Date: Tue, 11 May 1999 16:10:36 -0700 (PDT)
From: Cory DePalma <cory1040@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Chicagoland Boy" (Teen/Boy)

Here's the Usual Stuff: If you don't like teen/boy sex, get your scabby ass
outta here.  Blue noses shouldn't even be at this web site and if you're
under age (18 or 21 depending on your locale) your eyes shouldn't even see
this sortta stuff - you know that you'll surely go blind or maybe even
worse.  So get the hell outta here!  Understand?  Oh!  And if you do read
it, please send me an e-mail.  I'm at cory1040@yahoo.com and I appreciate
all mail.

			     CHICAGOLAND  BOY
			     By  Cory DePalma

   Copyright 1999 by Corrado Vincenzo DePalma, Jr. - All Rights Reserved

Please Note This Very Carefully: The author retains all rights to this
story.  You cannot distribute this story, put it on another web site and/or
display this story without the written consent and permission of the
author.
      ---------------------------------------------------------------

				 Chapter 1

Our plane was making its landing into O'Hare during a rather heavy
snowstorm.  It had been a real white-knuckle flight all the way from
St. Louis; there was terrible visibility and tremendous turbulence.  The
flight would normally take under an hour; it would normally be a very
simple takeoff followed by a quick landing.  This particular time it took
well over an hour in the air.

It was the day after Christmas and I was accompanying my parents on a
business trip - not my business but theirs.  I had not wanted to come to
Chicago with them this time.  I knew all about the terrible winter weather
- wind, snow and worse.  I had been here many times before and really loved
the city - the great architecture, the wonderful restaurants and the whole
ambiance of a bustling, thriving, throbbing big city!

The reason I decided to go along was that after five days in Chicago we
would be going to our winter place in St. Maartens down in the Caribbean.
As the plane touched down, we all said a small prayer of thanksgiving.

The limo ride from the airport to The Drake was no better than the flight.
The roads were snow covered and the traffic crawled along the freeways.
When we finally arrived at the hotel we received excellent treatment, which
was only what my father and mother had come to expect.  We were whisked to
our suite; it was incredibly large, sumptuous and beautiful.  It had three
bedrooms, a very large and elegant living/reception/sitting room, a dining
room, a kitchen/breakfast area, five bathrooms and a maid's room.  There
were five separate entrances to the rooms of the suite and this after a
single guarded entrance.  It was magnificent.

I checked out my bedroom and bath; they were exceptional.  The bathroom in
particular was spectacular, complete with bidet, Jacuzzi, separate glassed
in shower, telephone (private line) and every creature comfort imaginable
in a bathroom.  It even included a bar; I guess there are people who like
to drink in the bathroom.  The bedroom could easily sleep a family of eight
in some third- world country.  It was gorgeous with a working fireplace and
a view looking north so that I could see Lake Shore Drive and Lake
Michigan.  I flopped down on my bed.  The maid would be in later to unpack
my bags.  I quickly fell asleep, exhausted from the over strenuous trip.

When I awoke, I was covered with a blanket and all my bags had been
unpacked; my clothes and personal item had been put away.  The suite was
very quiet.  I got up and looked out of the window.  The snow had stopped
and daylight was fading fast.  I put on a robe and walked into the living
room.  The lights were on in the kitchen and I went in.  The maid was
sitting in the corner reading a magazine.

She noticed me standing there.  "Good evening, sir." she said in a very
pleasant voice.  "I'm Melinda."

"Hello, Melinda, I'm Cory.  Do you know where my parents are?"

"Yes, Mr. Cory.  They are downstairs in the ballroom at a reception.  They
asked me to tell you that they'll be back at eight o'clock and you'll all
go to dinner then."

"Thank.  And please call me Cory."

I went back to my room.  Now I had three hours to kill before I had to
shower and get ready for dinner.  I decided to go out; I dressed casually
and warmly.  I wanted to see all the new upscale stores on North Michigan
Avenue and generally just hang.

As I walked out of the hotel I was struck by the throngs of people on the
streets and the wonderful Christmas decorations that were in full display.
Everything looked so bright and cheerful; it put me in a wonderful mood.  I
felt so good and loving and giving - the true Christmas spirit.

It had a very good year for me.  I would be graduating from high school in
six months and going off to a very prestigious college in New Jersey.  I
had a great relationship with my folks and brother and sister.  Things were
just really good for me.

