and minor.  As such it is homoerotic, designed for the
entertainment of mature adults.  If you are not of legal age to read such
material, or if the subject matter would create irresolvable personal moral
dilemmas, please exit now.

Note: I would like to thank Matthew for his unwavering support and editing
skills while I write this story.  Matthew has stories of his own posted
under Adult Youth.  One of my favorites is Never Take Love For Granted; try
it, you'll like it.

Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to the author,
Dwight Wilson, at adm2780@yahoo.com


Chapter One-Hundred-Two: New Horizons


"Father, we know these boys will often tell you things that they wouldn't
even consider telling us or any of the other boys.  Now, understand that
I'm not asking you to divulge something we know you can't.  What I'm asking
for is your opinion on what it is these boys seem to fear the most when we
talk about returning them to their families.  This is a new experience for
us."

Daniel sat in his office with Father Andrew, Paul, the professors, and
Greg.  Many of the boys recently taken in at New Horizons, freed slaves,
had let it be known that they didn't want to go home or have an contact
with their families.  Greg had been conducting research on the subject by
researching how other countries, that had outlawed slavery, addressed the
situation.

"Daniel, the simplest way to explain their fears is to describe it as fear
of rejection.  They know that most people will be able to figure out what
the boys were made to do.  They may not be able to figure out or imagine
the finite details of the sexual activities, but people will assume that
the boys were made into sex toys.  We have to remember that during their
training, at least for most of them, they were constantly told that they
were less than human.  They had no rights and amounted to little more than
animals or toys, trained to act on command and please their master.  I
think we can agree that news reports have made that type of training fairly
common knowledge.

"Now, we're thinking of placing these boys back in their homes and society.
They can not just pick up where they were made to leave off.  Everything
has changed for them.  They've been robbed of their childhood.  Their
innocence is long gone.  I'm not talking about just sexual innocence, but a
child's ability to trust and accept.  They trust no one, at least not
adults, and they'll wait to see the actions before they accept what you say
to them.

"These boys are afraid that if they have to go back and face their former
school-mates and friends, they'll be laughed at and rejected.  All these
boys have now is the memories of what was their childhood.  If the people
who helped form those memories were to reject them, then they would have
nothing.  The only thing that could be worse would be rejection by their
families.  Most of the boys have said to me that they don't know how they
could ever look their parents in the eyes again. Not because they blame the
parents for what's happened, but because they feel ashamed of what they
became."

"Mr. Daniel," Greg interjected, "if I may interrupt.  What Father Andrew is
saying pretty well shadows the research we conducted on boys enslaved based
on civil actions.  There has been a lot of research on the psychological
effects of slavery on the boy and some research on the boy's family.
Filtering through all the technical jargon, what they tell us is that both
the boy and the family have similar fears.  The boy is concerned what his
family will think of him. The family is concerned whether the boy will
forgive them.  The Europeans developed programs to help reintegrate the
family.

"Reintegration worked best with the younger boys who were enslaved for only
a short period of time.  The older the child and the longer the
enslavement, the lower the success rate.  Part of the problem was that the
child's education became dormant.  He was left behind his peers and lacked
the necessary support to catch up.  Some did, of course, but then there
were others that didn't.  Those that didn't either became manual laborers,
or in many cases, committed crimes where they were again enslaved.  One
paper did some research on freed slaves who committed crimes and were
re-enslaved and found that it wasn't unusual to find out the person's goal
was enslavement."

The room became quiet as everyone digested what Greg said.  All of them
knew what he said was true and had given thought to the fact that not all
the children would be able to return to their families.  Concerns had also
been expressed about boys who had been enslaved for a number of years and
how to reintegrate them as contributing members of society.  After two or
three minutes, Carl broke the silence.

"Greg, when you were doing your research, did you come across references to
any programs where, let's say, the child had been a slave for five or six
years, like the boys we have now.  Also, like the boys we have now, there
was a fear to face the family and, possibly, a fear on the family's part as
well.  Is there any data addressing keeping the boy in foster care, such as
would be done here, and encouraging some contact with the family at the
same time?  When I say contact, I'm talking about a card, or letters, maybe
an occasional visit; controlled reintegration with society and family
simultaneously."

