Date: Sat, 20 Sep 2014 13:35:22 -0700
From: h.schreiber@hushmail.com
Subject: Come Christmas Steve Chapter 12 (Revised)

Come Christmas Steve
Chapter 12
Not Yet

"Him who?" Whittaker asked. "Who is it?"

"TODD!" I cried out. "That lying sack of shit."

"Todd?" Jensen asked. "Who's Todd?"

"Steve's study partner for English. He said he didn't know where Steve was
at."

"Well, maybe he doesn't," Jensen said. "Just because he's a Facebook friend
with that Simba guy. That doesn't mean he knows Steve."

"That's too big of a coincidence. I know he knows something. We have to
find him." I stated.

"Do you know where he would be this time of day?" Whittaker asked.

"No. I'll have to wait until English class tomorrow." Then I added, "Will
you guys come with me?"

"What time?" Jensen asked.

"Ten, in the Humanities building, room 145."

"I can't. I have choir."

"I'll be there." Whittaker said. "I'll meet you out front at a quarter to
ten."

I smiled appreciatively. We finished eating and bussed our trays, and then
I headed back to the dorm to do some studying. I was hopeful I would be
able to concentrate. When I arrived, I got a lump in my throat as I sat at
my desk and looked at Steve's empty bed and desk. As much as I tried, I
couldn't stay focused. The fact that it was hot in the room didn't
help. Usually the dorm manager kept the heat down low and froze us but for
some reason, he had it way warm. I won- dered if he was entertaining a
naked visitor. He was a senior with a steady squeeze. I stripped to my
boxers and tried again to study. After reading the same paragraph for the
third time and still not having any idea what it said, I gave up and
slammed the book shut. I crawled up onto my bed and let my mind drift to
Steve. I missed him terribly.

I lay there dreaming about holding him in my arms and feeling his strong
hands caressing my naked body.  I became aware that my right hand had found
my erection poking out of my fly and I was absentmindedly stroking it. This
realization only made me miss Steve all the more.  Suddenly, I felt an
overwhelming urge to be filled. I thought about what I might use. I looked
around rejecting one thing after another. The best candidate in my room was
my hairbrush, but the handle was much shorter than what I really wanted or
needed. An idea came but I dismissed it at first. I got the lotion out and
greased up the brush handle. Still, I knew it would not be satisfy- ing and
would probably only frustrate me more. Finally, I gave up and pulled a pair
of shorts on. I propped my door open with a shoe so I wouldn't get locked
out like happened in Yellowstone. I hurried down to the common bathroom and
opened the cleaning closet. I pulled out the broom and dustpan. I carried
it quickly back to my room and shut my door, kicking the shoe aside.

I pulled off my shorts and boxers and then extracted the clipped-on dustpan
off the broom han- dle and tossed it aside. I clambered up onto the bed and
greased up the broom handle as well as my anxious ass. I lay on my back and
lifted my knees. I reached around and pressed the slickened broom handle to
my hungry hole. I pushed it in and slid it up slowly until I found the
magic spot. Once it was in place, I pulled my pillow down my back to just
above my butt cheeks to maintain the perfect angle. I dropped my head back
on my bed and closed my eyes. I gripped the broom between my feet and
worked it in and out, up and down, to stimulate my sensitive butt button
and satisfy my voracious urge to be filled. With my right hand I began
stroking my engorged penis and let my mind wander.

I was transported back in time to that most extraordinary evening back home
at the ranch house.  I remembered lying beneath the heavy quilt and staring
nervously and full of anticipation into the face of my amazing friend and
about to become lover. Steve's caring expression and look of sincere love
radiated, even in the dim lamplight. I remembered the sensations as he
pressed, for the first time, his powerful, hot staff against my clenched
hole. I could smell him and see our steamy breath in my mind's eye. I
pressed the broomstick firmly up against my prostate as I relived the
moment he penetrated me and took my freely surrendered virginity. I felt
tears trickling from the corners of my eyes and gliding slowly down my
temples as I recalled the eu- phoric experience of that moment when Steve
buried himself completely within my body. I clenched down on the broom
handle the same way I had done on Steve's much thicker penis back on that
fateful night. At this point, I so wanted to cum and I began stroking my
penis rapidly while wiggling up and down against the broomstick in order to
stimulate me from within. I was just falling into a satisfying rhythm when
I was startled by a rapping on the door.

