Date: Fri, 03 Oct 2003 12:27:14 -0400 From: Tom Cup <tom_cup@hotmail.com> Subject: Stephen Miller's Journal by Tom Cup - Chapter 3- A/Y, Incest Copyright 2000 - 2003 by the Paratwa Partnership: A Colorado Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive, Florissant, CO 80816 This is a fictional story involving alternative sexual relationships. If this type of material offends you, please do not read any further. This material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names, characters, locations and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ************************************************************************ What's New at TomCup.com? 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Check it out at http://www.tomcup.com! ************************************************************************ Stephen Miller's Journal By Tom Cup Chapter 3 Pacts I shut my eyes to the warmth of Robby's body but I could not stop my body from feeling the heat of his body as he slid against me. His soft lips enveloping my ear, his tongue and teeth licking and pulling at my lobes as his hands busied themselves unclothing me. I didn't assist him, nor did I resist him, but I basted in the expert tenderness that he displayed. I gasped as he tongued and nibbled on my nipples. In that brief gasp was the question as to how he had learned to deliver such pleasure, but the question was forgotten as the warm flesh of his hand cupped my ball sac, kneading them and sending tingling waves rushing up to meet the cascading pleasure being produced in my nipples. My belly trembled. My cock squeezed upon itself, cooling its rising temper by explicating its clear ointment. I could have never imagined a more pleasurable and erotic moment. I could never have imagined that any thirteen-year-old could have mastered the techniques for bringing one to the pinnacle of pleasure while keeping the recipient from plunging over the precipice of orgasm, but that was exactly the magic that Robby worked. My body responded to his every touch. My chest heaved. My legs parted on cue. His mouth cooled for a moment the burning hotness of my penis, replacing it with fleshy pressure. His hands worked a massaging rhythm on the mounds of my buttocks, beckoning my penis to dance in his mouth. My orgasm came not as an uncontrolled disaster in a frenzy to maintain control but as the conclusion of all my expectation of sexual bliss. I was taken to the top of the mountain of ecstasy, taught to fly and then brought back safely to the ground -- placed loving in the cradle of infant afterglow. I wept for the beauty of what Robby had done to me. It was only after a few moments that I realized my selfishness -- such a gift must be reciprocated. I opened my eyes to find Robby getting dressed. I began trying to express what I was feeling; I wanted him to understand. He smiled lovingly at me as a mother might smile at a child that has done well. "Its OK Stephen," He whispered, "We mustn't be rude. There are other guests to attend too." He turned, adjusted his girlish costume once more, and left the room. ***** I returned to the party fifteen to twenty minutes after Robby. This was indeed a conscious decision. I wanted to place some time between what had transpired between Robby and I, and I needed time to think. How could I ever leave Dr. Ritten's employ knowing the pleasures that his son could produce. Even as I got dressed I longed again for his touch. I longed for him to teach me how to fully receive what he had to offer and how to return it in kind. I wanted to feel guilty about the encounter, truly I did, but the radiance of the experience would not succumb to the shadow of guilt. I watched Robby for the rest of the night. I wasn't the only person he disappeared with that night. I counted at least four others before Dr. Ritten caught my attention. "Having a good time?" He asked. "Oh," I said startled as Robby led another costumed figure toward his room, "Yes sir. It's quite a party." "We do love good parties," he responded following my eyes toward Robby's disappearance, "He's quite a boy, wouldn't you say?" "Oh, yes sir. They both are." He smiled and patted me on the back. "I think you will fit in nicely here Stephen," he said and turned to greet another costumed guest. I watched as Dr. Ritten bent a listening ear, rubbed the man's back, and then threw his head back in a gregarious laugh. They left together to enter the study. Dr. Ritten stopped before disappearing inside, turned and winked at me. I was more curious than ever about the study, about what was happening there. The study had been the catalyst for my interlude with Robby. I watched as several other people entered and exited. "You're Stephen right?" One of the men I had seen exiting the study approached me. "Yes...yes sir." "Oh you can drop the sir thing. We are all friends here. Just call me Kyle," he said extending his hand. "Oh, OK. Nice to meet you Kyle." "And you. Dr. Ritten certainly knows how to throw a mean party," he said with a wink. I agreed and Kyle moved closer to me putting his hand on my back. I was a bit alarmed by the intimacy of his touch but did not pull away, afraid of offending one of the host's guests. Maybe that wasn't the only reason. Maybe it was the earlier experience with Robby. Maybe it was the party atmosphere. Maybe it was the curiosity of the Study. Maybe it was all of them. Whatever it was I found myself sitting alone with Kyle in the backyard garden pavilion with his hand on my thigh. "You don't mind do you?" Kyle asked as his hand slowly moved up and down my thigh. I didn't and told him so. We were only a short distance from the house but the Spruce were arranged as to cover our presence. A gentle breeze swayed the trees in a hypnotic dance. The stars twinkled in the crisp night sky. I closed my eyes and thought of Robby, as Kyle kneeling before me, carried me once more to the mountain of ecstasy. ***** November 1, 1992 I awakened to find the house in a flurry of activity. A cleaning team was busy clearing away the evidence of the night's festivities. Jon and Robby had breakfast ready and were smiling because Dr. Ritten had given them permission to stay home from school. I, on the other hand, had classes to attend. I was sorrowful and relieved -- knowing I would not be able to spend time with the boys and that it would give me time to think about what had transpired the night before. "Don't pout Stephen," Robby whispered as he hugged me, "There will be other times that we'll get to spend together." Jon also hugged me that morning. It was the first show of open physical affection that the boys had shown me since my arrival. I sighed deeply and couldn't resist mussing Robby's hair before I left. My studies went poorly. I found myself distracted; my