Date: Mon, 16 Apr 2001 02:18:19
From: Erik Asman <erik2175@hotmail.com>
Subject: Brandon's Life 4: Adaptations

     For the next two weeks, short of a day, Logan came by each morning and
picked up his bedridden friend's schoolwork.  Each time he arrived on his
way to school, Brandon's mother Lois would have a tray ready, with food
enough for both of them, for Logan to take up to Brandon's room.  By the end
of the first week, even though he felt good enough to get up out of bed,
Brandon was still strictly confined.  It was only his twice daily visits
with Logan that kept him from losing his mind.  As his dependence on the
pain pills grew less and less, Brandon found himself increasingly restless
and bored; even with his schoolwork.  He kept up, however.  Logan kept him
dutifully informed of any social developments, and also informed him that he
was greatly missed by their peers.  Brandon didn't quite know how to feel
about that bit of news.  After all, he had been changed a great deal.  He
was profoundly grateful for his friend's help, however.
     Each morning, Logan would arrive with breakfast and make sure that
Brandon took his antibiotics.  He would pack up the homework after they had
eaten, inspect his friend's wounds and bandages, empty his urine bottle if
needed, and then try to resist the urge to stop somewhere on his way to
school to jack off.  Each evening, he would stop and deliver the new
homework assignments, have a snack, check over Brandon again, then linger.
The boys would play video games, watch TV, and just talk until Logan's
parents finally gave in and realized that their noble son was spending his
time well with a very sick friend.  They didn't know the half of it.  The
sight of Brandon's rapidly healing and empty scrotum, combined with the
sight of the catheter, was enough to drive Logan mad.  Each day he thought
of the first visit when he had kissed Brandon goodbye.  The young eunuch, of
course, had been too far gone in his pain meds to notice it, and Logan had
not pursued it - as much as he wanted to.  Brandon's cheek had been soft and
smooth, unbroken by even a single whisker.  Logan thought of this often as
well, wondering IF Brandon would EVER sprout a beard.  He also wondered if
he'd ever get the courage to say what he really felt.
     It was not quite two weeks to the day when Brandon asked him that
morning to stay and miss school.  Logan was perplexed, but he listened
intently.  Anything to get out of school!
     "I want you to go the Doctor's office with me," Brandon asked, "They're
going to take my stitches out and change my catheter and check me over.
Mom's driving, but I don't want to go alone."  There had actually been tears
forming up in Brandon's eyes when he asked, and Logan could tell how
frightened his friend was.  He agreed, and ran downstairs to call his
mother, even though he could just as well have used the phone in Brandon's
room which was connected to his computer.  By the time he returned, Brandon
had regained his composure.
     "My appointment is for 1PM," he began, "and I really need a bath.
Dad's been doing the best he can for me, but I need a real BATH, ya know?  I
haven't moved from this bed in almost two weeks."
     "So, uh, what do I do?" Logan asked nervously, genuinely afraid of
hurting him.
     "Get the shutoff clamp on my catheter, and unhook me from the bottle.
Just help me up.  I haven't been on my feet for two weeks ya know."
     Logan did that, and felt his dick getting hard again.  He hoped that
Brandon wouldn't notice it, and was grateful that his oversized orange T
shirt came down past his crotch.  Brandon sat up and swung his legs over the
bedside.  Logan stared at him, noting the near lack of much hair on
Brandon's body.  There was only a very slight dusting over his mutilated
genitals, and that was it.  No leg hair, no armpit hair, none.  He also
noted that Brandon has lost a lot of weight and was looking pale.  As his
friend tried to stand up, Logan caught him as he lost his balance.  His bare
size 8 feet had hardly touched the carpet before vertigo got him.  He leaned
heavily on his blonde friend, shaking his head.  Logan held him tightly.
     "We need to get you back up and out into the sun, man.  You looked
bad!"  Logan said.
     "Fuck you," Brandon replied, grinning, "Just help me get to bathroom."