I froze and listened to be sure I'd actually heard a knock. It came again
and I swore under my breath. It was a strong and determined
knock. "Whittaker? Is that you?" I called out.

"No," an unfamiliar voice replied. "I'm looking for Steve Fahrenheit. Open
up."

My heart skipped several beats. I sat up slightly and extracted the
broomstick out of my back- side, albeit a little too quickly and it hurt
some. I was pulling my boxers on when the knock came again more forcefully
than before. "Open up, Steve. I need to talk to you now."

"Steve's not here," I called.

"Where is he? Who are you?" the voice asked me.

"Steve's gone. Who are YOU?" I asked back through the door.

"Open up," the gravelly voice insisted.

I felt compelled to comply and cracked the door and peeked out. I found a
short, stalky man in his forties with greying temples and broad
shoulders. He wore an ill-fitting, blue suit with a grey tie pulled loose
beneath a pronounced Adam's apple. His head was like a large block perched
precariously on his stout neck. He sported a crew cut and had dull brown
eyes.

"Where is he?" the man asked.

"Who wants to know?" I asked in return.

"I'll ask the questions, son."

"Ask all you want. If you don't tell me who you are, I'm not answering
them."

"Are you his roommate?" the man asked.

"Like I said, unless you tell me who you are and why you want to know this
stuff, I'm done talking to you." I pulled my face out of the doorway and
went to close it. The man stuck his thick soled, black shoe between the
frame and the door.

"Thanks for the invitation, I'd love to step inside." He leaned his large
frame against the door and pressed his way into the room, knocking me off
balance. I sprawled backwards and fell flat on my ass. He shut the door
behind himself and reached a hand down to help me up. As he did, the flap
of his suit coat fell open and revealed a handgun inside a shoulder
holster. I felt a wave of panicked nausea swell up into my throat. I took
his hand and he hoisted me off the floor.

"If you don't get out of my room, I'm gonna start screaming for help."

This amused the man and glancing around the room, his gaze settled on the
broom and lotion bottle on my bed. "What you gonna scream? Rape?" He
chuckled. He pulled a worn black bill- fold from his jacket and flashed a
silver shield at me. He held it eye level for me to read along as he
announced that he was a parole officer. "I'm Steve's parole officer to be
precise. Now help us both out and tell me where he is."

"Gone," I answered with trepidation. My mind was struggling to process that
bit of unexpected information. "He's gone."

"I can see that," The officer said while he helped himself to a search of
Steve's side of the room.  He flung open the empty closet doors and pulled
the barren drawers open and shut. "Where's he gone to?"

"I don't know. I wish I did." I had now grasped the idea that Steve was
somehow in trouble with the law and this was someone who might be able to
help find him. "He just disappeared after we had a little argument."

"Hmm. Argument over what?" he asked.

"Just something dumb."

"Sex?" he blatantly asked. "Were you two porking each other?"

"Porking?" I asked.

"Yeah, you know," he took his right pointer finger and imitated the fucking
motion by driving it in and out of his left fist, "Porking."

"Oh. Umm. Why do you want to know if ..."

He cut me off. "So you were. Was your argument about that?"

"No. I mean, not ..." I was so flustered I could hardly finish a sentence.

"Sit." He pulled a chair out and I sat down. He sat in the other desk chair
and slid up knee to knee. "He violated a term of his parole and I need to
get in touch with him and sort it out before he ends up at risk of going
back to jail. If you care about him, you need to help me out here."

I swallowed hard and ran a hand through my hair.  The words, "back to jail"
echoed through my brain. That meant Steve had been in jail if he was at
risk of going back. "Okay. Steve and I be- came friends and then we became
lovers over Christmas break. We've been 'porking', as you put it, since
then. We love each other. At least, I love him. For Valentine's Day, I
planned this nice evening out at Plonk, a local bar, er ... and
restaurant. I surprised him with a used laptop I got from my brother. He
got upset and said he couldn't accept it but wouldn't tell me why. Then I
got upset and so he said he would accept the gift after all. Then I told
him that I'd set up a Fa- cebook page for him and instead of him being
appreciative, he got upset again and insisted we come straight home so he
could delete it. He was really worried over it but still refused to tell me
why."

