Date: Mon, 13 Oct 2014 12:11:06 -0700
From: h.schreiber@hushmail.com
Subject: Chapter 14 of Come Christmas Steve by Hans Schreiber

Come Christmas Steve
Chapter 14
I Miss You! I Need You!

The apartment was trashed just like my dorm room had been. Calvin's place
was always really messy but I immediately realized the massive mess splayed
out before me was purposely done.  Everything was pulled from the
cupboards. Drawers had been removed and dumped out onto the floor. It was a
complete disaster. We made our way into Calvin's computer room where we
found him sitting on the floor just inside the door. His back was against
the wall and his elbows were on his knees with both palms pressed to his
forehead. The room had been gutted. All of his computers and equipment were
gone. Cords were literally ripped from the walls and left strung across the
floor and along the empty plastic tables where all his computers and
monitors had been.

"I'm so fucked," Calvin muttered over and over. "I'm so totally fucked."

"Gawd-dammit!" Officer Stankowski cursed. "Was the thumb drive in here?"

Calvin didn't answer. He just kept muttering how fucked he
was. "Gawd-dammit!" the stocky officer growled again. Then he turned his
fury on me, "This is your fault, you stupid little butt fucker! If you
hadn't lied to me, we'd have the damn drive back." He stormed out to the
kitchen and made a phone call. I strained to listen in.

"It's me," Stankowski spoke. He wasn't really trying to prevent me from
hearing, or if he was, he was doing a very poor job of it. "I'm here at the
apartment. It's been raided. Everything's gone." There was a long
pause. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" Another long pause. "It's not?
Fuck. I don't know. Yes, all three of them obviously. I have to assume they
do. I told you that already." Another pause. "I'll be right there. Fuck!"

Without saying a word to us, he stomped out. Calvin was still muttering in
shock of his loss. I nudged him with my shoe. "Snap out of it. We need to
go to the boy's home now." He shoved my foot away and glared up at me.

"Fuck off. I'm not going anywhere with you. You're fucking poison. This is
your fault. My life was perfect until you showed up with that fucking thumb
drive. Now look at this? The bank is going to can my ass faster than you
can say Bernie Madoff. The cop's right, you should have given up the drive
to him from the beginning like I tried to tell you. But NOOOOO! You had to
be fucking Sherlock Holmes. So I'm done. Go play CSI if you want to, but
leave me out of it from now on."

I stepped back from his barrage. I realized he was pretty much right. I'd
been stubborn and stupid. But I wasn't going to give up. Steve was still
missing. I still needed to find him and make sure he was safe. If no one
else helped, I would not quit. Not ever.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I know that doesn't cut it, but I am." I looked
at Whittaker. "I'm sorry I got you into this too. You tried to tell me the
same thing, but I didn't listen. Are you staying with Calvin or are you
coming with me to the boy's home?"

"I'm with you. I told you I would stand by you on this to the end and I
will."

I smiled with relief. "Thanks. Let's go then."

Whittaker reached a hand down to Calvin and Calvin took it. Whittaker
pulled him to his feet and then drew him into a hug. "Dude, I'm sorry about
this. But I'm glad that drive brought us together. I'll be back and help
you clean up and we'll figure out what to do next." Calvin didn't
answer. He just nodded appreciatively against Whittaker's chest. I didn't
want to rush them but I did want to go. I cleared my throat and they got
the hint. Whittaker and I took a taxi to a car rental company. I rented a
car and we drove to the boy's home using the navigator on Whittaker's
phone. I parked in a visitor space and we headed toward the office.

Whittaker stopped suddenly and grabbed my arm. "Look," he said. In the
parking space designated as Reserved for Director, was a new Camaro with
the vanity plate, Simba, on it.  "That's the car I saw Steve getting
into. The one we thought was Todd's at first. It was that Simba dude's car
instead."

I got excited. We were onto something big. We quickened our step into the
building and up the stairs. We entered the door and a couple of clerks
greeted us. "Can I help you?" one of them asked.

"We need to speak to the Director," I stated with urgency.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No. But we have to see him. It's important," I answered.

"Can I tell him who you are and what it's about?"

"He won't know us, but you can tell him that it's about a boy who used to
live here and has come up missing. Steve Fahrenheit."