     "Man, don't get my hopes up," Logan thought to himself.
     When they arrived in the bathroom, Logan saw a small stool sitting IN
the tub.  He helped Brandon get onto it, and turned on the water.  He handed
his friend a bar of antibacterial soap and watched as he scrubbed himself
off.  Once the water had soaked the bandages loose, Logan carefully removed
them.  "Healin' up good," he noted.
     "Yea," Brandon agreed glumly, "what's left of me."
     Logan didn't know what to say.  He simply laid a small hand on his
friend's shoulder and sighed.  Brandon bowed his head to shampoo it,
thankful that the shower was hiding his tears.  When he was done, Logan shut
the water off and handed him a towel.  He helped Brandon get to his feet and
watched him dry off.  "Thanks," Brandon replied when they made it back to
his bed, "I'd have died if mom had to do this.  Now, help me figure out this
damn leg-bag thing.  Man, my joints hurt!"  Brandon moaned, his two weeks of
immobility catching up with him.  His muscles had begun to atrophy a bit,
and they protested at their sudden use.  Logan rooted through Brandon's
wardrobe, picking out a black long sleeved T shirt, olive baggy cargo shorts
and a pair of brown Doc Marten sandals.  "OK?" he asked.
     "Whatever," Brandon replied, "help me with this."
     Logan laid the clothes on the bed and sat down beside his friend.
"Stand up," he said.
     Brandon did that, his hands heavy on Logan's shoulders.  He had gotten
the leg-bag up on his thigh, and Logan secured the strap and connected the
catheter.  He then released the shutoff clamp.  Brandon flinched as the pale
yellow urine ran out the tube and into the bag.  He didn't care for the hot
feeling of it on his bare skin.  "Feels like I just wet myself," he observed
with a face of disgust.  Logan, however, was suffering.  His cock was
throbbing and the sight of Brandon's stitched and modified one was tearing
him.  He wondered what having that indwelling catheter felt like.  He
sighed.
     Brandon stared down at himself.  "Two more weeks of his damn tube," he
groaned.
     "Two more?" Logan asked.
     "He has to take it out, flush my bladder, run a sound -whatever that is
- and then put a bigger one back in me for another two weeks.  Then it comes
out, and I'm free to go," Brandon explained.  Logan very nearly choked.  A
month of not being able to whack off ?  Hell he'd been whacking off at least
three times a day just thinking of Brandon and his predicament.  A whole
month ?  Brandon was going to be starved for it, and Logan found that he
couldn't wait.  His mind raced, thinking of what to say.  And what in hell
was a 'sound'?
     "Tryouts for soccer are in two weeks!" he offered.
     Brandon's face lit up.  "After today, I can be up and about," he
replied, smiling, "and I can get back into shape.  I'll make it!"  Then he
thought of something.  "But how am I gonna hide it?"
     "Hide what?" Logan asked dumbly, his pale blonde skater cut shaking as
he moved his head.
     "My lack of balls, dumbass," Brandon retorted.
     Logan shrugged and handed his friend a pair of boxers.  "Stand
sideways?"
     "Funny," Brandon retorted, "No one can see me like this."
     "I can," Logan said softly, looking away, "Or don't I count for
anything?"
     Brandon stared at him.  "That's not what I meant," he offered, "I'm
sorry.  I don't mind if you know.  You're the only one I really trust, I
mean, I figured YOU wouldn't make fun of me and stuff since ... well ..."
     Logan's strange, pale eyes were pleading.  Brandon saw that most of the
color was gone from them.  He had never seen that before.  He phrased his
reply carefully.  "Since you got made fun of so much over the enema thing,
and well, shit!  Logan, you're the first one I jacked off with.  You're the
ONLY one I ever sucked off with.  I thought you'd understand."  Then, unable
to face his friend, Brandon turned away.
     "Thanks," Logan replied after a moment, "I think."
     "Just come with me today, please," Brandon pleaded, his voice full of
fear.
     "You think it's gonna hurt?"