"If my memory serves me well," Father Andrew interjected, "the Vatican did
extensive research along those same lines back when Europe was working
towards eliminating slavery.  The focus was on helping the child and
strengthening the family.  When we finish here, Greg, I'd be glad to make a
couple of calls for you and we should be able to get a name and number of
someone at the research library to help you."

"Father, what do you think of the idea of having a boy that has been in a
position similar to theirs, but has returned to his family, come and share
his experience with them?  Do you think it might give them at least some
hope of not having lost everything?  I think you'll remember the boy I have
in mind, Clayton Holmes."

"Isn't that the fourteen year old from Boca Raton that was thrown out by
his father?  I believe his mother owns several beauty parlors and he did
the Cherubs hair?"

"That's the one," Daniel answered.  "I've been in contact with his mother
from time to time and she also works with Linda on anti-slave projects.
She tells me that Clay is doing fine.  It wasn't as perfect as we might
have hoped, but everything has worked out for him and his younger brother."

"If the boy is willing to talk about his experience, I don't see where it
would do any harm," Father Andrew commented.

"Good, I'll give Mary a call.  In fact, we're supposed to be in Orlando to
serve lunch to the seniors again this Wednesday.  Maybe I can call
Elizabeth and offer to appear on the show with the Cherubs.  A little extra
publicity never hurts.  Is there anything else we need to discuss right
now?"

"The holidays," Paul spoke up.  "We have Halloween on top of us with
Thanksgiving right around the corner.  Are we going to try and do something
for the kids?"

Everyone laughed as Daniel took a deep breath and buried his head in his
hands.

"I know, I know," Daniel commented.  "We just had a bunch of boys for a
vacation at the various resorts.  I don't think it's practical to ask to
the boys to dress up for Halloween.  Anyone have a suggestion?"

"Given that half the boys had time at the resorts and half didn't, why
don't we try to organize some sort of fun fest for all of them.  The newer
boys can learn to relax in an environment they're comfortable in, and it
should help the boys take another step towards normal.  Paul, did we just
hear you volunteer to spearhead organizing the fun fest?"  Daniel asked as
he looked towards his friend and smiled.

                                           * * * *

"Clay," Mary Holmes opened the patio door and called out to her sons who
were rough housing in the swimming pool.  "Okay, boys, dinner is almost
ready.  Time to get dried off and eat."

"Hey, Mom?" Marich, her younger son called out, "Do we hafta get dressed.
Can we just come in and eat that way we can just run back out here."

"Marich, how many times have I told you that I don't mind if you and Clay
run around naked all the time.  However, I do expect a little decorum at
the dinner table.  It won't kill you to slip on some shorts and a shirt for
a few minutes.  You know the rules.  If we eat on the patio, you may remain
naked.  If we eat inside at the dinner table, you dress."

"But, Mom, you always said that when we're naked we look so beauti . . . ."

Clay grabbed his younger brother and dunked him under water before the boy
could get himself in trouble for arguing.  Clay knew by his mother's tone
that the point was not up for debate.  The boys quickly dried off and
dressed.  They came to the table wearing shorts and a clean pullover with a
collar.  Clay wore his sandals while Marich remained barefoot, but Mary
didn't care.  She really didn't care if they came to the table naked.
Marich was right, Mary thought her boys were beautiful; actually, she knew
they were.  However, they did need to keep some semblance of decorum for
when they had company or were visiting others.

"Marich, you are right," Mary spoke to her sons.  "I do think you both are
very beautiful when you are naked.  Any girl should be proud to be seen
with one of my sons.  Also, I think you are very beautiful when you are
dressed."

"Mom," Marich answered, "I don't think Clay's gonna come home with a
girl-friend.  It'll pro'bly be more like a boy-friend and Clay'll be the
girl."  Pure mischief registered on the younger boy's face.