My parents, though very busy with their various businesses and charity
work, were quite loving; they cared for us kids and gave us the best of
everything without too much hassle.  They had a great philosophy about
raising children: "You are going to have fights with your children - that's
a given.  So pick your fights carefully.  Don't make big problems and cause
big fights over trivial matters."

I remember my sister once wanted to shave her head.  She was in high school
at the time and one of her girlfriends had done it and got thrown out of
her house.  When she told my parents that she was going to do it, they just
nodded and said fine.  If that's what she really wanted, then it was okay
with them.  Of course, she was only saying it to bait them - she had
absolutely no intention of cutting off all her hair.  But the folks didn't
rise to the bait, and a big scene with the predictable bloody aftermath was
averted.  They were very understanding for parents and never said "No!"
without a discussion or an explanation.  My friends could never understand
why I didn't hate my parents.

So here I was slogging along and looking in the store windows.  I dropped a
couple of bucks in the red kettle in front of Saks; and then I saw him for
the first time.  He was huddled in a really grungy looking parka that was
at least three sizes too big for him; it hung almost to his ankles.  He had
his mitten-covered hands cupped in front of him and was obviously begging
for money.  He was making eye contact with all the people who passed him
and he spoke something to them, but I couldn't hear what he said.

Just then a security guard from the store stepped out and pushed him away
from his spot near the entrance.  He didn't put up any resistance or
argument.  I guess this had happened before.  I pulled a couple of dollars
out of my pocket and began walking towards him.  When he saw me
approaching, he picked up his pace.  I called out to him.  "Hey, hold up
kid.  I've got some money for you."

He stopped, turned and walked toward me.  "Thanks a lot, mistah," he
replied courteously.  "I `preciate it.  Thanks again."

He seemed like a nice enough kid.  I was barely able to see his face
because of the parka hood.  I could see that he was black and sort of on
the cute side.  Since I had plenty of time and didn't need to be back at
the hotel for a couple of hours I asked if he would like to go some place
warm and grab some dinner.  I also wanted some company.  After a little
coaxing he agreed.

We walked a few blocks to a coffee shop and were shown to a booth near the
rear of the place.  He took off his mittens and that terribly oversized
parka and sat down; I sat opposite him.  He had both his hands on his lap.
I handed him a menu and he looked at it.

"By the way, my name's Cory," I said.

"Hi Cory, I'm Huw."

"Huw?  That's a very nice name."

"Yeah, but it's spelt H-U-W.  Somebody says that it's a English way of
writin' it."

I smiled at him and glanced at the menu.  Now that I was able to see his
face I could see that he was really rather cute.  He wore a couple of
Band-Aids on his face and I noticed some bad scratches near his ears.  His
skin was quite dark; he had big dark eyes, very long lashes, small ears,
very full and sensuous lips and really crooked teeth.  His hair was cut
very short, almost a shave job, and I could see numerous cuts and scars on
his scalp.  The whites of his eyes were quite red.

"So what'll it be Huw?  Order anything you want, okay?"  He nodded and
thanked me.

After the waiter took our order Huw and I just sat there looking at each
other.  We both seemed to be embarrassed to say anything.  We would
occasionally smiled and that was about it.  I just didn't know how to start
a conversation with a kid I had just met freezing on the streets of
Chicago.  I finally decided to begin thing off.  "How old are you Huw?"

"I'm ten.  Was ten coupla month ago.  How ol're you?"

"I'm seventeen.  Do you live here in Chicago?"

He shook his head but didn't say anything else.  The waiter came with the
first course of our food - actually, of Huw's food.  I didn't order much
because I would be going out with the folks in a couple of hours.  He set
the food in front of us and Huw picked up his fork and began to eat his
salad.  He was left handed, as I was.  I thought it was great - two
southpaws.  I sipped my coffee.

"I see your are also left handed like I am," I said as I smiled to Huw.

He looked up quickly and glared at me.  "Not my doin' man!" he said rather
emphatically.  I gave him a quizzical look as he slowly lifted his right
hand from his lap.  I was really shocked.  His hand was terribly mutilated;
I mean it was really crippled!  He was missing all the fingers on the hand
except for the thumb.  There was a lot of scarring all around and it was
rather repulsive looking.  The fingers had been amputated right at the base
- there were no stumps even.  It was just a scarred up palm with a thumb
rather than a hand.

"I'm sorry, Huw," I said a bit sheepishly.

"Nothin' t'be sorry `bout, Cory.  Ya didn't do it.  This is the way I am,
man.  Nothin' I can do `bout it now.  Nothin' ya can do `bout it neither."