     Brandon nodded.
     They did not speak of it for the rest of the morning, both of them
watching TV and playing video games until lunch, which Brandon couldn't
have.  Although Logan was almost ready to cum in his own shorts, he resisted
the urge to go the bathroom and jack off.  It didn't seem fair that his
friend couldn't.
     When noon came, Logan helped him dress and zipped the detachable legs
onto Brandon's cargo shorts, hiding his urine bag.  With a very wobbly gait,
they made it down the stairs to where Lois was waiting with the van.

     The Doctor's office was the same.  Brandon's empty stomach rolled as he
checked in.  His mother had left him the insurance card, and gone on to shop
at Brandon's request.  He simply could not stand to have her there to see
it.  He and Logan sat next to each other, reading a PC Gamer magazine.  To
their surprise, at 12:40, Brandon was called in.  He leaned heavily on Logan
as they made their way to exam room 2.  The same nurse as before smiled at
them, took Brandon's vitals after he had stripped to his boxers, and oddly,
didn't ask Logan to leave.  Brandon's face was flaming at being seen with
the lower third of his urine bag exposed below his boxers leg.  When the
nurse left, he sighed.  Logan laughed.  "Dude, she's a nurse.  She's seen it
all."
     Brandon shook his head.  "I hate this," he said lowly, glancing at the
shower / toilet area.
     "That where he gave ya the enemas?" Logan asked.
     Brandon nodded.  "Weird, man.  Real weird."
     "I know," Logan replied, "Who you think taught my folks how to do it to
me at home?"
     Brandon seemed lost in thought, remembering the feel of the hot water,
the cramps, and finally the butt plug.  He then thought of how good he had
felt when it was over.  "So, uh, Logan - tell me - do you LIKE it?  Cause,
uh, I think I did."
     Logan could hardly believe his ears.  The thought of it, of visualizing
Brandon naked on the enema bench in the next room, made him so desperately
want to jack off.  He looked at Brandon, but Brandon was staring into the
next room.  "Yea, I do, actually.  I hated it at first, but after the first
few times, I got used to it.  You even look forward to it after a while."
Then he had another thought - of he and Brandon BOTH naked on the bench,
seeing who could take it the longest.  His dreams were interrupted, however,
by the Doctor.
     "Hello, Brandon!  Ready to get those stitches out?"  He paused, seeing
Logan off to the side of the exam table.  "Well, hello, Logan!  Didn't I
just check you out a few days ago?"
     "Hi, Doc," Logan replied, "I came to help Brandon."
     "I see," the Doctor replied, "So, how are we doing?"
     "'We' feel like hell," Brandon replied.  "Do we HAVE to do this?" he
asked.
     "Yes, Brandon.  We have to.  There's no help for it.  If you want your
plumbing to heal up right, then we have to.  Otherwise, you could wear that
tube for rest of your life if you like."
     "OK," Brandon agreed, pulling off his boxers, "Am I gonna get an enema
this time?" he suddenly asked, his eyes wide.  Logan gasped.
     "No," the Doctor replied firmly, "no time.  I'm sure you'd like one,
but we'd run over time and besides, Logan would no doubt want one too.  By
the way, Logan, everything moving along fine - shall we say - now that
you're getting washed out once a week at home?"
     "ONCE a WEEK?" Brandon interjected, his eyes wide and his jaw open.
      Logan blushed.  "Yes, sir," he replied meekly.
     "Logan has bad bowel habits, Brandon," the Doctor replied, "He clogs
easily.  Now, for you.  Lay back.  I'm going to detach the cath and take it
out slowly.  It may burn a bit.  Whatever you do, DO NOT try to pee!  Hold
it.  I'll then insert a sound to open you up better.  After that, we rinse.
Then a new cath, and off you go.  Got it?"
     Brandon nodded.  He was beginning to shake.  "Oh, one of those," the
Doctor sighed, "hang on."  He then went to his cabinet and rooted around a
bit.  He came back with rubber gloves, a tray, and a bullet sized pill in
one hand.  "On your stomach," he ordered.