"Stop," Mary commanded as she playfully popped Marich's hand in mock anger.
"If Clay chooses to have a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend, that's for
Clay to decide.  Your father tried to make that choice for him once and
I'll not have anyone say anything bad about Clay's personal choices.  You
are both my sons, you are both beautiful, and I love you both.  Now eat
before you say anymore and get in trouble; then I would have to turn you
over my knee."

Clay and Marich both knew that their mother would never lay a hand on them.
Nor would she ever allow anyone else to harm them.  All of their lives
changed the night that Clay's father had thrown him out of the house.  They
were lucky that Clay wound up with Daniel and the boys at New Horizons.
Clay felt he was very lucky because his mother never asked him any details
about what he had to do to survive.  He understood that she probably knew,
but she gave him the respect of not making him relive those months on the
street.

Since returning home, his life had been filled with happiness.  He no
longer had to fear his family learning about him being gay.  He had always
acted a little effeminate and been subjected to abusive remarks from his
father for not being masculine enough.  With their prick father out of the
home, life was good for both boys.

"Daniel Thompson called me this afternoon," Mary stated in a quiet tone.
The boys waited to hear what else she would tell them.  "He wanted to know
if you, Clay, could come back for a visit and give them some help on a
little matter."

"What kinda matter?"

"Do you remember reading in the paper about a lot of boys being freed
because of a technical legality when they were enslaved?  Most of those
boys are now at New Horizons.  Daniel said he has about double the number
of boys as when you were there.  Some of these boys were slaves for several
years."  Mary paused to read her son's expressions.

Clay stopped eating, but he didn't set his fork down, it hung in midair
with a bite of pork waiting to be chewed.  Clay's expression became somber
as he remembered what it was like to live on the streets.  To live in fear
of being harmed or caught and enslaved.  He knew just how close he had
become to being one of those boys.  When he returned home he tried not to
let his mother know just how frightened he had been.  He knew that he never
wanted to tell her about some of the things he was forced to do to get
money to stay alive.

"Clay?" Mary spoke softly and placed a mother's loving touch on her son's
arm.  Clay turned to look at his mother, but he couldn't hide the tear
forming in the corner of his eye.

"What does he want me ta do?"

"He said some of the boys are afraid to go home.  They're afraid to have to
go back and face their family and friends.  They're afraid of being
rejected.  Daniel thought you might be able to tell your story.  It's
something they can relate to and it might give them hope.  But, you know
you don't have to go.  I can tell him you have to stay in school if you
want."

"No," Clay whispered, fighting back tears.  "If it had'n been for
Mr. Dan'l, I coulda been one of them boys."  No one said anything for a
coupe of minutes.  Mary used a napkin to wipe her son's face.  Marich sat
quietly, watching his mother and brother.

"Mama?"  Mary was surprised.  Clay hadn't called her that since he was a
small boy.

"Yes, baby?"  Clay looked at her and smiled; then, he looked down as though
he was too ashamed to look her in the eye.

"When you picked me up at New Horizons and we came home," Clay hesitated,
questioning whether he should have gone down this path but knowing he
needed to.  "You never asked me what I done or what happened after Dad
threw me out."  Clay said it as a statement, but his expression was
pleading for an answer.

"Clay, look at me," Mary spoke gently, with the love in her voice that
could come only from a mother.  "When I found out where you were and that
you were safe, I knew that my prayers had been answered.  The moment Daniel
told me you were safe, I cried tears of joy.  I cursed your father every
night that you were gone.  I cursed myself for not stopping it that first
night."  When Mary said she cursed herself, Clay looked her in the eye.

"Mama, you won't hate me?"

"Baby, you're my son.  How could I ever hate you?"

"But, you don't understand.  I mean, you don't understand what I did, Mama;
when I was on the street."  Clay looked pleadingly at his mother.  "Mama, I
had ta do things, things with other guys and I let them do things to me.
Mama, I was called Pretty Boy . . . for a reason.  I was a whore."  Clay
barely spoke the last words in a whisper as he broke down and cried.

