Date: Sat, 21 Jan 2012 23:36:06 -0800
From: h.schreiber@hushmail.com
Subject: Chapter 24 of Rock and a Hard Place by Hans Schreiber

Warning!  This story is a work of fiction written by a legal age adult. Any
similarity between the fictional characters and any live person is purely
coincidental. This story contains fictional descriptions of sexual activity
between consenting minor youth. If you are under the age of 18, and/or if
you are offended by this content, and/or if it is illegal in your
jurisdiction to possess or read such material, please leave now and do not
read this story as neither the internet host nor the author can be
responsible for your actions. Please, always practice safe sex; no
momentary thrill is worth your life.

			   Rock and a Hard Place

				Chapter 24

				 Aftermath

       I spun frantically and pounded on the door with my fists. "Open up!
They're gonna kill me! Please! Please! Dear God, save me! Please God, save
me!" Renaldo and his gang members laughed hysterically. A firm hand gripped
the back of my collar and jerked me away from the door. I was whirled
around to find my six attackers sneering with delight. "C'mon, leave me
alone. I'm sorry about what happened in the lunchroom. I didn't mean
anything. I'm getting out of here tomorrow, so I'll be gone and you won't
have to worry about me anymore."

       "No, Blanco, you're not getting out of here so easy. Everyone must
know you don't mess with Renaldo. When I'm done with you, you will be
begging to die. Oh, and I am still going to fuck you."

       "All right, but I'm not going down without a fight. I promise you, I
can inflict some serious pain. How about you just rough me up some and let
me go. I'll tell everyone that you kicked my ass and fucked me until I
bled. You can keep your reputation. I just want to get out of here and
forget this whole nightmare ever happened. My family's rich, I can pay
you."

 	"It's not about dinero, Blanco. It's about respect," Renaldo
said. "Ese, take him down and strip him naked, so's I can fuck his ass."

       One of them grabbed my jumpsuit and I gripped his wrist, jerking it
downward and twisting. I spun him around and lifted his wrist up along his
spine so hard that I dislocated his arm from the socket. He cried out and
fell away from me as a second attacker threw a punch to my gut. I tightened
my abs and his hand practically bounced off. He gripped his wrist in pain
and I took the opportunity to stoop and slide my arm through his crotch. I
lifted him up and spun him like I was one of those stupid ass TV wrestlers
then slammed him full force into one of the wooden benches. I was pretty
sure I'd broken his back from the sound of the crack. He grunted and rolled
to the floor groaning in serious pain.

       It became clear that Renaldo had no intention of being involved in
the fight. He was just giving directions to his underlings which gave me an
idea. I thought if I could bring the fight to him, maybe he'd call it
off. I'd already seriously disabled two of his beaners and shaken the
confidence of the others who were hesitating. Two down, four to go.

       I capitalized on that moment of hesitation, like I'd learned from
wrestling, and launched myself toward Renaldo. He backpedaled quickly and
twisted as I tackled him near the cage door and easily maneuvered him face
down against the painted concrete. I lay on top of him and put him into a
full nelson. I stretched his arms backwards and forced his neck down so
that his chin buried itself into his chest. He began yelling," You're so
fucking dead!"

       "Not if I kill you first!" I lifted him off the cement and pounded
his forehead hard against the unforgiving floor. He screamed in pain. I
lifted him again and drove his forehead into the concrete one more time. He
yelled out, "Do something Bull, or I fucking swear, Pablo's dead." Sudden
understanding filled my mind as I realized why Bull had joined into the
ambush on me. Renaldo had used threats of violence against Pablo to force
him into this. With a renewed fury, I lifted Renaldo off the cement, fully
intent on killing him if I had to. Before I could slam Renaldo's face back
into the blood splattered floor, I was gripped around the neck by Bull's
strong arm, putting me into a sleeper hold. He was stronger than anyone I'd
ever wrestled against, and he was squeezing my airway shut.

       "This is it," I thought to myself, "he's gonna kill me to save
Pablo." Somehow, in a strange way, dying for some kind of purpose seemed
less futile and more acceptable. It was not as though I really had any
choice in the matter, but there was at least a small amount of nobility in
it. Naturally, I had to release my hold on Renaldo and make an attempt,
pointless as it was, to free myself from Bull's death grip. Bull flipped me
over at will and sat on the floor, leaning his back against one of the
wooden benches with my back pressed against his chest and my body between
his legs.

       Renaldo ordered the two gang bangers, who I hadn't incapacitated, to
rip my clothes off. Bull released his grip just enough to prevent me from
passing out, on Renaldo's order. He said he wanted me conscious for my
fucking. Each breath had to be forced through my restricted windpipe in
deliberate, painful gasps. My jumpsuit was unzipped and quickly clawed off
of my body along with my boxers. Each gang member took hold of a leg and
pulled it upward and outward. I kicked my right leg, shaking off the gang
creep and then I kicked him in the jaw. Then my airway was pinched
completely shut. I clawed in panic at Bull's arm. The gangster took his
place again and held my leg. The grip was loosened and I dragged in a
laborious breath.