"Okay. Have a seat." The clerk, who looked to be in his early twenties,
stepped into an office and closed the door. A young boy, maybe twelve years
old was sitting next to me wearing shorts and a tee shirt, swinging his
legs. He was barefoot. He smiled up at me and I smiled back at him. There
were a half dozen others of similar age waiting there as well. They all had
the same buzzed haircut and were dressed like the cutie sitting next to me.

The young clerk emerged a few minutes later and waved us in. I was not
expecting what I encountered. The office was decorated in all kinds of
Disney paraphernalia. Posters, mugs, banners, pictures and a giant Mickey
Mouse sitting in a wooden rocking chair in the corner. On the credenza was
a large stuffed Simba.

The Director stood and reached out his hand. He was tall - taller than
Whittaker and skinny as a bean. He had bushy blond hair wound in tight
curls. I got this crazy idea that he looked like a toilet brush, or maybe a
Q-tip.

"So what can I do for you gentlemen?" Simba asked. I looked at the name on
his desk and it read, Daniel Whitmore. I was certain this was Steve's good
king. He had mentioned the name Daniel, I was sure of it.

"I am a roommate of someone who used to be one of your residents here," I
began. "His name is Steve Fahrenheit. He's missing."

"I think I remember him. He was a good student. Missing, you say?" Simba
asked.

"Yes. He just disappeared and we need to find him. We are afraid he may be
in some kind of trouble." I didn't want to reveal too much too soon.

"I'm sorry for that. How did you think I could help?"

"We think he may have come to you for help, or at least tried to contact
you," I answered.

"No, no I'm sorry.  Most boys are quite happy to never return here. While
we try to make it as positive of an experience as possible, it's really not
like home. I remember Steve somewhat - good student, mostly quiet - but I
doubt he really thinks much about me. He wasn't the kind of boy who needed
to visit the director very often, since he never got into any trouble. I'm
afraid you came all this way for nothing," he said with a shrug.

"All this way?" Whittaker asked. "What makes you think we came a long way?"

"You said you were roommates, so I assumed you came from Montana State."

"Interesting assumption. You're pretty young to be a Director of such a
large facility. How is it you landed such a big job at your age?" Whittaker
picked up a porcelain statuette of Walt Disney and turned it in his
hands. He turned it over and noticed it had been autographed by Walt
himself with the big sweeping W and D.

The director was scowling at Whittaker, "I'd prefer you didn't handle
that. It's very expensive. I bought it at auction." Whittaker set it
carefully down on the desk and smiled.

"I apologize. You have some very nice stuff in here. You really like
Disney, I see. That's a pretty nice car outside parked in your space as
well. Director of a boy's home must pay pretty well.  Maybe I should
rethink my major. Where did you graduate from?"

Simba wrapped a large hand across his chin and said in a measured tone, "My
career path is really not your concern. I'm afraid I can't help you right
now or at all, really. I'm due to take some of our boys on a well deserved,
off campus, recreational activity. So I need to apologize again for not
being able to help you, and wish you well in your search." He stood up and
moved from around his desk.

"Just one more thing, I'm a little confused about your vague memory of
Steve. He had very fond memories of you and spoke of you highly and
often. Doesn't that seem - odd?"

"Not really," Simba quickly responded. "The boys in here mostly lack a
father figure of any type to imprint on. I'm sure I have no idea how deep
of an impression I've had on many of the boys here."

Whittaker managed to get the last word in and it was classic Whittaker
style. "Yes, I'm sure you have had a penetrating impression on many of the
boys." The director glared at him and ushered us out, closing and locking
his door behind him. The director smiled at the waiting boys and asked,
"Who's ready to go have some fun?" A rousing cheer erupted as the boys
hopped off the chairs.

Whittaker and I walked down the stairs and moved to our rental car. "If he
were any more full of shit, he'd need to diaper his face," I said.

"Seriously," Whittaker agreed. "Don't leave just yet. I want to see what's
going on with those boys," Whittaker instructed me. Shortly, the boys
showed up carrying their towels and loaded onto a small bus. Four older
teens came from another building also wearing shorts and carrying
towels. They looked a little sulky about going. Simba came out last and got
on the bus as the driver and sole chaperone. They pulled out and Whittaker
urged me to follow them, but not too closely. "Go the opposite way but
don't turn until they do," he instructed me. When we saw which way they
went, we wrapped around the block and followed from a safe distance to
avoid detection.