Mary knew that Clay was releasing almost a year's worth of fear and
frustration.  She had hoped that he would break down and talk to her
sooner, but this needed to be done when he was ready.  Wrapping her arms
around him in a mother's protective embrace, she pulled the boy into her
and let him cry.  Instinctively, she began a slight rocking motion to help
calm him while she whispered words of support and encouragement in his ear.
With each sob her own emotions were divided.  She hurt for her child, but
remained angry and bitter towards her ex-husband who had caused this much
pain to one so innocent.  When she felt his sobs slacken, she pushed back
on his shoulder while lifting his chin with her other hand.

"Clay, look at me, baby.  I won't lie to you.  I could guess what you did
on those streets, but I also knew that you did it because you had to.  Not
one night passed that I didn't think of you and shed a tear because I
wasn't there to protect you.  Now, I want you to listen to what I'm going
to say, and I want you to look me straight in the eyes as I say it."  Mary
paused for her son to wipe his eyes and regain part of his composure, then
she continued.

"Don't you ever be ashamed of what you did on those streets.  You did what
you had to do to survive.  You know something else?  I'm very proud of
you."  This startled Clay and he gave her a questioning look.  "Clay, most
boys would have taken the easy route out and stole from others.  You didn't
allow yourself to drop to that level.  Believe me, baby, if there was any
way I could take all those days and nights away from you and replace them
with good times, I would, but I can't.  I'm proud of you for having the
courage to do what you did.  You took on a man's responsibilities, and
showed a man's courage.  I think your father could have learned a thing or
two from you."

"Really?" was all Clay could say.

"Really.  I want you to promise me something.  If you ever feel the need to
talk about it, promise me you will let me know.  Don't ever be embarrassed
or ashamed to tell me anything.  Your mama isn't quite as naïve as you may
think and she doesn't get shocked easily.  If you need to talk to someone
else, I'll understand and do all I can to make it happen.  Okay?"

"Yes, ma'am.  I promise.  Love you, Mom."

Just then, Clay and Mary felt another hand on their backs.  When they
looked over, Marich stood next to them, tears running down his cheeks.  He
was quickly pulled into the loving session.  After a few minutes, Clay
broke the silence.

"Mom, when does Mr. Dan'l want us to come?"

                                           * * * *

"Mary, I can't tell you how much I appreciate you and the boys coming."

"Daniel, remember that I had said any time, and I meant it.  When I
mentioned it to the boys, they didn't hesitate.  Now, you're sure you don't
mind them staying here for the next three days.  It looks as though the
population around here has really increased.  We can stay at a motel or
something."

"Nonsense, besides, experience has taught me that the best way for boys to
connect is to put them all together and let them do their own thing."
Daniel then turned to Clay.

"Clay, are you sure that you're comfortable with this?"

"Yes, sir.  If it'll help some of 'em, then I don't mind tellin' em' what
happened before you got me and how it was goin' home.  I was where they are
now and know how it feels.  It's kinda scary.  There's just one thing
though, Mr. Dan'l, I think they might talk better if it's just us kids.
Know what I mean?"

"Yes, I understand.  As much as I would like to hear what's being said so I
can better understand their needs, I know they'll open up better if there's
no adults around.  Mr.  Paul is having a bunch of the boys gather in the
hall now so you can talk.  With some of these boys, Clay, there is a family
to go home to; others aren't that fortunate.  There will be some of your
old friends there too, just so you don't feel quite so alone.  Are you
ready?"

"Yes, sir, I think so.  Uhhh, Mr. Dan'l?  Do you think it'd be better if
maybe me and my brother . . ."

Daniel didn't need for Clay to finish the question. "It might be better if
you blended with them rather than standing out the way you do now.  That
is, if your mother doesn't mind."

"Me?  Mind?" Mary answered, laughing.  "You have to be kidding, Daniel."

Daniel didn't understand Mary's reaction until the boys, who had gone to
Daniel's office to undress, returned.

"Okay, fellas, looks like there is definitely a lack of tan lines in your
household.  Guess being nude doesn't make you uncomfortable."

"It's like you and the Father said, Mr. Dan'l, there's no reason to be
ashamed of the way He made us.  Mom lets us go naked at home all the time.
It don't bother us at all."

As they walked towards the meeting hall, several of the original boys
recognized Clay and called out to him.  He called back and told them he'd
be out and join them in a few minutes.