     "Why?" Brandon asked, startled.
     "Suppository sedative.  Works faster, and you need to relax!" the
Doctor retorted.
     Logan watched, his heart hammering.  The Doctor squeezed some KY Jelly
onto his gloved hand, and inserted a finger into Brandon's butt.  He moved
it slowly, and Brandon moaned.  He then withdrew the finger, set the pill
into place, and pushed it in as far as he could.  Brandon groaned.  Logan,
once again, was so hard that he hurt; his hands were also shaking.  Within
minutes, the Doctor had Brandon roll back over onto his back.  His eyes were
getting glassy.  He then inserted a needle of some kind into the short,
lower tube of Brandon's cath and deflated the balloon that was up in the
boy's bladder.  Very slowly, the cath slid out.  Brandon moaned and made a
face, but he didn't cry out.  Logan watched in fascination as the Doctor
discarded it all.  "Don't pee!" he reminded the patient.
     "Uhh, OK, "Brandon sighed.
     He then changed gloves, and one by one, removed the stitches from
Brandon's shaft.  It was just too much to watch, Brandon's once unique dick
being displayed in its altered state as it was.  Unable to hold it any
longer, Logan ran to the bathroom.  He simply could not take it anymore.  He
went into the bathroom and yanked down his shorts and tight briefs.  His
hard boy dick, once freed from the snug briefs that he liked to wear,
slapped him on the tummy. Logan grabbed his dick with his right hand.  He
was so worked up he knew he would not last long.  He just had to cum.  He
pumped his hand up and down his hard shaft. He grabbed his balls with his
left hand and closed his eyes. A moan escaped his lips as he felt his balls
start to pull up. He stretched out his scrotum and felt the empty ball bag
and a picture of himself castrated - like Brandon - came into his mind.
     Then it hit him.
     Logan shot five large ropes of boy cream all over the bathroom wall.
He opened his eyes and saw his white goo drip down the wall and land with a
little splat sound on the floor; he was a bit stunned at the amount of
discharge.  He grabbed a handful of toilet paper and first cleaned off his
dick, then the wall and floor. After his cum was cleaned up, he sat down on
the toilet and took a piss. He flushed, washed his hands and face, then went
back out to see what the doctor was now doing to his best and cutest friend.
When he returned, the Doctor was just finishing up on removing Brandon's
scrotal stitches.  "Healed nicely," he commented.  He then turned to look at
Logan.  "He's lucky to have a friend like you, and NO, I don't buy it for a
minute, Logan!  Spray it with disinfectant and try to get settled down!"
     Logan's face flamed and he grinned.  "Sorry," he offered.
     The Doctor smiled.  "I was young once," he replied, wiping some
Betadyne on Brandon's empty scrotum.  Brandon seemed to not care, the
sedative up in his bowels having relaxed him to the point of idiocy.  The
Doctor then picked up a sounding rod.  Logan returned in time to see him
injecting Brandon's limp penis with lubricant, and applying some to the
sound.  He gasped.  "Man, you gonna run that up IN him?" he asked in
fascination, thinking for all the world like it looked as if the Doctor was
going to impale Brandon with what looked like a BBQ grilling spit.
     The Doctor nodded, taking Brandon's limp member in his other hand.  He
carefully inserted the rod, which looked far too large to Logan, and began
to insert it.  As it went in, Brandon seemed to come to his senses a bit.
"Wh-what's that?" he asked, "m-my dick ... feels funny."
     "This is the sound to open up your urethra, Brandon.  Hold still," the
Doctor replied.  He continued to push it in slowly.  Logan could only stare,
his eyes wide.  When the sound was only a few inches in, Brandon cried,
"Please stop!"
     "I can't," the Doctor replied.  Logan moved to Brandon's side and held
his hand.  He kept staring, his own penis hard again.  The sound went in
slowly, and despite the sedative, Brandon cried out.  Very slowly, the
Doctor turned it, then began to withdraw it.  "It huuuuurts," Brandon
moaned, his grip on Logan's hand tightening.