"Holy shit. You created the Facebook page? Not Steve?"

"Yeah."

"So what about his disappearance?" the officer asked.

"Well, I was upset so I left with another guy here in the dorm to go play
pool while he deleted the Facebook. Steve never met up with us and when we
came back here, he was gone. He left this note." I handed the note to the
officer.

"So he never told you about his crime or parole?"

"No. I can't even imagine Steve doing anything illegal. What did he do?"

"The housing department didn't have you sign a waiver to be his roommate?"
he asked in disbe- lief.

"Not that I know of. My mom arranged the housing. She never said
anything. She met Steve during Christmas break and liked him. Tell me what
he did."

"Probably best you not know. Any clues at all about where he might be?"

I thought about the thumb drive and I thought about Todd. I felt a hot
flush as I lied, "No. None."

He stared at me a full minute without speaking and I could feel the needle
of the imaginary pol- ygraph pegged on the "LIAR, LIAR Pants on FIRE!" side
of the scale.

"Well, if you think of anything, here's my card. You can get back to raping
yourself now. Sorry I interrupted your fun." He left and as he did, I heard
him grumble to the effect that "Arthur's gonna ride my ass until I fix
this."

I'd lost all interest in being porked by a broomstick at this point and I
quickly wiped the end of the handle clean. I dressed and returned the broom
and dustpan to the cleaning closet. Then I hurried to the other end of the
hall and knocked on Jensen and Whittaker's door. Jensen opened it and
seeing the state I was in, asked, "What's wrong?"

"I need to talk to Whittaker. I just found out something very important
about Steve. Is he here?"

"Yeah. Hey Whittaker," Jensen called out as he opened the door. Whittaker
pulled his earbuds out and wheeled around.

"Hey, Shane. What's up?"

"I just got a visit from someone."

"Who?

"You'll never believe it. I can't believe it," I said.

"Who? The tooth fairy? I didn't even know you lost a tooth. By the way, do
gay guys get more than a dollar under their pillow from the tooth fairy?
You know, fairy favoritism? Like maybe a dildo or some lube, maybe a condom
or two?" He started laughing at his imagined cleverness.

"No. Not the tooth fairy, jerk. A parole officer. Steve's parole officer."

"What? Steve is on parole? For what?" He stopped laughing and walked over
to me.

"I don't know. The guy wouldn't tell me. He asked if I had any information
that would help find him. I thought about the drive and Todd, but I decided
to hold off mentioning it until we can find out for sure if there's
anything useful from either one."

"You lied to a cop?" Jensen asked almost horrified.

"Not a cop, a parole officer and I didn't lie, I just withheld full
disclosure for the time being. At least until I know if it has any value."

"Wow. What do you think Steve could be in trouble for?" Jensen asked. "What
if he killed some- body? Or committed armed robbery or something?"

"Don't be stupid," Whittaker chastised him, "If he'd murdered someone he
wouldn't be on parole.  It was probably something stupid like petty
theft. I mean, Steve hardly seems like the hard core criminal type."

"I have no idea," I answered. "I can't believe Steve would do anything that
wrong to get into trouble like that. Maybe he just got caught up in
something stupid like you said."

"Yeah, I'm sure it must be," Whittaker agreed. "I hope so."

"Do you think Calvin could find it out?" I asked.

"Maybe. I'll text him." Whittaker pounded out a text and moments later got
a reply: 'Probably, but it'll cost you...' Immediately, Whittaker trailed
off and he blushed.

"Cost? Cost what?" I asked. Whittaker didn't answer but showed me his phone
for me to read.  Stupidly, I blurted it out loud. It read: 'Probably, but
it will cost you a large deposit into my sperm bank.' I suppressed a grin.

"Why would Calvin say something like that?" Jensen asked.

Whittaker opened his mouth but nothing came out. I rescued him. "He figured
out that Steve and I were gay lovers, so he's kind of an asshole and
started teasing me that I needed to make a deposit in his sperm bank if he
helped me find him."