They wound their way towards the lower income part of town where the modern
supermarkets gave way to corner liquor stores and the beauty parlors were
replaced with massage and tattoo parlors. The bus pulled into a nicely
maintained, but older motel called the Cozy Cottage and the boys piled
out. They headed into a room near the pool that was positioned in the
center of the rooms. Shortly after that, we watched as all the boys, young
and old came rushing out and jumped into the pool.

They played and splashed like young boys do in a swimming pool, horsing
around and were very much enjoying themselves. The older boys put the
younger boys on their shoulders and battled each other, trying to tip and
dunk the other teams. Simba disappeared through a gateway and behind the
motel. We watched for a while and then Simba returned and summoned two of
the young boys out of the pool. Reluctantly, the boys climbed out and dried
off. They dutifully followed Simba back through the gate. "C'mon. Let's go
see what's going on back there," Whittaker said.

We got out of the car and crossed the street. We went into the parking lot
of the liquor store next door and made our way to the back fence. He helped
me up on the dumpster and then he climbed up next to me. We peered over the
fence and could see that there were more rooms on the back side and an
underground parking area. We stayed low and hopefully inconspicuous.  About
thirty minutes went by and we were about to abandon our post when the two
boys came out of a room looking a bit distraught. Then they brightened as
one tagged the other and they raced each other back to the pool. Simba
emerged from the room they had been in and then returned with two more
young ones and two of the older boys. Simba gave the older boys some
instruction and then ushered the younger ones into the motel room. The
older ones headed down into the parking area, but not before one of them
flipped Simba off behind his back.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I asked.

"Yes. It has to be." Whittaker motioned for me to jump down. "I'd be
willing to bet there's a bunch of cheap western art hanging on the walls of
that room." We made our way back to the car and tried to figure out what to
do about it. It was obvious to us that this was the porno studio. The older
boys were being sent to the dungeon room and the younger boys were
seemingly posing in the motel rooms like the pictures we'd viewed from the
thumb drive.  Whittaker wrote the name and address of the motel down before
we left and then we drove the three and a half hours back to school in
Bozeman, arriving just as the sun was setting.  Whittaker went to his dorm
and grabbed his laptop and then we rushed over to Calvin's apartment. It
was early evening by this point.

Whittaker took out a key and let us in. I was surprised to see he had his
own key. I guess I shouldn't have been. We found Calvin lying naked on his
bed with a pillow over his head. "Get up," Whittaker said.

"Why?" Calvin groaned.

"Because we need your help."

He pulled the pillow away and glared at Whittaker. "Fuck off. I'm not
playing anymore, remember?"

"It might help you get your computers back."

Calvin sat up like he'd been ejected from a jetfighter cockpit. "Really?"
he asked suspiciously.

"Really. We need to see if you can find out who owns a certain motel."

Calvin dropped back and pulled the pillow over his head. "Can't help
you. They stole my modem, my router and all my computers."

"I have my laptop and we can hotspot on my phone," Whittaker said. "Get the
fuck up."

"Uggghh. I don't want to," Calvin whined.

"I'll reward you later if you do," Whittaker offered.

"My choice?" Calvin asked peeking out from the pillow.

"Your choice."

"Okay. Show me what you got." He hopped out of bed and bounced over to take
the laptop from Whittaker. No matter how much he protested, he really did
want to be involved and he really did love the sleuthing. We went to the
vacant computer room and sat at one of the fold up plastic
tables. Whittaker turned on his hotspot and Calvin started doing his
magic. "The Cozy Cottage is owned by Arthur McMahon, a family law judge in
Missoula. He bought it fifteen years ago out of bankruptcy," Calvin proudly
announced giving his little dick and balls a tug and a scratch. Then he
continued "Here's some useful dirt from his last re-election
campaign. There were claims that he was running a prostitution ring from
that very motel you had me look up. It says he was pimping out the drug
moms that came before his court in exchange for lighter sentences. How
fucked up is that? It was all dismissed after investigations failed to
provide sufficient evidence, however. Nothing stuck. Hmmm, mmm, mmm, mmm."
Calvin scanned the pages. He followed link after link, skimming the
articles and then declared, "Cowabunga! I just hit the
mother-fucking-lode."