     Finally, the sound was out.  The Doctor dropped it into the tray and
quickly picked up another tube, already attached to a bottle.  It looked to
Logan like a small enema bottle, and his heart raced again.  Quickly, the
Doctor lubed and inserted the tube up into Brandon's now semi-hard penis.
He noted that the circumcision stitches had held, and that it had also
healed nicely.  Once the tube was in past Brandon's penis and well into him,
but not yet into his bladder, the Doctor raised the bag and put pressure on
it.  He waited for a moment for Brandon's pending erection to subside.  "OK,
Brandon, now pee!" he ordered.  Brandon tried, but the Doctor squeezed the
bag, emptying it's contents up into the boy's bladder.  Brandon gasped, his
eyes growing wide, as he felt like he had to go like he had never felt
before.  He felt like his penis was going to explode, but he could not pee.
"Please," he begged, his eyes tearing up.
     The Doctor quickly grabbed up a small urinal, and let the irrigation
tube slide out.  In one movement, he moved the irrigation tube out of the
way and put the urinal over Brandon's penis as the boy let go.  Without the
tube, the sterilizing solution burned his raw urethra and he screamed, his
grip crushing Logan's hand.  Logan moved to hold his head down, still
gripping his hand.  "Normally I'd had given you something for pain, Brandon,
but hopefully this will teach you to take better care of yourself." the
Doctor said flatly.  He waited until Brandon had emptied his bladder, then
changed gloves and fetched a larger Foley catheter.  He noted that the pain
of the discharge had made Brandon fully hard.  It also reminded him to call
for the nurse to come and draw blood, so that the eunuch's hormone levels
could be tested.  He was not, however, ready to put Brandon on hormone
replacement.  Not yet.
     He then seemed to change his mind.  He sat the catheter back in the
tray, and began to relube his gloved finger.  "Brandon," he said
matter-of-factly, "I need to pull another semen sample for testing on
hormone levels.  Then we'll take some blood.  You remember the last time
when I asked if you could jack off for me?"
     Brandon nodded, a tear escaping his left eye.  His face was red,
whether from embarrassment or crying, Logan could not tell.  He felt a pang
in the pit of his stomach; although what he was watching his best buddy go
through was tearing at his heart, it was also making him aroused.  The
Doctor continued his explanation.  "Now, after all you've been through so
far, and the fact that the suppository is making you so relaxed, I don't
think you can do it, can you?"
     Brandon shook his head, his eyes clenched shut.
     "Alright, then, I'm going to have to do the finger again.  Just lay
there and be calm, it'll be over soon enough," the Doctor advised.
     Logan's heart was racing again and his dick throbbing - despite his
recent ejaculation - as he watched the Doctor slide his finger up into
Brandon's asshole.  Brandon groaned a bit as the Doctor searched for the
small rubbery disk that would trigger the young eunuch to shoot.  Logan
wanted badly to offer his services to help Brandon get off, but he didn't
dare.  He didn't know whether or not to think that their mutual physician
might already suspect it, but he couldn't take the risk.  What if he didn't?
  What if he got mad?  He would tell their parents for sure, and Logan just
sat there, unable to gamble so much.
     He watched as Brandon squirmed a bit while the Doctor manipulated his
prostate.  His healed up and "normal looking" dick slowly came to attention,
standing up to its full length.  Logan was glad to see that that was
undiminished.  He was also glad to see Brandon re-harden so quickly.
Fascinated, and not really sure if he knew how to do it right himself, Logan
watched as a few drops of precum came to the exposed tip of his friend's
dick.  It seemed to take forever.  The Doctor moved his finger methodically,
then ordered Logan to hold a specimen cup over the tip of Brandon's dick.