       Renaldo grabbed my boxers and used them to stem the flow of blood
from his nose. His speech was slurred and he seemed disoriented. I think he
was suffering from a mild concussion resulting from the blows to the
concrete. Renaldo slid between my thighs and brutally shoved his dick into
the crack of my ass. He wasn't fully hard and he cursed his own dick. He
grabbed it and furiously beat it seeming confused why it wouldn't stay
boned up. I wondered if the concussion caused that to happen as
well. Renaldo stood and stuck his half limp dick in Bull's face.

       "Chuparlo!"

       Bull didn't speak but refused the order. Renaldo screamed the order
again and added a string of Spanish that included Pablo's name in it. Bull
slumped and reluctantly sucked Renaldo's dick into his mouth. Renaldo's ass
cheeks rested on the top of my head. I could smell the stink of his sweaty
asshole and I fought against growing ill from it. I feared that vomiting
might have been fatal, caught in Bull's stranglehold.

       Renaldo emerged mostly erect and quickly took position and began
ramming his damp cock against my asshole.

       Bull hawked up and spit a mouthful of slobbery slime onto my arm and
it dribbled slowly down my bicep. He spit several more times on me,
apparently trying to get the Renaldo taste out of his mouth.

       "No, dammit!" I said defiantly to Renaldo. It didn't come out as
forceful as I meant it to because of Bull's grip restricting my
airflow. But my resolve was very strong. I'd lost too many things already,
but I was not going to give my virgin experience up to this demon. I
resolved myself that I was probably going to lose my life, but I was not
going to lose the choice of who could and who could not enter my body. This
was going to be my last stand. With all my might and intense concentration,
I clenched the ring around my anus defiantly shut.

       Renaldo pushed as hard as he could to force his angry boner into
me. The harder he pushed, the more I resisted. As we engaged in our
struggle, images of Dig pushing against my quivering ring, that night at
the bonfire, blazed into my memory. I'd actually been prepared back then to
reluctantly give up my virgin status in order to save Dig from making a big
mistake with Rochelle. Now, I was fighting to preserve myself from the same
sort of terrible invasion he'd seemed intent on inflicting on her. I felt
renewed compassion for her and understood better the immense appreciation
for my intervention. I clenched harder as Renaldo smeared his own blood
over his dick to act as a lubricant. I would not give in. As Renaldo
resumed his frantic, frustrated efforts to impale me, I resisted with a
renewed energy and forced my thoughts away from Dig and onto the
magnificent, loving experience that I'd shared with Scotty and what I had
planned for the future with him if, by some miracle, I lived through this.

       "Give me the bottle!" Renaldo screamed in frustration, anger, and
rage. One of the creeps holding my leg let go and scrambled away. When he
returned, he handed Renaldo a broken shard of glass that had been filed
down to a fine edge.

       "I underestimated you, Blanco. You really do have beeg balls, but
I'm going to change that right now." The black haired devil grabbed my
balls and sliced my sac open. It took a moment before I felt anything, but
once I did, I erupted with a garbled scream in horror at the concept of
losing my testicles. I thought about William's half empty sac and found
myself fulfilling Renaldo's prophecy by wishing I was dead.

       "Dear God," I said, "forgive me for the mistakes I've made. Please
bless my friends and my parents. Let this end."

       I heard a booming Baritone voice cry out, "NO MAS! NO CUT BALLS!!"
The grip on my neck was released and Bull flew over the top of me, tackling
Renaldo. Renaldo began cursing in Spanish and I heard Pablo's name over and
over. I assumed he was making threats to attempt to tame the raging
Bull. Bull flung Renaldo into the cage. The cage shuddered and rattled, and
then Bull lifted him effortlessly off the ground and literally threw him
like a plastic blow up doll across the room. Renaldo's head struck a bench
and he dropped lifeless to the floor. The other bangers made a brief, half
hearted attempt to take on Bull, but he kicked one in the groin so hard, I
fully expected that he would end up losing a testicle or two as well. He
screamed out in agonizing pain. The last one standing raised his hands in
surrender.

       Finally, the door popped open and the look of absolute shock on the
faces of the two guards as they surveyed the scene was almost
comical. They'd expected to find me bruised, abused, and bleeding but they
were not prepared for the rest of the carnage. I was squeezing my sliced up
scrotum to stem the flow of blood as it oozed between my fingers. I had no
idea whether or not he'd actually severed my testicles.

       One of the guards rushed to Renaldo and went ash grey as he
announced that he was dead. Jefe Lewis released a violent string of
profanity and then sensibly called for help. Before help arrived, they
tried to piece together a story of a general brawl. They each cut the other
with the sharpened glass shard and took turns smashing their own faces
against the metal cage and the benches to appear they had been in the
middle of the fight.

       By the time help arrived, the two were bleeding and looked as
battered as the rest of us. Only Bull and one gang member were not
seriously injured. Medical help was brought in, and I was taken by
ambulance to a nearby medical facility. I remember a young paramedic
holding a compress against my balls and the oxygen mask being strapped over
my face. The twists and turns made by the ambulance made me slightly
nauseous and I was glad when they pulled up under the well lit canopy of
the emergency room receiving area. The doors were pulled open and the
driver unclamped my gurney and jerked it out of the ambulance door with a
clatter. The legs dropped and locked into place and I was wheeled into the
emergency room.