We gathered around. "Look! A scandal rocked the local boy's home that
respected judge, Arthur McMahon, is a long time contributor to. Apparently
there were allegations of sexual abuse being inflicted on the younger boys
there. The ring leader of the abuse was a young man who had lived his whole
life at the boy's home. The older teen was found with evidence of the abuse
on his personal computer that he used for school at a nearby Christian
academy he was allowed to attend by special privilege. Because none of the
victims were more than three years of age younger than the perpetrator,
also a minor, and all of them insisted it was consensual, he couldn't be
charged with a child assault felony. But, he was found guilty of possession
of illegal, pornographic images and was added to the sexual predator list
and sentenced on a plea deal to a short term in youth detention and then
put on probation. Plus, the cherry on top is right here: Presiding judge in
the matter, the not-so-honorable Arthur McMahon. There were claims of
impropriety on the judge's part for not recusing himself since he was a
large contributor to the boy's home. Any guesses who that young perpetrator
was?"

"Steve," Whittaker and I both answered.

"Holy shit," I said. "I really am at fault for all of this. Steve was
flying under the radar until I opened up that Facebook in his name and
Simba saw it. That stupid Simba freak is so involved in all of this. I know
he is. He lied so badly about not knowing Steve. The way Steve talked, I
have the strong feeling Simba was bedding with Steve. Now what do we do?"

"This time, we do what we should have done all along. We call the cops,"
Calvin said firmly.

"Yeah. Let's call Stankowski," Whittaker said.

"I guess we need to. We have to protect the boys from that fucked up judge,
Arth ... Arty! Holy shit! Arty is short for Arthur. Pull up a picture of
the judge." Calvin did and we all gasped.  "That's gotta be the asshole in
the porno pictures who messes with the older boys. It's Uncle Arty. That
fucker's not donating to the boy's home, he's investing in the perfect,
porno labor pool. It's a perpetual source of victims who have no one to
tattle to. Simba, the home's director, is obviously in on it, so who can
they go to? Shit! This is big."

"You're right. Oh my god. You're totally right," Whittaker agreed.

"What I don't get, though," I pondered, "Is why Steve spoke so highly of
that Daniel slash Simba character and also of Uncle Arty. He had to know
what sleazebags they were, yet he only had fond, positive things to say
about them."

"I hate to keep bursting your bubble, but he got sucked into their little
scheme. He went to the dark side. But before we call," Calvin said, "I want
to collect my fee. It's too late tonight for that cop to answer his phone
anyway."

I chuckled and said, "Sure. I'll go back to the dorm and do some
homework. We can call in the morning. You two have fun."

"Um, not so fast Bieber-breath. We agreed it would be my choice on what
goes down tonight if I helped out. And my choice is for a three way. I suck
your sweet dick while King Dong here fucks my ass with his gigabyte-sized
hard drive."

"Wait. What?" I objected. "I never agreed to that."

"Look! You owe me big time. This is what I want. Time to make it up to me
for all the trouble you've caused."

I pondered for a while, thinking I really didn't want to because it would
still feel like cheating on Steve to me. But maybe it was all the pictures
I'd seen of Steve with all those other boys and with Uncle Arty, or maybe
it was just that I was losing hope of ever having Steve back in my arms
again. Maybe it was seeing Steve and Todd fucking each other, which really
bothered me, but whatever it was, I relented. "Oh, all right. I guess I do
owe you. Let's get on with it then."

We followed Calvin into the bedroom and stripped as naked as he had been
all along. He really hated wearing clothes in the apartment and would
absentmindedly, fiddle with himself when he was in deep thought. King Dong
located a condom and lube and prepped his enormous dick.  Whittaker was
already boned to the max and performed his tasks in quick anxious
movements.  He was plainly horny and excited for the sexual event about to
take place. I could see he was totally into the three way action and kept
sneaking long, lustful glances at my naked body. I liked it that both
Calvin and Whittaker found me sexually attractive. I'd never really thought
of myself in that way growing up. I guess because the guys I liked and
wished would like me back in that sexy way, were all into girls. I never
felt anyone's eyes undressing me or checking me out like these two did.

