Date: Thu, 22 Aug 2002 20:41:14 -0700 (PDT)
From: Steve Draper <unclesteve_1999@yahoo.com>
Subject: Frightening Facade by Uncle Steve (M/M Medical, Oral, Anal)

Usual disclaimers apply.

Life had not been kind to Chris Peters. He'd been
born with a grossly deformed skull. Many painful
surgical procedures followed. The surgeons
managed to correct the shape of his head but not
his distorted features.

Growing up had been a nightmare. People pointed
at him in the street. Young children screamed and
ran away from him while older kids jeered and
laughed at the boy they called 'the freak'.

Chris' parents had tried to give him a normal
home life. Teachers soon realised the boy had
above average intelligence. They encouraged him
to learn while trying to suppress their
overwhelming feelings of pity for him.

When the disfigured youth turned sixteen, he
started lashing out with his fists at anyone who
came near him. He was sent to a juvenile
psychiatric facility. Sedatives were used like a
chemical straight-jacket, to restrain him.

Tom Phelong was a good looking 30-year-old
attendant at the facility. At first he pitied
Chris but when Tom got to know him better, the
attendant realised that beneath Chris'
frightening facade lurked a gentle soul.

The heavy medication made Chris feel like he was
fighting his way through layers of cotton wool.
Yet, of all the staff at the facility, he
communicated with Tom the best. At night, the
youth often dreamed about the attendant.

Every day started with the same routine.

"Time for your shower, Chris", Tom said.

The attendant helped the youth through to the
bathroom. Chris allowed the man to undress him
and then got under the jet of warm water. The
attendant used a flannel to wash Chris' uncut
penis.

"Turn around".

As soon as the flannel touched Chris' bottom-hole
he said quietly: 'Rape!' They both laughed.

"Smack your bum?"

"Y-yes please".

The youth pushed his glorious bottom up and the
attendant gave both firm mounds a few gentle
slaps.

"H-harder".

Tom obliged with two swats which left red
handprints on each pink cheek. Chris laughed with
delight at the familiar game. He stood upright.

"Now we better get you dry".

All the time he was working with Chris, Tom told
the youth that he was a handsome young man
blessed with a body like a Greek God.
Well-meaning psychiatric nurses used professional
jargon to say the same self-affirming sentiments.
Chris trusted Tom because he spoke from the
heart.

"Once we get you out of here you'll have the pick
of the girls".

"N-no", Chris said, "I'm q-queer - like you".

"Pick of the boys then", Tom replied, feeling
more than a little flustered by his patient's
candid insight. He helped Chris back to his
favourite chair in the dayroom.

In the months that followed, Chris' medication
was gradually reduced and then stopped
altogether. He kept his fists to himself. The
facility decided to release him back to the care
of his parents. Tom felt tearful as he watched
Chris leave. Then the attendant shrugged his
shoulders and went to help whichever patient in
the busy dayroom needed him the most.

Five years went past. One night Tom left the
facility intending to walk the short distance to
his apartment. A menacing figure loomed out of
the shadows. There had been a spate of
gaybashings and the sight of the big man in the
motorbike helmet made the attendant very afraid.

"Relax, Tom. It's me..."

The voice was deep and gentle. He took Tom's arm.

"..Chris".

The man flicked the helmet visor back revealing
the familar disfigured face.

"Chris!" Tom's voice shook. "How lovely to see
you!"

"You reckon?" Sardonically.

"Yes".

They talked for a while and then Chris gave Tom a
lift back to his place. The attendant climbed off
the Triumph's pillion-seat.

"Would you like to come in?"

"Sure".

Chris settled into the one comfortable chair in
Tom's apartment. The men caught up with each
other's news. Chris was employed as a motorcycle
courier. The obligatory helmet provided an
effective mask for him. He lived in a halfway
house for former psychiatric patients.

"And what about you Tom?" Chris asked. "You still
queer?"

"Yes" He paused for a moment. "You?"

Chris nodded. "Not that I've ever done anything.
With another man I mean". He shrugged. "Being the
way I am".

"Hell, Chris, what a fucking waste. I think
you're gorgeous".

"You're not so bad yourself".

Both men stood up and Tom kissed Chris right on
his twisted mouth. Their tongues explored each
other.

"Come to bed". It was a command not a request.

"And if I don't?" Chris' voice was teasing.

"I'll do you right here on the floor".

Tom put his arm around Chris and they went into
the bedroom. They undressed each other, letting
their clothes fall onto the carpet.

"Always wondered what that big bulge was in your
white pants. Now I know".

"Sssh".

The men lay on the bed licking each other's
dicks. Then Chris took Tom's member right inside
his mouth. His warm, moist tongue caressed Tom's
pulsating shaft. When he came up for air, Tom
returned the favour until Chris' shot his load
down Tom's throat.

"I need to feel you inside me".

Tom looked at Chris' beautiful bottom. He
explored the crease with a finger and then
penetrated the hot, tight tunnel within. Chris'
sphincter muscles swirled around the older man's
finger. Tom withdrew and then used lube until he
could pentetrate the virgin fundament with two
fingers.

"Do me doggy style. Then you won't have to look
at...".

"Shhh".

Tom rolled Chris onto his back and pushed his
legs up in the air. Chris was supported by a
pillow.

Tom slid a Durex over his penis and then pressed
the mushroom-shaped head against Chris'
bottom-hole. Tom leant over and passionately
kissed the younger man as though his was the most
handsome face in the world. He felt Chris relax
so pushed the head of his big dick inside that
incredibly hot, tight tunnel. He kept pushing
until he was fully inside.

"You're crying", Tom said as he froze. "Am I
hurting you that much?"

"No! It's because you're the only man who ever
cared enough to ... "

"I know".

Tom cradled the younger man in his arms and
kissed him again and again. When Chris was ready,
Tom started thrusting into his chute, slowly at
first but then faster - until his penis swelled
and then ejacqulated, deep in Chris' bowels.

Afterwards, the men cuddled on the bed.

"Do you have to go somewhere, Chris?"

"Go?" The sleepy voice sounded puzzled. "But I've
only just come home".

That made Tom the happiest man alive.

From: unclesteve_1999@yahoo.com