"Mr. Dan'l, where's Danny?  I'm surprised he had'n come runnin' out to us."

"Danny is in class at the moment.  He's learning his letters and numbers
and, more importantly, how to sit still for more than five minutes at a
time."  Mary laughed with Daniel.

There were around fifty boys in the hall, including a few of the original
boys.  As it had been outside, the boys recognized Clay and ran up to greet
him.  Clay looked around for Thad, his former boyfriend, but he wasn't in
the room.  Daniel let the boys have a few minutes before he interrupted
them.  While he waited he watched as the boys acted as though Clay had
never left.

"Guys, let me have your attention up here, please," Daniel tried to bring
order to the room.  When the boys quieted down, Daniel continued.  "Okay,
as you probably have guessed, the young man standing next to me is no
stranger here.  Clay was part of our family, but returned to his family
about six months ago.  We know that many of you are anxious about returning
to your families and how they may react.  I asked Clay and his family to
come here and talk with you.  They have agreed to share his experiences.
The lady standing next to Clay is his mother.  She will come back later and
be glad to talk with you and answer any questions you have.  With that, the
adults will leave and let you boys talk all you want."

Daniel and Mary walked away from the building slowly.  Neither said
anything, both wanting to hear how the meeting with the boys would start.

"Uhhhh, guys, I'm not sure really what ta say to ya.  Mr. Dan'l asked me if
I'd be willin' to talk with ya and answer questions 'bout how it felt to go
home and what happened, so I guess maybe that's what we should do.
'Course, I guess I should tell you who we are.  My name's Clay Holmes.  On
the street I was called Pretty Boy." That got light laughter from the boys
who recognized why Clay had that name.  "This little turd next ta me is my
younger brother, Marc.  His real name is Marich, but Mom and I are the only
ones allowed to call him that."  The boys all laughed, particularly when
Clay was punched in his arm for the remark.

Daniel and Mary stopped in their tracks when they heard Clay introduce his
brother.  Daniel laughed while Mary, momentarily, was shocked.  Finally,
she looked at Daniel and smiled.  "Love as only one brother could express
it to another."  They continued to Daniel's office.

"Mary, do you remember Paul; my right hand, arm, and everything else needed
to keep me straight?"  Daniel reintroduced them as he and Mary entered the
building.

"Oh, yes, I remember Paul quite well.  I didn't see you when we arrived,
Paul."

"That's because Daniel had me busy keeping him straight at the time," Paul
answered with a smile.

Daniel and Mary continued into Daniel's office.  Daniel motioned for Paul
to join them.

"Mary, before we talk, I think we should explain our concerns and plan of
action.  Then, you'll better understand why I thought of you and the boys.

"You are correct, that the population here has increased, substantially.
I'll assume that you've read in the paper, or heard on the news, that the
courts found that many of the boys had been enslaved without recognition of
their due process rights.  The case went to appeal and they upheld the
lower court ruling.  As far as we know at this time, the Supreme Court will
do nothing to interfere with what's happened.  As a result, we almost
doubled our population.  We have returned a few of the boys, mostly younger
boys or boys recently enslaved, to their families.  It's the other boys,
the older ones or those enslaved for a long time, that we are concerned
with.

"These boys are afraid.  They are afraid of rejection by their families,
their friends, and the community.  Those that have been enslaved for an
extended period of time are way behind in their educations and afraid they
can't catch up.  Of course, for part of those reasons, we're hoping Clay
can help by relating how he felt and his experiences.  However, there's
another side to consider.

"When you think about the boys and their families, we always ask about the
boys.  This is the first time we've had to consider, as a large group, the
families and the effect that the boys returning home will have on them.
We've been doing a lot of research in other countries where this has
happened.  The research reveals to us that there may be families that can
not cope with what happened to the boys and what they were forced to do.
We are asking for your advice and feelings, based on your experience, on
how to deal with these families."

"I see," Mary replied, thoughtfully.  "Daniel, may I ask why you didn't
consult Linda?  After all, she went through the same experience."