Logan nearly choked, but did as he was told.  Brandon sighed heavily, then
gasped.  His eyes popped open as he shot once, then twice.  Logan moved the
cup fast, and caught it all.  There was a delay, and Brandon shot a third
time, although not much came out on that try.  He didn't shoot again, yet
the Doctor continued to massage at him.  "I'm done," he said weakly, his
limbs trembling.
     The Doctor nodded and pulled out of him.  Logan was sweating by then,
his hand shaking as he looked into the cup.  What he saw was thin and watery
and not nearly as colored or thick as his own discharge had been.  He could
avidly compare, since he had just cleaned up his own mess in the bathroom.
There was also a small streak of blood in the watery ejaculate.  Then the
nurse came in to draw blood.  Logan handed the Doctor the cup; neither he
nor Brandon could watch the needle being poked into the eunuch's vein.  Then
it was over and she left with both samples.
     "Alright, then.  Let's get you recath'd, Brandon, and you can go home,"
the Doctor said.
     Brandon begged not to be recath'd, but their Doctor insisted, saying he
needed two more weeks and the catheter would be out just in time for team
tryouts.  "I still have a lot more physicals to do too," he mentioned,
preparing the catheter, "and I hope I don't find any more boys that are in
as bad a shape as you were!"
     Brandon nodded.  "Me neither," he retorted sourly.
     Logan watched in fascination as the seemingly too large catheter was
lubed and inserted into his friend's penis.  It just barely fit into the
opening.  Slowly, it went in and in, and when it stopped, the Doctor ordered
Brandon, who was sweating and shaking, to take a deep breath.  When he did,
the catheter slid in further.  A small amount of urine, with only a few
streaks of blood, flowed out to the shutoff clamp.  The Doctor then inflated
the balloon via the small secondary tube, and let it seat itself.  Brandon
was gasping as the nurse came to mercifully give him a shot of painkiller.
The Doctor then attached the newer, larger catheter - which literally
stretched the opening of Brandon's urethra - to the new leg-bag and let him
rest for a while.  He motioned Logan aside.
     "It's highly unusual for me to give orders to a friend, especially in
this case, but I'm going to tell you and write it down too.  He takes the
antibiotics for another two weeks.  The catheter comes out in two weeks, and
for NO reason does it come out early!  Like I said, he's lucky to have a
friend like you, Logan.  Take care of him.  He's already shown us he wont'
take care of himself.  That's how he wound up in this mess.  I want him up
and around by tomorrow, when he's awake.  No more pain pills.  He needs to
eat.  Get him up and moving.  Nothing too strenuous, but something.  Maybe
clamp off the cath and take him swimming in a heavily chlorinated pool, a
good walk, something.  No biking though.  No bladeing, no boarding.  I don't
want him back in school for one more week.  He can go back then.  Just keep
him occupied and don't let him get depressed.  His hormones are going to
fall down fast now, Logan.  Watch him for depression.  If he cries a lot, or
gets moody and quiet, tell someone and try to perk him back up.  Do what you
have to do.  Got it?"
     Logan nodded.  "Is he gonna be OK?" he asked tensely.
     "Only time will tell.  Physically, yes.  Mentally?  Who knows?"
     Logan's eyes then teared up.  Watching his friend suffer had hurt him,
but it had also gotten him aroused.  He wasn't sure how he felt, but he
hated how he was feeling inside and he hated to see his only REAL friend
suffering.
     "I'm surprised he told you, much less kept you around during this,
Logan.  He was very upset when we gave him the news."
     Logan nodded again.  "Cutting his balls off really messed him up, I
think."
     "Well, that, and for the time being, he's incompetent.  The drugs are
going to make him drowsy, but one side affect is talking.  He's likely to
babble unless we put him totally out, and we don't want to do that.  Just be
careful, because right now he can't lie," the Doctor cautioned, "Now, you
ARE alright, you said?"
     "Yes, sir," Logan replied, staring up at the Doctor, wondering what he
was getting at.
     "Just making sure.  If you don't feel good, Logan, you know you can
increase the frequency or the amount of soap anytime."  He winked.