I just gave him a little "I'm sorry" smile and returned to my coffee.  Huw
continued to eat his food.  He ate rather hungrily, shoveling the food into
his mouth at a steady clip.  He did have good table manners, though, and
would occasionally look up at me and give me a little smile.  Huw kept his
mutilated right hand on his lap throughout the meal except when dessert
came.  He had ordered ice cream and needed to hold the dish from sliding on
the table.

"If you don't mind me asking Huw, how did that happen to you - you know,
losing your fingers and all like that?"

"I don't mine y'askin', man.  My daddy done it."

I was flabbergasted.  "Your f-f-father did that to you?"

"Yup.  He cut `em off one at a time when I was bad."

This was just unbelievable!  I really could not believe what Huw was
telling me.  What kind of person would deliberately mutilate a small
child's hand because his misbehaved?  "When did this happen?  I mean, when
did he do that to you?"
  
"Yea, I know whatcha mean.  Le' see.  Well, I loss my pinky when I was
five.  I loss my ring finger when I was six an' the nex' two when I was
eight."

This was totally incomprehensible to me!  This man, his father,
deliberately amputated his own child's fingers over the course of a number
of years?  And nobody said anything?  Nobody noticed?  Nobody cared?  "Huw,
I want to believe what you're telling me, but somehow it's very hard for me
to believe that your own father would cut off your fingers."

"It's okay, man; ya don't havta believe me.  I know it's hard.
A...er...rich guy like you...you don't know wha' goes on with the likes of
me `n my kind."  He continued to finish his dessert.  We didn't say
anything else about his hand.  In fact we finished the meal in complete
silence.  I paid the check and we walked outside into the bracing cold of a
Chicago winter.

After we walked a block or two, I turned to Huw.  "Do you have somewhere to
go now?"

"Uh...yeah, I'm gonna crash fo' the night at my...uh...friend Leo's place.
Thanks for everythin', Cory.  You've been very nice t'me."  He put out his
left hand in order to shake hands with me; I extended my left and we shook.

"How far is Leo's place?"

"Uh...not far.  Jus' `bout four...or five...er...block."

"Okay, Huw, it was nice meeting you speaking to you...and good luck."

He just gave me a small smile as I started to walk away.  Huw just stood on
the spot where we had just spoken and didn't move.  I headed back towards
North Michigan.  I looked back quickly and saw Huw still standing there.  I
continued my trek.  The snow and slush on the sidewalks were beginning to
freeze up.  I turned around to look at Huw one more time and he wasn't
there.  It was like he'd vanished into thin air.

I turned north and slogged my way to the hotel.  I just could not get Huw
out of my mind.  A ten-year-old black boy with the fingers of his right
hand cut off trying to make his way in Chicago.  I wondered where he came
from and why nothing had been done when he started losing his fingers.
Surely someone must have noticed - teachers, friends... And what about his
mother or other family?

As I neared the hotel I thought I saw someone standing in the shadows of an
alley near an office building.  It sure as hell looked like Huw because the
coat he was wearing was all the way down to his ankles.  As I approached
the figure disappeared; I sure as hell not walking into that alley - it was
too dark.  I went directly into the hotel and took the private elevator up
to our suite.

I shaved and showered and lay down on the bed waiting for my parent to come
back before I dressed; I figured I had about forty-five minutes.  I was
naked on the bed.  I kept thinking about Huw and how I would really like to
get him into bed with me.  He wasn't that gorgeous but he was cute enough.
The thought of Huw in my bed kept going around and around my brain.  I
thought of slowly undressing him, playing with his smooth little boy chest
and nipples, licking his ears and his throat.  Then moving further down and
licking his smooth mound and playing with his boy cock, his delicate cute
balls and his hot little ass.  The picture of him playing with my cock and
rubbing that mutilated hand of his all over my dick and mauling my balls
with just that palm and thumb of his hand got me tremendously aroused.
Before I knew it I was furiously jackin' myself.  I worked harder and
harder and felt myself getting pretty close...very, very close to
coming...yes, yes this was going to be it...  and suddenly the telephone
started ringing.

I quickly stopped jacking, grabbed the phone and deflated quite rapidly.
It was the desk manager calling.  "Sir, there is a young...black person
here in the lobby and he says that he knows you and that he would like to
be allowed entrance to your suite."

"What's his name?" I asked.

I heard him cover the receiver.  "He says that it is Huw, sir, spelled
H-U-W.  And he has also requested that I inform you, sir, that there are
many good young gentlemen's departments in Saks."

"Yeah, it's all right.  Send him up.  Please tell him to knock on door
number three of the suite."