       They transferred me to a hospital gurney and the paramedics shoved a
clipboard in an ER attendant's face and had me signed for like I was some
kind of Fedex package and then they rushed off. The guy holding the
pressure on my sliced up balls looked very happy to turn me over to the ER
nurse and get out of there. I was examined by a couple of medical people,
given a shot and drifted off to nothingness.

       When I woke up, there was a young cop sitting next to my bed. I was
desperately thirsty and asked for a drink. He stepped to the door and a
petite, blonde nurse came in to check on me and brought me a cup of ice
chips. That's all I was allowed to have initially. The cop, who had been
openly flirting with the pretty nurse, followed her out of my room when she
left. I wondered why he was there. I assumed, I must still be considered a
prisoner, or youth offender as they preferred to refer to us at Juvey. I
learned later that he was, in actuality, assigned to protect me in case of
attempted gang retribution. I think everyone was nervous about potential
liability for what had happened and they didn't want to chance any more
complications.

       With major trepidation, I reached down to feel for my balls. I
slipped my hand under the sheet and under the pale blue hospital gown that
was draped loosely over my naked body. My fingers were actually trembling
as I slid them down my rippled abs. I halted just above the point where my
dick protruded while my brain tried to process what was wrong. "No hair," I
muttered. I was completely shaved. I traced down until I felt the emerging
protrusion of the base of my now hairless dick. I moved from side to side,
only to encounter the baby face softness of naked, barren skin.

       I took my dick in my fingers and lifted it up and away from my
balls. Then I resumed my exploration of my scrotum. It was bandaged up near
the top of it, and I traced my fingers gingerly around the white tape that
was wound completely around the upper section of my sac, holding the gauze
in place. I moved cautiously downward until I found loose, naked skin. My
stomach knotted. I continued down until I found, to my great relief, two
large, and very tender, balls. I relaxed and breathed an enormous sigh of
relief. I left my hand resting on them lightly, just for reassurance, as I
drifted back into woozy slumber.

       I was awakened several times by nurses taking my vitals. Each time I
fell back asleep. Breakfast arrived and I managed to eat a bowl of cereal
and drink the juice. Nothing else looked even mildly appealing. I started
to ask the nurse about my balls, but she cut me off and said I should talk
about my condition with the doctor. That troubled me, making me assume the
worst.

       In the early afternoon , the attorney my father had arranged for,
arrived. He sat in the visitor chair, placed a recorder on my tray, and
commenced asking me questions. He first asked me a few general questions
about myself and what I was like as a student and about my interests. We
spoke for a while about wrestling since he had been a wrestler in High
School too. When I mentioned that I had some interest in becoming a lawyer,
he effused for ten solid minutes about how much he liked the
occupation. After that, he transitioned into questions about my experience
and probed for details along the way. I told him the complete truth about
the events as they had unfolded. When I mentioned the lie the guards came
up with at the end, he filled me in on the expanded lie concocted by the
guards.

       The attorney had receding, grey hair combed straight back. He wore
an expensive looking black suit and a conservative blue-grey necktie left
partially pulled down from the collar. He was chewing gum and the influence
of my mother in me wanted to chide him for it and suggest he spit it out. I
resisted saying anything, but it annoyed and distracted me some. He had a
voice as smooth as melting ice cream, and I think he could have gotten me
to confess to masterminding the 9-11 attacks if he had wanted to.

       "They claimed that they didn't know both you and Renaldo had been
given the same punishment detail of cleaning the showers at the same time,"
the attorney explained. "Apparently, that part of their story had already
been in place before they discovered the messy situation," my attorney
surmised. "They also claimed that they both foolishly left the room
together to gather up the cleaning supplies, against policy and
protocol. They said it was during this absence that Renaldo attempted to
rape you. They further claimed to have rushed back in when they heard the
commotion and were immediately attacked themselves. The story on Renaldo is
that he must have slipped in the melee and hit his head on the bench
through no one's fault but his own. His fellow home boys are saying the
same thing about that part and I'm not sure why, unless the guards
threatened them somehow. It's also possible that Renaldo wasn't all that
popular of a leader amongst the gang membership. I have a source who
suggested that, at least. Really, it works in everyone's favor if that
remains part of the story." The attorney gave me a questioning look and
asked, "That is how that part happened, right?"

       "Umm, yeah, right. What should I do about the rest of the guards'
story?" I asked. "Do I go along with them, or do I tell the truth?"

       "I recommend the truth."

       "What about Bull and Pablo?"

       "Both have been transferred out of the facility. They should be
safe," the attorney said to my relief, clearly understanding why I had
asked without me saying.

       "Bull saved my life. Do you know what Bull is saying about what
happened?"

       "No, I don't have any idea about him."

       "What's going to happen to me?"

       "When you're able, you will leave the hospital in the care of your
parents. I don't think it's a good idea for you to go home to your father's
house just in case there is some attempt at retaliation. The plan is for
you to go stay with your mother for a while."  My heart sank. As much as
that made sense, I hated hearing it. I considered it a transfer from one
prison to another, only with the threat of physical harm switched to that
of mental abuse.

       "So, I'm not a prisoner anymore?"

       "No. You're released and charges are dropped except for a
misdemeanor of driving without a license."

       "Why's the cop here then?"