"Oh," Jensen said. "Yeah, he is kind of gross like that." Whittaker flashed
me an appreciative smile.

"So, tomorrow at ten we'll talk to Todd. Maybe he'll know something. You're
still coming, right?" I asked Whittaker.

"Yup. I said I would. I won't leave you hanging, dude. I'm really dying to
know what's going on now. This is like being Sherlock Holmes. In fact, I
might just pop over and see if Calvin can find out what Steve did to be on
parole right now."

"Cool. Let me know if he finds anything out," I said, hopeful.

"I will for sure," Whittaker agreed.

"Want me to come with you?" Jensen asked.

"Umm, well ... I guess, umm ..." Whittaker stammered.

"I thought you said you had a big test coming up, Jensen. Shouldn't you be
studying for that?" I asked.

"Oh, I guess."

"Don't put off 'til tomorrow what you can do today, right Whittaker?" I
asked.

"Right!" he agreed.

"All right. But let me know what you find out too. I'm really curious,"
Jensen agreed. Whittaker gave me a sly wink.

It was about two hours later that Whittaker sent both me and Jensen a text,
"No luck. Records are sealed because he was a minor. Even Calvin can't
break in." I sighed, rolled over and went to sleep. The next morning, I got
up and dressed for running. Whittaker wasn't outside my door like usual. I
sent him a text. No answer. I called him. No answer. I left and ran
alone. It wasn't as fun alone, but it was still good for me. I thought all
about how I was going to approach Todd later on that morning. At breakfast,
Whittaker came dragging in and sat by me after he got his cup of coffee.

"Not eating?" I asked.

Whittaker shook his head. "Not hungry. I pulled an all-nighter."

"Oh. That sucks. What are you studying for?" I asked with a mouthful of
runny scrambled eggs.

"Not an all-night study session, an all-night ass fucking marathon with
Calvin. He's insatiable. I thought Jensen was a horny bastard. Oh my God!
Calvin is the Honorary Mayor of Horneyville.  He's got a lifetime of sexual
frustration he's trying to catch up on, I swear. My poor one eyed monster
is a little sore, I'll be honest." I chuckled at Whittaker as he rubbed his
crotch.

"Computer geek versus King Dong," I joked. "Computer geek wins!" He smiled
at me.

"King Dong," he repeated, "I like that. I think I might adopt that."

"You're still coming to meet up with Todd, right?"

"I'll be there. Sorry that we couldn't find anything out about the
parole. That's harder to get than Obama's birth certificate."

"Thanks for trying."

"My pleasure. Actually, it really was my pleasure up 'til about midnight at
least. After that, it got a little painful." He rubbed his crotch and
snickered. "He talked me into letting him use that super long dildo thing
he ordered off the net on me. Holy shit!"

I laughed as I got the image. "No way! You let him put it up your ass?
Really?"

"Yeah, but I'll deny it if you ever repeat that to anyone. Oh my god, now I
know how it feels for you and the girls I've fucked. No wonder the chicks
can't take the whole thing. I swear, it still kinda feels like it's up
there. Am I walking funny, by the way?"

I laughed even harder. "No, not that I can tell. Not any funnier than you
usually walk, at least.  Soooooo, did you like it?"

He didn't answer right away. He just sort of pondered the question and
swayed back and forth for a minute before saying, "I guess it was all
right. I think I prefer to be on top though. It's better to give than to
receive, you know."

"Would you let me do it to you?" I asked with a little wink.

"Serious? You want to?" Whittaker asked.

"No. That was just a hypothetical. If I did want to, but I don't, would you
let me?"

"Probably. Hypothetically speaking. With you, yes."

"Did you let Calvin?"

"You ask too many questions." He took a long draught on his coffee.

"You did let him! I can see it in your eyes. Did you like it?" I pressed.

"Dude. Let's be done with this convo, okay?"

"Just curious. I'm just wondering if maybe sexing with me brought you over
the rainbow." I smiled.

"No man. Don't flatter yourself. I'm not gay. Calvin and I just have this
sex buddy thing going on.  A little convenient bromance, you know?"

"Okay. That's cool. See you later in the English building."

"Yeah, I'll be there. Later," he said as we bumped knuckles.