     Logan flushed.  "I know," he said, "I DO feel better now."
     "Death begins in the colon, my boy," the Doctor answered, "Now, go find
us a wheelchair.  Once we get Brandon dressed, we'll roll him out to Lois'
van and you can take him home."
     Once Logan returned with the wheelchair, he and the Doctor slowly got
Brandon dressed.  Logan made sure the leg-bag hung right and smoothed
Brandon's hair, trying to make his friend halfway presentable.  Brandon
moaned and muttered, but not much of it was intelligible.  Once he was
safely in the wheelchair, the Doctor asked him, "Brandon, does it hurt?"
     "N-not much."
     "What are you doing to do now when you get home?"
     "S-sleeeeep."
     "Good," the Doctor replied, "who's going to help you?"
     "Logan."
     Brandon's eyes were glassy and half shut.  A small bit of saliva ran
from the corner of his mouth.  The Doctor wiped it away and handed Logan a
tissue.  "Watch that," he advised.
     Logan nodded and rolled his semi-conscious friend out to the awaiting
van.  Lois helped load her semi-conscious son and belted him in.  She left
Logan with him and went in to pay the co-payment and consult with the
Doctor.  As the boys sat in the van, Logan leaned over the armrest near to
Brandon's ear and whispered, "You want me to stay?"
     "Uh-huh," Brandon agreed.
     "Why?"
     "T-take care of m-me."
     "That musta been good stuff she shot you up with," Logan observed.
     "Yeaaaaaa," Brandon agreed, his head nodding and dumb grin on his face,
"It was some pretty good shit, man."
     Logan summoned up his courage then.  Brandon was so drugged up, chances
were he wouldn't remember it.  The Doctor said he was incompetent, though,
and that he couldn't lie because of the drugs.  Logan took a deep breath,
and took Brandon's limp hand in his own.  He bent closer to his friend's
ear, feeling terrible pangs of fear, regret, and sympathy all at once.  His
small red lips brushed the tip of Brandon's ear and he whispered, "I'm sorry
you had to go through this but I'm here, Brandon.  I want to tell you
something."
     "Ohh - K," Brandon slurred, his eyes sliding shut.
     Logan gritted his teeth and breathed.  "I love you, Brandon."
     Brandon's reply was instant, however.
     "L-love you, L-logan.  Pl-please don't ...  D-don..." but Brandon had
fallen asleep.
     Logan held his friend's hand all the way home while Lois concentrated
on driving.  She couldn't see them behind the sack of groceries she had just
bought anyway, and besides, she was also too busy cursing and waving her
finger at other drivers.  By the time they arrived at Brandon's house, Logan
was desperately wishing that the nurse had shot him up as well!

     "C'mon, honey, move the other foot, that's it," Lois prompted.  Logan
was holding the door open with one hand, and the bag of groceries in the
other as Brandon's mom tried to get her near insensate son into the house.
It took about half a minute for his fogged brain to process the walking
commands, and it was slow going.  Logan was giggling when they finally got
him onto the couch, finding the stairs to Brandon's room totally out of the
question.  They left him there, his even breathing telling them that he was
asleep.  Then they went into the kitchen and laughed their asses off.  They
were both in tears by the time they got to the sack of food, and Lois
decided to fix dinner.  "Call your mother," she told Logan, still
snickering, "and ask if you can stay the night.  It's Saturday tomorrow, so
there's no point in taking you home.  Besides, when Frank gets home it would
be nice to have someone to eat with who's a nice boy for a change.  That and
we could use your help with Brandon."
     Logan nodded and did as he was told.  His mother was all to happy to
let him stay, asking if he needed clothes or anything.  Since Logan was
almost the same size as Brandon, he said he just borrow something of his if
he needed it.  He hung up the phone and turned back to Lois.  "She said OK.
Ma'am," he asked shyly, "What did you mean about being nice for a change?"