       "They are worried about gang retaliation. This is a very dangerous
and powerful gang you've gotten mixed up with. They kill people for
sport. I asked for a cop to be here until you can go home and they readily
agreed."

       After my attorney was done speaking with me, a police detective
joined us. He sauntered in wearing a very cheap suit that might have been
purchased from a thrift store. His plaid tie didn't match his striped
jacket. It was, at least, tied up tightly against his thick neck. His belly
hung over his waistline and he had the annoying habit of tugging the
waistband up regularly. We had a long, long interview with my attorney
present. My attorney only restricted me from answering two questions, and I
told the whole story with one minor modification that caused my attorney to
smile slightly in the background. I told the detective that in the
confusion, I couldn't be sure how Renaldo fell and hit his head. I said, it
could have been one of the other gang members, or he could have just fallen
on his own. I didn't hold back about the smuggling operation, though, and I
told them exactly what Jefe Lewis and the escort guard were up to. I told
them where to find the stash of drugs in the cell behind the grate under
Renaldo's bed, and I thought the detective might actually wet himself with
excitement over that bit of information. He smiled, set down his notepad,
and did a two handed tug on his waistband.

       The detective thanked me and shook my hand. "Thanks for the
details. Keep your head down a while, okay. I'd like to see you keep
it. You seem like a decent kid." Turning to my attorney, he said, "If I
have more questions, I'll contact you first." He stood, tugged sharply all
around his sagging waistline and left.

       Shortly afterward, my father came in, looking downcast.

       "Hi Dad." I tried to sound cheerful for his sake.

       "Hello Kyle. What happened to staying out of trouble for just one
day?"

       "I know, but it wasn't my fault," I protested.

       "I know. I know. Trouble just seems to find you." He took my hand
and said, "You need to go with your mother for a while until we're sure
this whole thing has blown over. These are dangerous people that you've
crossed up with."

       I shook my head understandingly. "But only until it all blows over,
right? Not for too long, okay? Maybe we could just move somewhere together
where the gang wouldn't find us?"

       "No, it's best that you go with your mom for now."

        "All right, but promise me it's only temporary?

       "I promise. I told you before, I'll always be there for you."

       "Is she mad?"

       "Mad doesn't even begin to describe it. She is fuming at me. She
blames me and rightfully so."

       "Why? It's not your fault. I'm the one who took the car and started
this whole mess."

       "Yes, but I should have been there for you and not left you on your
own so much." He sat down in the visitor chair and sighed deeply.

       "No dad. Mom should have stayed home and been there for both of
us. I really don't want to live with her. You know what she's like. She'll
drive me crazy and try to run every little detail in my life. I promise I
won't be a problem anymore. No more crusades for me. Of all of us, Dad,
you're the least to blame. I just wish you hadn't been in surgery when the
police called and you could have rescued me from Juvenile Hall." Dad
shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Then he slid it closer and he reached
out and took my hand in his again and looked me in the eye. He started
rubbing his neck with the other hand and that always meant something bad
was coming.

       With an obvious nervousness, totally uncharacteristic of my father,
he said, "I wasn't in surgery. I spoke to the police when they called the
hospital. When I heard the story, I was angry with you. I was especially
bothered that they mentioned how you told them about an out of control
party at our house and that you were found with a trunk full of liquor. You
promised me it was just a couple of friends coming over and I had trusted
you. Instead, I imagined you hosting a wild, drunken party. Of course, at
the time, I didn't know it was my liquor in your trunk. I also didn't get
all the details straight about what you and Scotty had been up to and ..."
He looked away. "I had no idea what Juvenile Hall would be like. I asked
the police not to tell you that they spoke to me. I just thought going to
Juvenile Hall might scare you into thinking through things a little better
if you ... I'm sorry, Kyle. I'm so sorry."

       The realization dawned on me and I pulled my hand free of his. "Are
you saying that you chose not to come for me? You let them put me in
Juvey?"

       Dad nodded slowly and apologetically. He opened his mouth to say
something in his defense but nothing came out.  I also lay there in
speechless disappointment. After a very uncomfortable pause, he said, "I
agreed to press charges. No, to be truthful, I insisted on pressing charges
for the stolen car and have you sent to Juvenile Hall in order to try and
teach you a lesson. If I'd known, I never... never."

       I started to hyperventilate. My tender windpipe constricted again,
almost as if Bull had his strong forearm pressed into it. "Then ... why
... didn't you ... take me home ... yesterday ... when you visited me? None
of this ... would have happened ... if you had?" I had to force the words
out.

       "I wanted to, but it turns out that it was a lot easier getting you
in than getting you out. I couldn't get anything done until today about
getting you released."

       "How could you do that? How could you think I deserved to go to
Juvey? I'm not a bad kid; everything I've done has been trying to help
someone else. Why would you let them send me there? I could have been
killed and it's just lucky I wasn't. If Bull hadn't changed his mind about
helping attack me when Renaldo tried to hack off my balls, I'd be fucking
dead now, and it would be your fault! How could you?" I was red faced and
angry and shaken to my core. I'd been thrown to the wolves by my own
father. He was supposed to protect me and love me, but he betrayed me. I
looked him straight in the face and said in a stern tone, "Go away."