"Yeah, later King Dong." He laughed out loud and waved me off.

When it came time to confront Todd, I started to get nervous. Whittaker
showed up as promised fifteen minutes early. He suggested that he stand
back and observe and if he needed to get in- volved, he'd step in, so it
would be a little less threatening to Todd. I agreed.

Just as Whittaker stepped away, the two girls from Steve's study group
walked up. I stopped them. "Excuse me, I'm a friend of Steve's. We met in
the library."

The two stopped and crossed their arms, clutching their notebooks against
their ample chests.  The blond one spoke, "Oh hi. Where is Steve at?"

"I was hoping you might be able to help me find out. He just kind of
disappeared," I said.

They both looked at each other and then back at me with puzzled
concern. "Weird. He never said anything. He just stopped showing up to
class."

"Well, if he contacts you about finishing your project, will you call me?"
I asked.

They looked even more puzzled. "The project's finished," they chimed.

"Really? But Todd said ..." I changed direction. "Did he seem like extra
good friends with Todd?  Like when you went over to Todd's house to study,
did he seem like he was used to being there a lot?"

They both shook their heads in wonderment at that. The blond spoke again,
"We never went over to Todd's house to study. We did it all here in the
library."

"Wha ... Oh. Oh okay. Well if you do see him, will you call me? Here's my
number."

"Sure. Hope you find him." They walked into class and I fell against the
beige brick wall.

"He lied to me. He blatantly lied to me," I muttered in sad disbelief.

About two minutes before his English class was about to start, Todd showed
up. "Hey Todd!" I called out.

"What do you want now?" he grumbled. "I have to get to class."

"I want you to tell me the truth. I want to know where Steve is and I want
to know why you lied to me before."

"I didn't lie and I don't know," he spat.

"Bullshit! I know you're Facebook friends with some guy named Simba, who
also responded to Steve's Facebook page. What's the connection?" He
squirmed.

"How do you know about Simba?" Todd asked.

"From Steve's Facebook page that I set up for him. I gave him a computer
and made a Face- book for him. He was upset about it and wanted to delete
it. While he was supposedly doing that, he disappeared. Then I see this
Simba guy was the only one to respond to him and then in looking at Simba's
page I see you there. So what's the truth? What's going on and where is
Ste- ve? Is he in trouble?"

"Fuck! You created a Facebook with Steve's name on it? You stupid asshole."

"You're the asshole. You're a lying asshole and I want to know what's going
on!" I demanded.

"Shut the fuck up. Keep your voice down. Look, if Steve took off on you,
it's because he wanted to, okay. He was probably tired of your little dick
and big attitude. So just leave it alone and fuck off, okay. It's none of
your damned business."

His words pierced my heart. If he was right, I was being a fool. A big
fool. If Steve had just been using me for a good time fuck until he was
ready to move on, I was being a super-size fool. "Are you and Steve having
sex? Is he at your house? Are you his new lover?" I demanded.

Todd laughed scornfully. "You dumb bitch. No. We fucked each other a few
times, in the past.  That's over and it never had any meaning. I'm done
talking to you. Leave me alone and just for- get about Steve. You're better
off." He gave me a shove and spun to leave, only to find himself nose to
sternum with Whittaker.

"We're not leaving you alone and we're not forgetting about Steve. You're
going to tell us what you know. Now!" Whittaker gripped Todd around the
neck with his large hand and pushed him around the corner and out of
sight. He tightened his grip and Todd dropped to his knees. His eyes were
bugging out. So were mine.

Todd gripped Whittaker's forearm but was powerless to break the grasp. He
nodded as best he could and Whittaker relaxed his grip. "Okay, okay," Todd
whispered hoarsely. His face was beet red.

"So spill it."

"Steve and I were both in the boy's home together. The same guy is paying
for both of us to go to school here. Steve's on probation for something
that happened back at the boy's home. I think maybe he was hacking or
something because he's not allowed to use a computer or even have a cell
phone with internet. He's on some kind of list and he can't have a cell
phone or any internet usage, so when he needs to call his probation officer
or our contact about school stuff, Steve meets up with me and uses my
phone. That's all I know."

"When's the last time you saw him?"