"Very good, sir."

What the hell was Huw doing here?  And how did he find me?  I'll bet he was
really following me all the time and that it was him I saw in the alley.
The little sneak!

	  -------------------------------------------------------

Huw was sitting on my bed wearing an oversized tee shirt of mine.  He had
showered and I had given all of his clothes to Melinda to have them
laundered.  He had brought along a rather large backpack crammed with all
kinds of stuff; any clothes I found in there were sent off to be washed.

I was able to catch a quick view of Huw's equipment while he was taking off
his clothes to shower.  He seemed to have a generous size dick and nice
ball sac for a kid of ten.  I knew instantly that I wanted to be on much
more friendly and personal terms with them.

I dressed for dinner while Huw was showering.  The folks would be back in
the suite in about fifteen minutes.  How was I going to explain Huw?  I
didn't even have the slightest idea of what the hell he was doing here!  He
just looked so miserable and forlorn standing at that doorway when I opened
it that I had to ask him in.  Maybe my fantasies while jackin' off had
something to do with it.  I don't know for sure.

"We're going out to dinner, Huw.  You can stay here in this room and do
whatever you want - read, watch TV, eat...whatever.  Okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine wi'me, Cory.  Where's the food kept?"

"Come with me and I'll show you."

We walked out into the main sitting room of the suite and Huw just froze in
his tracks.  "Jeez," he said quietly.  "This is jus' incredible."

"It is, isn't it?  I'll bet you've never seen anything like this before?"
He just shook his head slowly.  "And you thought the lobby and elevator
were fabulous," I said laughing.

We went into the kitchen area and I showed him where the food was kept.  He
smiled up at me after he peered into the refrigerator.  Just then I heard
the door to the suite open and I knew my parents were back.  I walked out
into the sitting room and Huw followed me.  I noticed that he kept his
right hand behind his back all the time.  Poor kid.  Must really be
embarrassed about it.

"Ready for dinner, Cory?  We will be meeting the..." My mother stopped in
mid-sentence as she suddenly noticed Huw.  "Who is this young man Cory?"
she asked as she and my father both notice Huw.

"Mom, dad, this is Huw.  Huw, these are my parents..."

Before I could continue Huw extended his left hand to my mother.  "Please
to meet you, ma'm," Huw said in a very mellifluous voice.  Mom seemed more
than a little bewildered, but I nodded at her and she extended her left
hand and they shook.  Huw then walked over to my father.  "Good evening,
sir.  It's very nice to meet you."  My father shook Huw's hand and gave him
a big smile that the boy eagerly returned.

"Huw, we're going out to dinner now and we should be back in about three
hours.  Is that okay with you?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine wi'that.  I'll jus' watch some TV in your room."

	     ------------------------------------------------

"Cory, where the hell did he come from?" my mom asked as we went down in
the elevator.

"I saw him begging in front of Saks and took him for some dinner and then
he later showed up here.  That's all.  Really!"

"He seems like a nice enough kid, Cory, but to leave him in the suite?
Alone?  I don't know," she added.

"All the doors are guarded, mom.  And he's been told not to leave.
Besides, he's got no clothes.  I think he can be trusted."

"And what was that business of shaking with his left hand, Cory?" my dad
asked.  "That was a little strange, wasn't it?"

"No, dad.  Huw's right hand has been terribly mutilated.  He doesn't offer
it; he keeps it behind his back, if you'd noticed.  I think he's terribly
embarrassed by it."

	     ------------------------------------------------

Dinner was very pleasant and the food was excellent.  There were six of us,
the other three being a business associate of my father's, his wife and
teenage daughter.  The daughter, Julie, was my age and we talked easily and
pleasantly but I was very anxious to return to the hotel and see how Huw
was doing.

When I opened the door to my room I saw that only one small light was on.
Huw was asleep under the covers.  He was all the way to one side of that
king size bed and I had difficulty seeing him because he had the blankets
almost covering his head.  I was very happy that he had decided to sleep in
my bed instead of the sofa bed that was also in the room.

I undressed and crawled into bed au natural.  That's the way I usually
slept.  After the day I had, I fell asleep very quickly.

	     ------------------------------------------------

I figured it was about 3 AM when I woke up.  Something had disturbed my
sleep.  The room was completely dark except for some light coming from the
sitting room and seeping under the door.  I sat up in bed and could barely
make out a small figure seated near the window.  He was moaning in a low
tone of voice and rocking back and forth rhythmically.  For a second or two
I didn't know who it was and it frightened me.  Then I remembered through
my sleepy hazy brain that it had to be Huw.  I turned on the light by the
side of the bed.  Huw immediately stopped keening and looking at me with a
very surprised look on his face.  I noticed he was rubbing his crippled
right hand with his left one in a very agitated manner.  "What's up Huw?" I
asked very gently.