       "Kyle, please don't. Don't hate me."

       "I don't hate you; I just want you to go away. I want to be alone."

       "Kyle. Please."

       "GO AWAY!" I winced in pain at the overuse of my injured throat. He
pushed away from my bed and walked out dejected, shoulders slumped, head
bowed, wiping at his eyes.

       I looked for something to throw at the door when it closed but there
was nothing handy besides my urinal bottle. It was about a quarter full,
but I didn't even hesitate. I threw it with all my might at the door, and
then I just pounded my fists furiously into the mattress which caused my
sore balls to ache from the jostling. Such began the greatest loss of all
my many losses I'd endured. Our relationship would never be the same from
that moment on.

       Tears streamed unchecked as the anger turned to sadness and self
pity. Over and over, I played it out in my head. He sent me there. He sent
me there on purpose. He sent me there to suffer and almost die. How could
he send me there on purpose? None of it needed to happen. I could have gone
home just like Scotty did with his parents who loved him and loved each
other, but no. He tried to teach me a lesson. Everyone's so intent on
teaching me lessons I don't need to learn. Why won't they just leave me
alone? So much for never abandoning me, I thought. As bad as I hated the
thought of going to stay with my mother, I felt it was better than staying
with him now. The level of betrayal I felt was overwhelming. I thought I
should pray, but I'd also felt a little abandoned by God lately. He hadn't
exactly spared me either. A guilty pang shot through my mind accompanied by
the words, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, my child."

       The nurse walked in just then and took one look at me and grew
concerned. Then she noticed the mess on the floor. "Are you all right? Are
you in pain? What happened in here?"

       "My balls hurt, and my throat does too. I'm sorry about the mess, I
got sorta mad and threw my bottle in anger. It was stupid of me. I'm sorry,
I'll clean it up."

       "You're not allowed out of bed just yet. Don't even try to get
up. Next time, try to find a less messy way to express your anger, all
right?" She was unbelievably calm over the mess I'd made.

       "I'll get you something for the pain. Can you swallow a pill or do
you prefer an injection into your IV?"

       "I think I can swallow." I was sad and sullen and it invoked
sympathy from the nurse in spite of the mess I'd made. When she left, I
noticed that the cop was still sitting outside my door. She must have told
him what I'd done because he opened my door and peeked in then looked at me
oddly. She quickly returned along with a cleaning person who had to mop up
my spilled piss off the floor.  I took the pill and had to try three times
to get it down. Each time it reached the back of my throat, I gagged it
back up. When it did go down, it felt like I'd swallowed a walnut. I
decided to take the injection next time it was offered. I drifted off to
welcome, yet fitful, sleep soon after taking the pill.

       When I woke, I was in the presence of angels. Scotty, William and
Brenda were there. Brenda was sitting in the chair and William and Scotty
were standing beside my bed. William was chatting about his testicle
removal operation and giving way more detail than was comfortable,
especially in the presence of Brenda. Brenda didn't seem to be bothered by
it at all, however. "Hi guys."

       "Kyle, how are you feeling, dude?" Scotty asked, moving to my
bedside.

       "Not too bad, really.  I should be out of here in time for the Fall
Formal for sure. Wow, I can't even tell you how happy I am to see you
guys. Thank you for coming." I had to try and wipe at my eyes without being
too obvious about it.

       "I'm just glad you're around to be seen. It sounds like you went
through hell. Your dad kind of filled me in," Scotty said. "I was terrified
for you."

       "Oh, do you in actuality anticipate an ability to attend and
participate in the Fall Formal?" William asked, glomming on to that tidbit
of reference by me.

       "I don't see why not. I should be well enough in a week. By the way,
how are the decorations working out?"

       Brenda perked up and said, "Wonderfully. Everyone's excited about
having their pictures on the walls. The tulle is wonderful, we already hung
three runners of it to test it out and with the twinkling Christmas lights,
it's honestly like you're outside looking at the night sky. I didn't want
to help with the decorations at first, but I'm so glad you got us into
it. I can't wait for the dance." She stood up and walked over to William
and slipped her hand in his. He went a pale crimson and then smiled at
me. I was warmed by her expression toward him and wondered what prompted
it.

       "If your incapacitation persists, I am fully understanding and
withdraw my expectations that you attend with me. I am not afraid of being
there without you as long as I am with Brenda. I find her to be quite
compatible and comfortable to be with."

       "That's wonderful. I'm seriously very happy for you guys." I smiled
at the two of them.

       "William is very nice. He treats me wonderfully and I love how
absolutely open and honest he is. It's refreshing in this artificial world
full of pretense," Brenda said.

       "So you two are like a couple?"

       Brenda smiled and shrugged and William wrinkled his brow and said,
"A couple of what?"

       "No, I mean like you're boyfriend and girlfriend?"

       "Oh, we are indeed friends, and yes of course, I am a boy and she is
a girl. That seems rather obvious." Everyone gave a short chuckle over his
innocent remark. The look he gave me left me uncertain if he was messing
with me or if he really hadn't understood. That happened a lot with him and
I do sometimes think he purposely messes with my head. Then he launched
directly into his next thought train to leave the station and asked me,
"When the boy in your prison sliced your scrotum, did he sever your vas
deferens?"