"Truthfully?  Because I was concerned that she might hold back, concerned
about whether she might be hurting me with the truth.  I needed someone who
would talk to me at arms length so to speak."  Mary just nodded before she
spoke.

"Daniel, what we are discussing seems simple at first, but it's anything
but that.  In my case, my son was thrown out by a narrow minded man who was
more concerned what others would think of him if they knew he had a son
that was gay, than he was about his own son's welfare.  Initially, my
emotions were fear for Clay's welfare and anger towards my husband.  There
wasn't a night that I didn't go outside and hope to find Clay waiting,
hiding in a bush or around the corner, but waiting for me to rescue him.

"Every time the news came on and there was a report of street kids picked
up by the police, I strained to see if Clay was in the group, scared he
would be and scared he wouldn't be.  The alternative could be that he was
dead in a dirty alley.  I listened to the reports and figured out where a
lot of the kids hung out.  Sometimes, at night, and a few times during the
day, I would ride those neighborhoods looking for him.  My fear was
eventually replaced by two other emotions.  One was depressing resignation
that I had lost him and would never know what happened to him.  The other
feeling was guilt; that was the strongest."

Daniel watched Mary's expressions as she spoke.  In her mind she was
reliving every heartbreaking moment of Clay being gone.

"When the call came in and I learned that Clay was here, I just felt numb.
My prayers were answered and I was the happiest person around.  Happy, that
is, until the thought crossed my mind as to whether Clay would forgive me
for what happened.  He came home and, once he was satisfied that his father
would never return, we became a happy family again.  I knew that Clay had
to sell himself to survive and worried whether he was going to handle
everything okay.  I thought he would talk to me, but he didn't.  At least,
not until you called.

"When I told him you called and wanted some help, all I had to do was tell
him it was about other boys that were in his position.  Almost immediately,
I saw him reliving every bit of it.  Once he started, he didn't stop until
he confessed to me that he had to prostitute himself and asked if I still
loved him.  I'm not sure which one of us cried the most; even Marich joined
in the crying."

Mary realized that tears were running down her cheeks and took a moment to
regain her composure.

"Daniel, I can not even begin to imagine the guilt and remorse a parent
would feel if their child was enslaved over a civil action against the
parent.  I know that it happens, but still .  . . .  The biggest problem
would have to be guilt on the part of the parent and animosity on the part
of the child.  What you are telling me though is that the child is worried
whether the parent will accept them back into the fold.  The boys need to
understand that a parent's love is boundless, unconditional.  The parent
just hopes the child's love can be open enough to forgive them."

Daniel took a deep breath and thought a moment before responding.

"Mary," Daniel began somberly, "Would you be willing to go on television
and discuss this subject from a parent's perspective?  The boys and I are
scheduled to be in Orlando serving lunch to the seniors on Wednesday.
Prior to going to the center, we are scheduled for an appearance with
Elizabeth.  With your permission, I'd like to suggest to Elizabeth that we
broach this subject.  I could possibly call Mother and ask her to join us."

"Daniel, if it will help you and the boys, you know I'll do it.  I just
want everyone to understand that I'm not a psychologist and can speak only
from my heart.  There is one thing I would like to suggest, if I may.  I
understand how some of the boys may feel unwanted or possibly they are too
bitter to go home.  Still, they have parents out there that are worried
about them.  If you can't give them closure by returning the child, at
least give them peace by letting them know their child is alright."

"We're working on locating the families now and that was one of the
questions I had for you.  Once we know which families we can contact, I
wanted to talk to those specific boys and let them know what we are doing
and why.  My personal feeling is that if they don't want the parents to
know, then I won't send out the notice.  It's more important to us that the
boys know they can trust us.  We'll see what happens."

                                           * * * *

"There's always some asshole that wants to give you a hard time.  I
remember bein' on the street and there was always some jerk that had a
snide remark to make, like callin' me a fag or a slut.  Thing is, I
couldn't say anything to 'em; I needed to do what they wanted so I could
have some money to eat.  Anybody that's been on the street's probably had
the same problem and I bet you guys that were slaves ran into the same
thing.  You had ta take it."