"A couple days ago.  He had two large suitcases with him."

"Where is he?" Whittaker asked with a little squeeze.

"Don't know. I really ..." Whittaker put the death grip back on and then
loosened back up. Todd continued with tears dripping from the corner of his
eyes. "Honest. I don't know."

"Did he call Simba?" Whittaker questioned. Todd nodded affirmatively.

"Is he with him then?"

"No. No way," Todd said.

"Who is this Simba dude?"

"I don't know," Todd eked out under Whittaker's continued grip. "We just
call him. He's our con- tact for money and things. That's all."

"Bullshit, you're on his Facebook, so you must know him."

"No. I don't. Honest. There's no pics of him on his page anywhere. He's
like incognito." Todd was almost pleading.

"So where is Steve at?"

"I DONT KNOW!"

"Guess!" Whittaker demanded.

"With some friend from school or the boy's home probably. I don't know."
Whittaker let go.

"If he contacts you, you're gonna call us, right?" Whittaker said
sternly. "If you don't and I find out, I'll put some serious hurt on you
and you'll think this was just a little party game. Under- stand?" Todd
nodded agreement emphatically. Speaking to me, Whittaker said, "Let's
go. That's all he knows."

"Just a minute," I said to Whittaker. Then I asked Todd, "The guy paying
for your college, is he named Uncle Arty?" Todd's face immediately shot up
and he stared in my eyes. His mouth dropped. "So it is. Who is he?" Todd
shook his head in refusal to say.

Whittaker groaned at his pointless refusal and reached for his neck again,
"NO! He's Arthur Downey. He helps out the boy's home with donations and
stuff. He likes to be anonymous. If you say I told you who he is, I'll deny
it. Don't go messing with him. You'll regret it."

We left Todd cowering in the alcove and headed back to the dorms. On the
sidewalk outside the Humanities building I grabbed Whittaker's arm, "Dude,
where did you learn the Jedi grip of death?"

"Hah," Whittaker snorted, "One of the things my mom did to keep me out of
her hair was enroll me in a Tai Kwon Do class every day after school. I had
a really cool instructor who took a liking to me and he taught me all kinds
of awesome stuff he probably shouldn't have. He was a special forces vet."

"Damn, Todd like had a meltdown and totally spilled his guts when you put
that grip on him.  Thanks."

"No prob, dude. Whatever it takes to find our friend."

When we got to the dorms, I told Whittaker that I was heading to my dorm
room. "I need some time to think, I'd like to be alone for a bit."

"Sure, I understand," Whittaker said. "Call me if you need me. I need to
crash for a bit anyway.  I'm exhausted from not getting any sleep last
night." I smiled and went into my room and fell on my bed. All of this new
information just swirled around in my brain but I couldn't make any sense
of it.  Before long, I fell asleep and my dreams were of wild apes chasing
me through a park. I was naked and screaming for help but no one paid any
attention to me. I was sweating and thrashing in my bed.

I woke up just as a large gorilla wrapped his hand around my neck and
started to squeeze it.  "AHH!" I cried out and sat up. I was panting and
sweating and my heart was racing ferociously.  When I got control of
myself, I grabbed my phone and saw I had a bunch of messages from
Whittaker. Before I could look at any of them, there was another fist
pounding on the door. That must have been what woke me in the first
place. I pocketed my phone and went to the door. I expected it to be the
parole officer again. But when I opened the door, I was surprised to find a
guy in a brown overcoat and an angry expression on his dark scowling face.

"Where's Steve?" he gruffly demanded.

"He's not here."

"I fucking know that. Where is he?" he snarled.

"Who are you?" I asked rubbing my eyes.

"None of your fucking business who I am. Steve has something of mine and I
want it back.  Where is he?"

"I don't know. What does he have of yours?" I asked, thinking I already
knew.

"None of your fucking business."

"Well he's gone. He moved out." I opened the door wide and pulled a couple
drawers open. He took everything with him and he didn't tell me where he
was going. I'm trying to find him too."

The man studied me for a minute and then growled, "If you find him, text
me. It's important."

"Sure." I took the paper from him and stuffed it in my pocket. He glared at
me one last time and turned on his heels and walked off. I waited for him
to disappear down the stairs and immediately headed over to Whittaker's
room.