	I shook my head and blushed. "Honestly, I don't know. I haven't
spoken to a doctor yet. I guess I was asleep when he came in to check on me
this morning. I don't think they were cut off."

	"Did you retain both of your testicles then?" William pressed on.

	"Umm, William, maybe we should talk about something else while
Brenda is in the room."

	William looked at her and said, "She doesn't mind. I have given her
a detailed explanation regarding the excision of my testicle. She is also
quite fully versed in the male anatomy being the older sister of two
younger brothers whose diapers she has changed and who she has bathed
regularly."

	"You know, maybe I will step out for a minute and let you guys
chat," she said, squeezing William's hand and then slipping free of it. She
came to my bedside and took my hand and said, "Get better quick. I'm so
glad nothing worse happened to you. You're a good person. I love how kind
you are to William." Her kind smile and gentle touch was indeed angel-like.

	"Thanks."

        She stepped out.

	"Man, I gotta piss so bad. That IV's gone straight to my
bladder. William, will you hand me the piss bottle please?" William lifted
the replacement bottle, the nurse had left for me, off the rail and passed
it to me. He launched into a description of the male urinary tract and
bladder system and trailed off wondering how girls urinated in the hospital
without a penis to direct the flow. I suggested he look it up on the
internet when he got home, and he made a mental note to do just that. I
finished and shook the last drops into the bottle, capped it, and William
took it from me to hang up. I nearly filled it 3/4 full and was worried it
might overflow. "Whew, I feel better, Thanks."

	Neither guy could resist the temptation to gawk at my naked groin
and bandaged balls, and I felt a little self conscious about filling the
bottle with an audience. Since they both had not only seen me naked before
but had touched me, it was less disturbing. Still, I was unavoidably
embarrassed by it slightly. After I hung my bottle, and before I pulled the
covers back up, William leaned over my crotch and began closely inspecting
my injured area. "Your bandaging suggests a significantly different injury
from mine. It was completely improper for him to slice your scrotum. Proper
removal of the testicles should occur with an incision in this locale."
William traced the spot just to the side of my limp dick where his scar is
located from his operation.

	"Yeah, well the guy cutting on me wasn't exactly board certified."

	Scotty laughed but William looked at me quizzically.

	William reached out without asking and fingered both of my
testicles. "It appears that if your vas deferens were severed, the surgeon
successfully reattached them, which is most fortuitous."

	"Yeah, definitely fortuitous." He let go of my balls and I pulled
the covers back up to my chest.

	"Dude, no offense, but you look funny without any pubes. You look
like an oversized twelve year old."

	"It feels strange too. You know about it, don't you William?"

	"Yes. I must forewarn you, it is exceptionally itchy there when the
hair initially regenerates."

	"So tell us all the gruesome details, dude." Scotty pleaded. "I was
so freaking worried about you. I felt like I was abandoning you when I left
with my parents and felt bad about it, but there was nothing I could
do. When your dad came and talked to me and my parents about what had gone
down and told us you'd actually gone to Juvenile Hall, I could hardly sleep
afterward. Like I knew that lady cop said you would but I couldn't really
believe it." Scotty stepped in closer where Brenda had been standing, and I
began my blow by blow description of my harrowing tale for the third
time. I began where Scotty left me behind at the police station. I told
them all about Pablo and Bull. They wanted detailed descriptions of the
facility and the people. They wanted to know about what I was feeling along
the way and I told them I was scared to death. Then, I told them about the
initial shower experience and the inner probing of my anus and the drug
smuggling operation.

	"Oh my God, are you telling me that some guard actually has to fish
up inside the buttholes of every kid that goes into Juvey?" Scotty asked.

	"Yeah, sick, isn't it?

	"That belongs on America's dirtiest jobs, only they couldn't air
the episode on regular TV, at least not during Prime Time. I wonder if they
take turns or if like the newest guy there gets stuck with that duty?"
Scotty was laughing incredulously.

	"To be honest, I think this asshole volunteered for it. For one
thing, he was on the take, getting bribes to look the other way when stuff
was getting smuggled in. But I even think he liked doing it because when he
did me, he spent a long time examining my dick and balls and even had to
adjust the boner in his pants after he checked me out."

       Then, of course, I described the lunchroom fight and ended my story
with the shower brawl.

	"Scotty," I said earnestly, "I didn't let him fuck me. I refused to
let him in. I wanted to save that for ..." I realized William was there,
and I almost let the cat, so to speak, out of the bag. If William caught
on, he didn't show it. I continued, "Anyway, the harder he tried, the more
I concentrated on clenching my ass ring shut and keeping him out. He got so
frustrated and pissed off that it sent him into a rage. That's when he
decided to try and cut my balls off to get even and make an example out of
me. God, it was so scary. I got a little taste of what you must have gone
through William. I know this sounds crazy, but the idea of losing my balls
was almost scarier than expecting to lose my life."

	"Did you pray?" William asked.

	"You know I did, but the only time I really felt anything like God
was hearing me was when I prayed for your safety or for Pablo and
Bull. When I prayed for myself, I got nothing."

	"You prayed for me? Why?" William asked.

	"To keep you safe from those creeps that took your old man. By the
way, have you heard from him?"