mind returned again and again to Robby, Kyle and of course the Study. It became uncertain to me whether Dr. Ritten could have been ignorant of the sexual activity that transpired at his parties. It seemed that he encouraged the activity, planned for it and promoted it. I had heard of underground sex parties and clubs of that nature but I couldn't understand him allowing his children to be present. Surely he knew that Robby and Jon would become aware of the nature of the parties and would become active participants. I reasoned that that was why he invited boys of their respective ages but then ruled that out, thinking that the other boys' parents would report the activities to the authorities if they found out what was happening at the Ritten house. The more I thought about the matter, the more confused I became until finally I assumed that I was wrong all together. It was impossible that Dr. Ritten would be involved in promoting a sex club that involved kids, especially his kids. I needed to forget the foolishness of my thoughts, count it as wishful thinking, and return to the job I was being paid to do -- watch over his boys as a live-in nanny. The problem facing me, with trembling hands, as I returned from school was how to discourage Robby while keeping him from telling his father what happened between us the night before. It was a daunting task. I was eighteen and had had sex with a thirteen-year-old boy. No matter how it began, I was responsible. I knew that and was sure that Robby understood the fact also. If I approached the matter in the wrong way, I knew I would at the very least be fired; at the most my college career would be ended with a jail term. ********* "Why do you think that Dad would be mad?" Robby asked with his legs swinging causally off the edge of my bed. I thought that bringing him to my room would give me control over our private conversation but he took control by refusing to sit at my small dinette table. He ignored my pleas and instead walked into my bedroom, hopped on my bed, patting it to encourage me to sit beside him. I refused and stood with my back leaning against the doorframe. "Because it's wrong," I managed trying to will myself to stop thinking about the pleasure the boy produced in me the night before. I tried to think of dead puppies, aborted fetuses and hundreds of the most disgusting images I could bring into mind. Nothing worked. I was still becoming aroused. "Says who?" Robby asked tilting his head provocatively. "Come on Robby! You are not stupid. You know I could get in a lot of trouble for what happened." "First," Robby said suddenly sitting seriously upright, "It's none of anyone else's fucking business what I do with my own body. Second, the only way you will get in trouble for anything that happens in this house is if you tell someone. Are you going to tell?" I was stunned by the seriousness of his question and demeanor. He seemed not only angry at my question but at the possibility that I might betray his trust, and his family. "No I won't say anything," I said feeling chastened. He eyed me suspiciously for a moment before his body resumed its playful movements, legs once again swinging freely; he relaxed with his elbows on the bed and smiled. "OK," he said, "What happens in this house stays in this house. No worries." I felt dizzy. I wanted him to make a pact with me, and indeed he had but on his terms not on mine. Robby lay back on my bed and invited me once more to join him. I was trembling. I could not control anything that would happen from that day forward. In the pact of silence I made with my thirteen-year-old ward I was agreeing to sell my soul, to become a slave to the pleasure that he could provide. Yes, I agreed and we consummated the pact. ***** I listened as Jon and Robby laughed in the next room. Soon the laughter died down and the squeaking of the bed began. They were no longer hiding their sexual activities from me and I was no longer upset by the noise. How could I blame Jon for indulging in the pleasures that Robby could produce? The jealousy that I had once felt for not having a brother of my own resurfaced but it was tempered by the knowledge that I was sharing Robby with Jon. I smiled at the thought and joined their squeaking unashamedly, adding to the sounds they were making, and spilling my orgasm as I heard Jon cry out. ***** The knock on the door startled me. I had fallen asleep. I closed the Personalities in Psychology book that I had been reading and called for whomever it was to come in. It was Jon. "Hi," he said cheerfully. "Hey," I answered placing the book on my nightstand, "What time is it?" "Little after 10:30." "God," I yawned, "I must have dozed off." "Pretty boring stuff," he said picking up the psychology book, eyeing it and replacing it on the table. "Yeah," I agreed and asked, "Isn't it late for you to be up on a school night?" "Yeah, I just wanted to talk a little." "OK." "It's about Robby. He likes you. I just want to make sure you aren't going to hurt him." My mouth dropped opened. Jon seemed amused by my reaction but soon realized I was terrified. "Hey, it's cool Stephen but you have to realize he's my little brother," he explained, "He tells me everything. Besides, we knew you'd get off on hearing us get it on in the other room. We knew about you on the first day." "What do you mean?" "You know how many sitters we've had? Enough to know when it's cool to be ourselves and when it's not. We can tell when guys might want to screw around with us or when they might just let us get away with it or when they're going to take the job so seriously that they'll want us to be what they think we should be." "You knew from the moment you saw me, yeah right." "No, but you didn't come into my room that first night and tell us to knock it off. In fact you handled the next day pretty cool too. Otherwise you wouldn't still be here." "You're saying..." "I'm saying you passed the first tests and for that you got sucked off by Robby last night and this afternoon. My mouth dropped opened. Jon smiled. "So the light is going on, eh? Cool. You keep playing along Stephen and I promise this will be the best job of your life," he said picking up the book once more and tossing it to me, "In more ways than one believe me. My little brother is good but I taught him everything he knows." He winked at me, smiled and left me alone with the possibilities. ************************************************************************ Send comments to: comments@tomcup.com To support this and other stories by the author, join at http://www.tomcup.com. If you like this story, check out Tom Cup's "Calvin: A Coming of Age Story." Available at Barnes and Nobles Bookstores, Amazon.com, your local independent bookseller, or get a signed copy from Tom Cup.com.