Clay had told the boys how he wound up on the street and eventually came to
New Horizons.  More than once, when telling about his experiences on the
street, many of the boys nodded their heads in recognition of the
experience Clay related.

"Bein' on the street, I guess, wasn't a whole lot better'n bein' a slave.
We had to watch over our backs every minute.  We never knew when we'd turn
a corner and there'd be a cop to take us in and make us a slave, or a freak
that wanted to beat the shit outta us and then rape our asses.  Maybe,
since we weren't slaves, we could run, but run where?  All we could do is
run to another empty building with a cold floor for a bed, find another
closet to hide in, feel our bellies rumble 'cause we had'n eatin'.  There's
different kinds of bein' free.

"When I got back home I thought I could pick up where I was when my old man
kicked me out.  Things had changed.  My family was still there and they
still loved me.  My mom never asked me what happened on the street; she
just held me and told me how much she loved me.  The hard part was goin'
outside and seein' people you knew all your life.  They'd look at ya and
you'd swear they was talkin' behind your back."

"Maybe they were.  Pro'bly talkin' 'bout what a cute ass you got."  Clay
turned, shocked at the words, and then smiled when he saw Thad walking in.

"Thad!" Clay called out, beaming as he and Thad approached one another.

Everyone in the room was quiet except for a few whispers while the older
boys explained to the new boys that Thad and Clay had been best friends and
lovers.

"Missed you," Clay whispered to his friend.

"Yeah, me too," Thad whispered his reply.

The two boys just stood there looking at one another until Marc finally
spoke out.

"Everybody can see what you two want ta do.  Why don't ya just do it?"

The two boys fell into one another's arms, hugging each other tightly.
Neither said anything for a moment, both struggling to maintain their
composure in front of the other boys.  Clay shivered and began to cry when
he felt Thad's light kiss to the side of his neck.  He tightened his grip
on Thad and whispered.

"Gahd, I've missed you."

"Careful, don't react too much," Thad whispered to his former lover.  "We
wouldn't want these boys to see you sportin' a boner and knowin' just how
horny you can be right now, would we?"

Clay pushed back away from his lover, laughing.  Only Thad could tease him
like that at this kind of moment.  Both boys turned towards the other boys
in the hall.

"Uhh, guess you guys pro'bly guessed by now that me and Thad were kinda
close," Clay commented, nervously and blushing.

"No shit, big brother," Marc teased Clay.  "I thought you were gonna lay
out for him right in front of us."  All the boys laughed as Clay made a
fruitless leap for his little brother.

"Before we finish, can I ask a question?" One of the boys spoke up.  Clay
forgot about Marc and became serious again as he looked towards the boy.

"My questions for your brother.  Did you catch any shit from anybody 'bout
your brother?"

Clay looked to Marc.  Neither had really expected any questions to be
directed towards him.  Just then, Daniel and Mary stepped into the door
way.  Marc looked at his mother who was the only other person who knew the
truth.  They had agreed not to tell Clay, afraid he might feel responsible.
Mary, with a simple nod of her head, signaled Marich that it was time to
tell the truth.

"Yeah, a coupla times," Marc glanced at Clay, almost apologetically.  "I
never told Clay 'cause I didn't want him feelin' bad about it.  A couple of
the kids in the neighborhood said somethin' 'bout Clay bein' a pussy boy
and wanted to know when I was gonna bring him around to take care of them."
Marc looked at Clay and hung his head when he saw the shocked look on
Clay's face.  "I'm sorry Clay, maybe I shoulda told you, but me and Mom
didn't want you to get upset.  Besides, I handled it."

"You and Mom?  You mean Mom knew and didn't tell me?  You neither?  Why?"

"Because your brother was trying to protect you," Mary spoke up.  "Marich
missed you so much that he was afraid if you found out what happened and
what he did, you might decide not to stay.  He told me about the incident
and I agreed it would be best to wait and see what happened in the future.
As it worked out, there were no more incidents and I didn't see any need to
make things any harder on you than necessary."

Clay looked at his mom and then, his brother.

"What did you do?"