	"No. Neither my mother nor I have received any communication
regarding his whereabouts or condition. It is highly disconcerting."

	"Disconcerting? Why? I think you'd be glad to be rid of him after
what he'd been doing to you."

	"Yes. In multiple aspects, our lives are improved without his
presence, but I wish no harm or evil upon him. I am somewhat lonely when
mother is working her second job at nights."

	 "I can understand that. We'll just have to hang out more in the
evenings, I guess." William brightened with that idea and agreed that would
be a wonderful plan. "I just don't know how long I'm gonna have to be at my
mom's place."

	"We'll miss you at school. I'm glad to hear you're still planning
on going to the Fall Formal. What with you changing schools and all, I
didn't know if you'd still go." Scotty said.

	"What do you mean?" I asked.

	"You know, since you're gonna be going to some private school, I
didn't know if you'd still go to the Fall Formal."

	"What private school? What are you talking about?" I was totally
confused.

	"Uh-oh. I bet I wasn't supposed to say anything." Scotty looked
like a cat that'd just swallowed the canary.

	"Are you kidding me? Now they're plotting about sending me to
another school without even talking to me? That's seriously messed up. I
bet my mom's behind that one. I wish everyone would just stop meddling in
my life and trying to do what they think is best for me. I'm so fucking
sick of it." I saw William's scowl and added, "Sorry, I mean freaking sick
of it."

	"Don't rat me out that I spilled the beans, okay? I don't want your
parents pissed off at me or anything." Scotty requested.

	"Don't worry, I won't tell it was you. Actually, I'm gonna bait
them and start talking about how excited I am to go back to school just to
see their reaction before I tell them it isn't happening. This is a load of
bullshit. I'm not leaving the wrestling team or the debate team."

	William suddenly realized the impact of what Scotty was talking
about and said, "If you transfer to a private school, that would mean we
will no longer be debate partners. That is completely unacceptable. You
must most assuredly dissuade your mother from taking such a course of
action."

	"Trust me, I will. But think about it, William. If I did transfer
out, you'd be partners with Brenda."

	He stared at me, mulling that over and then after a lengthy and
amusing pause said, "I'd still prefer you stayed. I think." We all laughed,
even William.

	Brenda stuck her head in and said, "William, I need to be
going. Are you coming with me or will you find another way home?"

	William became visibly excited and said, "I wish to return with
you." He started toward the door and then turned back. "Wait, I nearly
forgot." He came up to my bedside and fished something out of his
pocket. It was my Screw Crew mood ring. "Hold out your finger."

	William slipped it on my right hand ring finger and said, "If you
get scared, just rub it and it will change color then you will know that I
am thinking about you and praying for you. It really helps."

	I choked up. "Thanks buddy. You're great." He looked a bit awkward
and shuffled his feet a bit then stuck his hand out to shake it. I took his
hand and pulled him down to me and gave him a hug. He stiffened at first,
but then relaxed and hugged me back. With a look that said more than words
ever could, he backed slowly from my bed then turned to hurry off with
Brenda.

	"You gotta love that kid, don'tcha?" Scotty asked.

	"Yeah. He's so genuine and innocent. Too bad we all aren't a little
more like him." Then I reached for Scotty's hand and he took it. "Someone
else I gotta love is you. I was so afraid I'd never see you again. I
thought we'd never get to share any more special moments together or that
you'd never get to be inside me like we have planned or hold me or kiss
your soft lips again." I didn't even try to hide the dampness in my eyes.

	Scotty swallowed hard and was fighting tears himself. "I know. When
I heard what happened, I was sick. I mean, I literally got sick over it."

	"Kiss me," I whispered. Scotty leaned down and pressed his lips
against mine. It was a symphony of sensations. I smelled his cologne and
tasted his soft lips. He slipped his hand under my neck and I suckled on
his bottom lip. My eyes were closed and I was transported to a beautiful
place. Brilliant sparkling colors danced behind my eyelids as we
kissed. Slowly, my penis twitched, then slid gracefully up along my thigh
past the abdominal crease, until it was standing fully erect sending small
tremors over the surface of the bed sheet. I was free, and I was safe, and
I was in the embrace of my Scotty. We broke our kiss and he stared lovingly
into my eyes. "Thank you God," I whispered "for saving me." A warm tingle
radiated through me.

	He closed his eyes and kissed me again, slowly tracing the tip of
his artful tongue over my quivering lips. His hand bravely slipped beneath
the covers and my gown and slid gently over the engorged tip of my
twitching dick. He caressed the full length of my dick and back up again
tracing slowly around and around the ridge of my overheated head, strained
to its capacity from the blood rushing into it. I whimpered in ecstatic
anticipation muffled by my lover's lips pressed to my own. I took his face
between my palms and took control of the kissing, pressing and relaxing
alternatively as I slid our noses from side to side.

	When I felt his hand slip around the full length of my penis and
begin its upward motion, I immediately cascaded over the waterfall's edge
into powerful orgasmic spasms. Pent-up sexual needs and intense emotional
love for Scotty combined to evoke an immense eruption. I felt his lips curl
into a knowing smile as the first gush of boy love hit the sheet and
spilled over his thumb onto my barren pubic mound. He slowly and gently
milked me to a satisfying conclusion. Scotty had just begun tracing small
circles over my barren, slippery mound when my door handle clattered.