Calvin directed me to sit up against the headboard and spread my legs. He
climbed between my knees and took my semi-limp dick into his fingers and
started to fondle and play with it. He licked up along my pleasure shaft
and fondled my delicate balls. He perched his chubby ass up in the air and
wiggled it in horny anticipation of the fucking he was about to
receive. That made me smile with amusement and also left me longing just a
little bit for some butt filling action of my own. Hopefully, I'd find
Steve and be filled with him again soon. I closed my eyes and pretended it
was Steve licking my boy parts and as I did that, I felt the swelling
accelerate until I was as tall and hard as I could get. "Nice! You like
that, don't you?" Calvin cooed.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. You're good at that, dude. Real good." Calvin beamed at my
compliments.  "Hey?" I asked, "Could you get one of your dildo toys and let
me put it up inside me?"

"I'm on it," Whittaker immediately volunteered. He climbed down and pulled
a midsized one from the drawer and greased it up for me. Calvin snatched it
from him to have the insertion honors. I reached down and spread my ass
cheeks while Calvin pressed the smooth rubber toy into place. I smiled in
satisfaction and squeezed my ring around it. It was not as good as the real
thing, but so much better than the brush or broom handles I'd used
before. Calvin resumed his position and stuck his ass back up for his turn
at getting plugged.

Whittaker greased up Calvin's shaved ass and prepped for entry. He smeared
a sizable glob of lube over the pucker hole and then worked it in with his
finger. Whittaker's fingers were long enough to reach Calvin's magic spot
and Calvin had to catch his breath when he did so. After the short,
preparatory finger action, Whittaker took aim by setting the broad, purple
tip of his mighty dick against the freshly greased hole and pushed his way
in. He went half way on the initial thrust, causing Calvin to freeze like a
marble statue while he did. "OH! Oh, oh, oh," Calvin gasped in soft low
tones while he clenched his eyes tightly shut. Slowly, Calvin relaxed and
Whittaker slid the rest of the way in until he was fully buried into the
tight cavern. A look of sheer satisfaction washed over Calvin's face and he
whimpered an impassioned moan. "Oh, hell yeah," he moaned. "Hella good."
Calvin opened his eyes and tilted his head back to look up into my eyes. I
smiled at him as he reached up and pinched my protruding nipples.

"Feel good?" I asked.

"Hell yeah! I love King's dong up my ass. You should try it sometime."

Whittaker's eyes widened when I looked up at him with a spreading grin. He
was shaking his head and mouthing the words, "No. No, don't tell him. Don't
tell him. No, no, no." I had to really work hard at suppressing a smile and
quickly broke eye contact with Whittaker.

"I don't think I could handle it like you can, dude. I'm just not a big
enough ass, I guess."  Whittaker let go of Calvin's hips and clasped both
hands over his mouth until he regained composure.

Calvin was oblivious and a little dreamy-eyed. "You're so hot, Shane. I
can't wait to suck your beautiful dick. I've dreamed about this from our
first night together when you shot your sweet cum on me. You and King
should leave the fucked up dorms and move in here with me."

I forced an appreciative smile as Calvin extended his tongue and licked
around my glans. I'd lost some of my hardness during our little verbal
exchange and dildo insertion but his tongue action began to reverse
that. He slurped my thickening penis past his soft lips and into his moist
cavern. The soft warmth of his mouth quickly coaxed Little Shaney up to
full mast. Then, Whittaker smiled at me as I reacted to the blowjob and
started up his thrusting action on Calvin's ass.  I honestly found it more
than a little erotic watching Whittaker slide his long, thick shaft in and
out of Calvin's smooth ass while Calvin suckled and teased my rock hard
bone. I wished it was Steve's dick instead of a lifeless dildo doing the
same thing to mine.

Calvin tugged on my balls and tweaked my nipples while he encompassed my
dick from tip to base, easily swallowing the top inch into his throat. I
was easy to manage since he'd deep throated Whittaker before. As the tempo
picked up, Calvin started to grunt with each pounding thrust from Whittaker
and he sucked me harder and harder in response to his own heightened
stimulation. I instinctively clawed and scratched his back while he sucked
me to the edge of the orgasmic precipice.