"I don't feel so good, Cory."

"Are you sick?  Should I get a doctor?"

"No...no it's not that.  I feel fine but I also feel terrible `cause I had
a lotta bad dreams and I'm scared.  And my hand here is hurtin' somethin'
awful."

So the kid was having nightmares.  Not surprising.  I wondered if the pain
in his hand was real or imagined.  Still speaking gently I asked, "You
wanna come back to bed and you can tell me what scared you?"

He nodded his head.  "Yeah, okay, I s'ppose."  Huw stood up and slowly
walked to my side of the bed and sat down on the pillows near the
headboard.  He was still furiously rubbing his hand.  I put out my hand and
he put his left hand into mine.  I gave it a gentle squeeze.  He gave me a
small smile in return.  "Thanks for talkin' t'me, Cory.  I know I'm
not...you know...I'm not the kinda guy who likes t'talk much, but I
think...I think I needs it now.  I really needs t'talk to someone."

"I'm here for you and you can tell me anything at all that's bothering you.
Okay?"

He nodded his head very slightly.  "Yeah, Cory."  He moved his mutilated
right hand so that I could clearly see it.  "My daddy done this t'me `cause
I did sex with...with boys and men."

This was quite a revelation, and I knew that it took a tremendous amount of
courage for Huw to say it.  "I understand, Huw."

"No ya don't, Cory," he said gently but insistently.  "Afta he caught me
the firs' time with a boy he cut off my pinky.  He took a axe and chopped
it right off at the bottom.  He sayed he'd cut off `nother finger if he
ever caught me agin.  `bout a year later when he caught me lettin' a teen
boy fuck me, he cut off my nex' finger.  He tol' me that he would keep
doin' it until I stopped doin' it...but I never could.  All I wanted t'do
was let boys and men fuck me and let them suck my dick and let me suck
their dicks and to squirt their juice in my mout'.  I love doin' it - I
love doin' it a lot!"

I nodded to him and took his right hand into both of mine.  I got an
immediate thrill when I gently rubbed that hand.  I didn't know what was
happening to me, but I felt wonderful.  I immediately felt my cock getting
hard as I continued to gently rub Huw's almost useless hand.  He seemed to
like it lot, too.

"That feel so good, Cory.  Really good.  I like ya a lot."  He looked me
right in the eyes.  "I like ya a lot, Cory."  He gave me a nice smile and I
smiled back at him.  "Anyway, after he cut off two more finger on my poor
hand, I runned away.  I been on m'own for two year now.  Livin' on m'own.
All alone."

"Where're you from, Huw."

"Tennessee, in the moun'ins."  He paused and gave his best sad puppy dog
look.  "Ya don't hate me `cause of what I tol' ya, do ya Cory?"

"Of course not Huw.  Why should I hate you?"

He spoke very slowly and in a very low voice.  "'Cause I likes men and I
likes boys and...and I let `em fuck me and..." I sat up completely and put
my arms around him, giving him a big hug and holding him tightly.  He threw
his arms around me, hugging me back.  "Thanks, Cory.  Thanks so very, very
much."

I could feel him starting to sob lightly.  But still he clung to me.  I
moved to the center of the bed still holding onto Huw and bringing him into
bed with me.  I stretched out on my back and Huw stretched out next to me
with his head on my chest.  I continued to hold him and rub his back.  He
put his right hand on my chest and I put my left hand on it and rubbed that
crippled hand soothingly and gently.  He put his soft warm legs over mine.

"My hand don't hurt no more, Cory.  It's feel good now."

"I'm glad to hear that, Huw.  Very glad.  If I can do anything to help you
feel better, just let me know.  Okay?"

"Yea, I'll let ya know."

It felt so wonderful having this child in bed with me.  I felt so loving
and loved and so helpful as I comforted him.  I also found myself getting
extremely aroused.  My breathing was coming faster and I felt my cock
straining against the blankets.  I felt Huw's genital pressing into me and
they felt so incredibly fabulous.  I found myself thinking of what would be
coming next.  I thought about Huw getting ready to make love to me - that
he would make love to my body as he had said he'd done to countless men and
boys before.  Instead I noticed that his breathing had become very slow and
regular - he'd fallen fast asleep.


			   The End (...for now)