Jensen answered the door and I asked if Whittaker was there.

"No. He went over to talk to Calvin about Steve and the files on that thumb
drive," Jensen ex- plained. "What did you find out from that Todd guy?
Whittaker was too tired to tell me about it."

"It's too much to tell right now. Plus there's someone else looking for
him. Come with me if you're interested, I'll fill you in on the way. I'm
heading over to Calvin's."

"Well, umm, yeah, okay, I guess I can. Let me get a jacket."

"You don't have to come if you don't want," I said. I could tell from his
reaction that he was just being polite about going with.

"I am kind of studying for a big test. So what's up with Steve?" he asked.

"He's ..." I caught myself. If Jensen wasn't going to help find him, then I
didn't see a need to waste time explaining it all. "He's got others looking
for him. See ya. Good luck on the test."

"Oh. Who?" I didn't answer, I just headed out the door and down the
stairs. I ran all the way to Calvin's.

I pounded three times on the door before Calvin jerked the door open,
scowling. "What the f..."  He stopped mid-sentence and making eye contact
said "Oh, it's you. You must be psychic or something. Whittaker was just
about to text you again. I cracked it."

"The code?" I asked excited.

"No, a fucking coconut. Of course the code. But ..."

"But what?"

"But, you're not gonna like what I found. Come in." Calvin turned and
walked off down the hall toward his computer room. He was wearing a pair of
green socks and yellow silk boxers and nothing else.

"King, he's here. No need to text," Calvin said. It took me a minute before
I realized he was call- ing Whittaker King. I guessed Whittaker had decided
to start calling himself King Dong.

Whittaker put his cell down and twirled in the office chair to face me. He
was stark naked and his long, dangling dick was a little shiny. Apparently,
they'd already celebrated the cracking of the code before my
arrival. Whittaker looked at me and grimaced. "Dude, you need to sit down."

I was getting nervous now. I sat down and asked, "What? What did you find?"

Calvin maneuvered the mouse and pulled up some files. "Your roomie is one
sick bastard, it turns out. He's into child porn." I stared blankly at
Calvin as he continued. "You're better off without him and if you do find
him, you need to turn him over to the cops."

"No," I responded. "That can't be. You must be wrong. Steve would never."

"I'm telling you, he's taking nasty pics of little boys and peddling them
all over the world. There's freaking big dollars involved too. The poor
college student thing is one helluva cover. I'm guess- ing he's hiding from
someone, so that's why he didn't want the Facebook page. Maybe he's hid-
ing from the law."

"Look, there's no way he would do that. You're wrong."

"I get it. You slept with the creep so you don't want to believe he could
be like that. But no wor- ries, King and I will let you hang with us and
sex it up as a threesome. It'll rock, and you'll forget all about that
perverted asshole. We'll let him join us, right King?"

"Jesus, Calvin," Whittaker said crossly, "Show a little sensitivity and
shut the fuck up about that."  Then turning to me, Whittaker said, "I'm sad
about it too, but Calvin's right. That's what's on the drive. Check it
out." Turning then to Calvin, Whittaker said, "Show him."

Calvin pointed to the screen. "Prepare to wanna puke." I read the screen
and the letter was writ- ten in very bad English, placing an order for two
hundred copies of sexy American boy videos. They were to be shipped to
Bangkok. The next order was for three hundred copies going to
Vietnam. There were dozens and dozens of orders and they were truly going
all over the world. I sunk back in my chair and felt the uncomfortable
churning in my stomach. "Brace yourself," Calvin said and clicked the
mouse. He began scrolling through images of young naked boys engaging in
various sexual acts in what appeared to be a motel room and some sort of
basement sex chamber.

"Stop!" I cried out. "Turn it off!" I wanted to throw up, but couldn't.

"Sorry, Shane," Whittaker said, placing a hand on my slumped shoulder.

"No," I whispered. "No way. I don't believe it. Just because Steve had this
disk, it doesn't mean he knows what's on it. Maybe he was holding it for
someone. How would Steve have all those international contacts? It doesn't
make any sense to me."

"Good point, I guess," Whittaker agreed.