I held back as long as I could, striving to manage and control the building
sensations. The tingles started at the base of my skull. I focused on
Whittaker's contorted face, clenched teeth, and bulging neck veins as he
relentlessly pounded Calvin's quivering ass. "Ahhh! Cum Shaney, Cum!" I
cried out loudly from old habit and jerked upward at the waist, away from
the headboard. My eyes bugged out and focused like a laser on the furious
sucking action being applied to my suddenly tender dick. The head of my
dick felt like a million pins were jabbing at it all of a sudden as the
thrill of a powerful orgasm reverberated from head to toe. I clenched my
toes and pressed my knees into Calvin's rib cage. I relished the spasms of
my ass on the rubber toy filling it, enhancing my experience. A full load
of thick, hot cum burst from my balls and propelled its way up my stiff,
pulsating shaft into Calvin's eager mouth. Once I started shooting, Calvin
pulled off and held my dick like a fire hose, directing my blasts of cum
across his face and onto his tongue. That image sent Whittaker over the
edge and he cried out, tightened his grip on Calvin's hips, and drove
himself deep, deep, deep into Calvin's ass, delivering his own thick, hot
load into the condom, yelling out loud with each pleasurable burst.

"Quick!" Calvin begged after Whittaker was finally done exploding into
him. "Suck me off! Spin around and suck me off! Hurry! Hurry, while King's
dong is still up inside there." I hesitated, but then decided what the
hell. I'd gone pretty far already. Even though I'd spent my load and wasn't
really motivated to return the oral favor I'd just been treated to, I spun
around and quickly jockeyed into position under his dick. Calvin lowered
his hairless penis down into my mouth and I sucked the hard little pricklet
with a vengeance. Occasionally, I'd slip off his small dick and suck both
of his smooth little balls into my mouth and caress them with my tongue and
teeth. I could see Whittaker's large balls dangling above me, drooping and
resting against Calvin's smooth, round ass cheeks. I watched as they
descended, pulled back up briefly and then descended some more. "Finish
me!" Calvin begged. I spit out his balls and resumed my efforts on his
reddened penis.

Calvin bucked his loins into my mouth while he sucked on my balls, since we
were now lying in the 69 position. Whittaker remained draped over Calvin's
back still recovering from his recent joyride. I could feel the slime of my
own cum smearing from Calvin's face onto my now softened dick and relaxed
balls while he sucked and licked on me. Soon, he squeezed my face between
his thighs and pumped his juices into my mouth. It was sweeter than I
remembered Steve's to be - probably because Calvin ate so many sweets. It
bothered me that I couldn't remember for sure just how Steve tasted, or
smelled, or even felt inside my mouth.

When Calvin finished spurting, I milked the last drops from his tender reed
and we all disconnected. A wave of self-loathing flooded through me and I
was suddenly revolted by what I'd just done. It was nothing more than cheap
sex and was not in any way comparable to the love Steve and I made
together. I reached down and jerked the imitation penis from my ass in a
painful extraction as penance for my weakness. While the momentary rush of
orgasm had been similar and even quite powerful, the full experience was
cheap and unsatisfying. I spat Calvin's unswallowed cum onto the bed sheets
and scraped what I could from my tongue by dragging it across my front
teeth as if that would somehow diminish my sin. Tears stung at my eyes and
my nostrils burned from trying to hold back my emotions. "Oh, Steve," I
whispered, "I'm sorry. I miss you. I miss you so much. Please be alive.
Please be safe. I don't care what you may have done, I love you. I want
you. I need you."

				 ___###___

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I am working already on chapter 15 and it
should follow relatively soon. Keep checking as Shane continues his search
for his lost love who he has fallen so hard for. Will he ever reunite? Will
Steve ever be his again or is he lost forever and if so, how will Shane
move on?

I love to hear from you and I will do my best to respond to your comments
and feelings about the story. Thanks to all of you who have sent me such
nice emails. As always, a million thanks to my editors, Flip and Paul, who
make all the difference.

Please consider donating to nifty donate.nifty.org  to keep the site alive
for our stories.

Hans Schreiber, h.schreiber@hushmail.com