	In a nervous panic, we broke our kiss and Scotty jerked his hand
from under my sheet. He waved it uncertainly in the air a bit trying to
figure out what to do with the essence of Kyle coating his thumb. He moved
toward my sheet, then his armpit, then just stuck it in his mouth and
quickly lapped it clean turning away from the door as he did. Then, he
stuck his hand in his pocket.

       I reached down and grabbed the pale blue blanket and pulled it
quickly up over the large wet spot on the sheet. The sexual discharge
hadn't hurt me at all but the hurried bending at the waist to grab the
sheet sent a painful shock through my groin. We were both fighting off
nervous laughter as the intern doctor walked in followed by my mother. I
freaked out. The smell of my cum was overpowering and even overwhelmed the
sterile cleaning solution odor of the hospital room. I was mortified.

       Scotty smiled politely and moved aside as the doctor approached
me. Scotty greeted my mother who merely glared at him without even
acknowledging the greeting. He stepped further away and stuck his other
hand in his pockets, locking his elbows and forcing his shoulders into a
sort of shrug.

       "How's the patient? You were sleeping pretty soundly this morning
when I came by," the young looking doctor said.

       "I'm fine."

       "Oh for heaven's sake, Kyle, tell the truth for once. You can't
possibly be fine considering what you have been through. He can't help you
if you don't tell him the truth."

       "Nice to see you too, mom," I said sharply. She clucked her tongue
at me and moved in closer.

       "Let's take a look." The doctor took the blanket and sheet in his
hands and I grabbed at them, holding them up. He looked at me
questioningly.

       "Not in front of my mom."

       "Oh goodness, since when did you become shy? I used to change your
diapers. You certainly haven't got anything down there I haven't seen
before.  I want to hear what the doctor has to say so let go and allow him
to examine you."

       I tightened my grip and the doctor relaxed his grip, uncertain how
to proceed. I lifted the covers and allowed him a peek without my mother's
ability to see. Instant understanding came over his expression and he
struggled against a smile. "I think it is best if I examine your son in
private. I'll call you in and discuss all of my findings with you when I'm
finished." He said it in such a no-nonsense tone of voice that my mother
didn't even argue with him. I was amazed by that and wondered if I could
learn how to do that.

       "Yeah, well I really gotta get going too." Scotty said. I'll see you
later. Get better, okay?"

       "You don't have to leave. Just hang out until the doctor's done."

       "No, I really do need to go. I'll be back." He added a goodbye to my
mother who mumbled something back without looking at him. She stood by my
bedside with her arms crossed until the doctor looked at her and gave a
firm nod toward the door. She grunted and wheeled around. When the door
latched shut behind her, he retrieved a wash cloth from a drawer and
dampened it with warm water. He put on rubber gloves and pulled the sheet
and blanket free of my sticky groin. He tossed the damp cloth on my groin
and smiled at me.

       "Well," he said as he watched me clean myself up, "I guess that
answers whether or not they still function properly. Was the experience
pleasurable or painful?"

       "Pleasurable," I squeaked out flush with embarrassment.

       "Good." He cut the tape, removed the bandage and gauze then
carefully inspected the stitches that ran fully halfway around my sac.  "I
don't think you'll have any permanent damage here except for a nice scar to
show off. It could make for a good pickup line for you, 'Hey good looking,
wanna see my scar?'" He continued to tease with me as he finished his exam.

       "I'll call your mother back in now." He stepped out and returned
with my mom. He stepped to my bedside and set his hand on my bedrail. "Kyle
is doing well. The wound to his scrotum is stitched and looks good. There
was no apparent damage to his testicles or the vas deferens cord that
attaches them. He will be fine. The only possible concern is infection and
we have him on some strong antibiotic which he will need to continue when
he goes home. As for his throat, I have given orders for a solution for him
to gargle with that will help it heal. I don't anticipate any permanent
damage to it, but if the soreness doesn't diminish in the next week, we'll
need to do some further testing."

       "When can I take him home?" Mom asked.

       "I think tomorrow as long as no infection develops."

       "I have a school dance on Saturday night and I'm on the decorating
committee. It'll be okay for me to go to that won't it?"

       The doctor chuckled. "I don't think dancing would be a good idea
that soon, but attending should be okay."

       My mother jumped in, "Well you can just forget about that. You won't
be going."

       "What? Why? I'm committed to the decorating committee. I have to
go."

       "What you have to do is what I tell you. Things will be different
when you live with me.  You won't be doing what you want to do, you'll be
doing what I say you'll do. And you won't be going to any school dance and
that's final."

       "Well, unless you have any more questions, I'll leave you to your
reunion." The doctor leaned in close, raised his eyebrows and mouthed the
words, "Good luck with her." Then he said out loud, "I'm going to tell you
something I've never told another patient before - I hope you come again."
He smiled widely, winked and gave my mother a polite nod as he whisked past
her and out of the room.

       "How odd," my mother said staring after him. "How very odd."

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

I welcome and appreciate your comments. I especially appreciate the comment
by DJ who helped me make a needed adjustment and strengthen the story
line. I also appreciate the encouragement and assistance of my
editors. h.schreiber@hushmail.com