"And why would he leave it behind if he was the one doing this?" I
asked. "Listen, I was just coming over to tell you that this creepy guy
came to the dorm room wanting Steve and saying he had something that
belonged to him and he wanted it back. I bet he's behind this."

"Serious? Damn, this is getting crazy," Whittaker agreed. "Maybe he didn't
know what was on it.  Still, you said he was acting suspicious and he was
hiding it, so he must have known there was something bad on it. He's
probably not the ring leader, but he must be involved somehow. Think about
it, why else would he have a parole officer looking for him just because he
had a Face- book page?"

"Hah! I fucking told you," Calvin said. "He's hiding from the law. Your
Facebook page must have tipped them off. He's a fucking kiddie porn pedo
and we have to turn in these files as evidence."

"Hold on. We can't just go jumping to conclusions. He's innocent until
proven guilty," I insisted.  "We need to find him and I need to hear his
side of all this."

Calvin rolled his eyes and shook his head. He got down right in my face and
said, "Listen Shane.  I know you don't want to believe your BF, who you let
fuck your virgin ass, was a pedo, but the evidence is clear. Face it and
get over him. The sooner the better. He had a fucked up childhood and he's
probably damaged from it, but that's no excuse for this sick shit. The
sooner we notify the cops and they catch him, the sooner it all gets
better."

I let it sink in. "I don't know what he's on parole for. The officer
wouldn't say. We can't just as- sume. Maybe it was hacking like Todd said."

"Shane," Whittaker said gently, "Calvin's right. We have to face the
evidence here."

"I agree it looks bad, but before we notify the cops, please let me talk to
Todd again tomorrow and try to find out what else he knows about where
Steve is and what's going on with this other guy. I just think he knows
more than he told us even with your death grip on him."

"DUDE!" Calvin stormed. I flinched.

Whittaker stood up and pulled Calvin into him. He leaned down and spoke
softly in his ear. Still, I could hear, "Calvin, chill out. This is a lot
of shit he just got dumped on him. Cut him a little slack, okay. We can
wait one day." Calvin shrugged and walked out. Whittaker pulled me up and
embraced me.

"Thanks," I said.

"I'm sorry, Shane. I really am. I'll be there for you again tomorrow when
you confront Todd."

"Thanks, Whittaker. You're a good friend." I turned and walked down the
hall, slumped, broken.

"You want me to get dressed and walk you back to the dorms?" Whittaker
asked. "I'll stay with you if you need me to."

"Would you? I'd like that. I'm worried about that creepy guy coming
back. He was scary."

He nodded and disappeared into Calvin's bedroom. He emerged shortly
afterwards fully dressed. As we headed back across campus, Whittaker got a
text from Jensen. Jensen said that some private investigator wanted to talk
to Whittaker. I wondered if it was actually the parole officer again.

I trudged up the steps and down the hall to my dorm. I put the key into the
lock and opened the door and gasped. The room was trashed. My closets and
drawers were emptied and everything had been thrown into a heap on the
floor. The beds were torn apart and the mattresses to both beds were also
strewn on the floor. I waded in and Whittaker followed me. "What the hell's
hap- pened here?" I cried out. I was stunned at the mess.

"I'm guessing someone's been looking for that thumb drive," Whittaker
answered.  "Do you think so?" I asked.

"What else?"

"Yeah. What else. This really is getting crazier by the minute. How did
they get in?" I wondered out loud.

Whittaker helped me clean up and put everything back in place. Both my
computer and the computer I'd given Steve were gone. "That asshole stole my
computers." I dropped onto the chair and kicked the other one over with my
foot in frustration and anger.

"Sorry, dude," Whittaker consoled. "Maybe it is time to involve the cops,
you think?"

"Not yet. Not yet."

***************##***************

I'm sure some of you thought I had abandoned this story because it has been
so long since a chapter has been posted. Let me assure you, I have not and
will not do so. I will see it through to the end. I cannot promise how
quickly more chapters will roll out because of the events in my personal
life that have limited my writing time, however. I appreciate your patience
and hope it does not diminish the enjoyment of the story for you. Comments
are always welcome.

Sincerely, Hans h.schreiber@hushmail.com

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