"Kicked him square in the nuts, twice.  He went down squellin' like a
baby."  Marc grinned, then blushed as he looked towards his mother who just
stood there shaking her head.

"Way ta go!  He deserved it!" someone yelled from the group.

Clay walked up to his little brother and gave him a hug.  Daniel could see
the emotions were on the edge of breaking and decided to take control of
the meeting.

"Boys, I think you've talked enough.  If anyone has any more questions,
I'll tell them to ask you when they see you around outside.  Okay?  Your
mother and I have something to say to the boys now, and then we'll end
this.  Why don't you fellas head on out?"

When the boys were outside, Marc turned to his brother.

"Is this the guy you told me so much about?  This is THE Thad?" Marc asked
excitedly.

"Yes, this is THE Thad.  This is the guy that I got it on with so much when
I was here."

"I can see why, too," Marc commented as he stepped back and admired Thad's
body and masculine parts.  "He's hung good."  Thad looked at Marc, somewhat
stunned.

"Clay, what have you been tellin' 'im?  He sure seems anxious to look at my
dick and stuff.  'Course givin' I don't see any tan lines and knowin' he's
your brother, I bet he don't wear clothes much and keeps one hand busy
stretchin' out that thing of his."  Both Thad and Clay laughed at Marc's
expense, but he really didn't care because the conversation focused on sex,
Marc's favorite subject.

"Well, you gotta kinda forgive Marc, Thad.  You see, he's just got his
pubes and started shootin' recently.  He's kind of a horndog, if you know
what I mean.  He's still a virgin and hopin' ta cure that before too long."

"You're shittin' me, right?" Thad laughed.  "If it's so important for him
to lose his virginity, why had'n you done it?"

"You don't understand," Clay replied.  "We fool around back home and I've
taught him how to deep throat somebody.  He can finger fuck you to a climax
and has a really talented tongue, but he's savin' his ass for somebody
kinda special.  He don't think he should lose it to his brother."  Clay
gave Thad a look to let it be known that he wanted his younger to stay an
anal virgin, whether the boy liked it or not.

"Yeah," Marc interjected.  "I'll let Clay have all he wants, after.  I want
somebody to take my ass that doesn't worry so much 'bout hurtin' me.  I
read that it's best when somebody pounds your ass like a jack hammer; hard
and fast.  I'm ready; I get horny just thinkin' 'bout it."

Thad and Clay could only laugh.

"Well, Marc, if losing your virginity is so important, there's a bunch of
guys around here for you to choose from.  You gotta know the rules though."
Thad winked at Clay to let him know he understood what clay wanted for
marc.  "The little ones are off limits.  You may see some of the younger
ones foolin' 'round with each other, but that's okay.  You don't play
around with nobody unless he's got pubes, too."

"Yeah, but how do I get to know somebody that's willin' ta have sex with
me?  I don't know what ta say or do?"

"That's the easy part for a guy; you don't have ta say or do anything.  If
a guy sees you and thinks you're hot the sign is obvious," Thad answered as
he held his first finger out limp and then gradually let it rise to being
straight and stiff.  Marc watched and then smiled, quickly understanding
the meaning of Thad's finger.

"Hey," Clay interrupted, "are the twins still around.  They're the only
young ones that us older guys have to be protected from.  They'd attack him
and teach him more in one session than I could in a month of Sundays."

"Yeah, but would you really want to do that to your own brother?  Those two
would give him a bad case of blue balls.  Think you'd want to explain that
to your mother?"

All three boys laughed.  Marc had heard a little about the twins, but was
actually happy that there might be a good chance of him getting laid before
going back home.

"Marc, just do yourself a favor," Thad added. "Don't try to make it happen,
you don't have to.  As a matter of fact, I bet there's a good circle jerk
going on in the showers tonight; usually is.  You'll get to see and meet
some of the guys and they'll meet you.  Just let it happen and it pro'bly
will."

"You know what's really kinda funny 'bout this?" Clay asked.  "My old man
threw me out 'cause he was afraid I was gonna corrupt my little brother,
the sex fiend himself."


End Ch 102

To Be Continued

Comments welcome: contact Dwight Wilson at adm2780@yahoo.com