     Lois paused her assault on a block of ground beef for a moment and
sighed.  "I didn't mean it THAT way, Logan.  It's just that Brandon is so
moody, so distant.  Must be puberty, I guess.  Boys getting older, not as
lovey as they used to be.  It hurts a mom just a bit when her child seems so
... well ... how do I say it?  Oh, hell.  Brandon's been a real ass lately."
     Logan gaped at her, his jaw open and his eyes shifting color from blue
specked to gray.  Lois caught it.  "What odd eyes you have, Logan!" she
noted, "They changed color!"  She wiped her hands and took his smooth chin
in her grip and stared into those eyes.  Flecks of blue and green shifted
here and there, and the pupils dilated.  Then, without warning, she kissed
him, a hard peck, on the lips.   "You're such a CUTE little boy!" she told
him.  Logan blushed.  Although he was used to affection at home, and a great
deal of it, Lois had embarrassed him.  Your best friend's mom was - after
all - his mom ...
     Logan looked down at his feet, shifting his dark blue Vans sneakers
back and forth.  "Thanks, I think," he replied.
     "Oh but you ARE," she continued, "I wish Brandon were more
affectionate."
     Without thinking, he said it.
     "He is, in his own way."
     She stared at him, then went back to her hamburger.  "Hand me that
block of cheese.  We're having a lasagna, and a lot of it."  He did that.
"Now, go up to Brandon's room and jack off or something, just stay the hell
out of my kitchen!"
     He did that as well.

     Brandon slept until dinner was nearly ready, and Logan had to shake him
awake.  It took a while, but once he was up and conscious and smelled food,
his brain seemed to begin to work again.  With halting movements and Logan's
help, he made his way to the table.  His mom and dad were waiting on him.
His eyes widened when he saw the lasagna, and he smiled.
     "Feel better?" Frank asked, having come home from work while Brandon
was out and Logan was ... occupied.
     "Oh for God's sake, dear, not at the table!" Lois requested.
     "We'll talk about it later then, son," he said.
     They both ate more than was probably good for them, and after dinner,
Logan offered to help with the dishes.  Lois, however, refused.  "That's
what a dishwasher is for, dear," she replied, "Why don't you two plant
yourselves in front of the TV for a while?  Frank and I need to talk, and
well, if it's OK with you, I mean, since you're going to be staying, we
might run out for a bit of dessert, you know and be back later."
     Several ideas shot through Logan's mind just then, and he nodded.
     "Sounds good to me," Brandon agreed, but his eyes were drooping again.
The residual drugs, perhaps, or a belly full of warm solid food, was making
him drowsy again.  The pair made their way back to the family room, and
Logan deposited Brandon on the floor in front of the projection TV and
turned it on.  They channel surfed for a bit, until Lois stuck her head
around to tell them that they were leaving.  Logan waved.  "Have fun, mom,"
Brandon said, smiling as well.  Lois stared at him for a moment, then
returned the smile.  "No roughhousing," she ordered, "and no porn channels.
Frank always forgets to lock those out and the damn thing's beyond me."  The
boys listened as the car backed out the drive.  Logan got up and locked the
door.
     When he returned, his eyes were green and sparkling.  "So, buddy, how
much of it do you remember?  You were OUT of it, man!"
     "Every damn bit of it," Brandon replied, yawning, "How would you like
to have the insides of your dick ripped out and then pumped full of battery
acid?"
     Logan thought for a moment and grinned.
     "Pervert," Brandon accused.  Then he laughed, and winced.  "It wasn't
fun, dude!"
     "It looked painful," Logan agreed, "You should have seen me the first
time I got an enema."
     Brandon propped his head up on his crooked arm and grinned.  Logan
stared at his sun-bleached brown hair, short and blended down to the tips of
his ears where it was shaved down to almost nothing in the back ... "Tell me
about it, Waterboy!" Brandon suddenly demanded.
     Logan blinked.
     "Humor me, man, I'm sick.  Besides, I know how it feels now."
     "You know, I don't mind when YOU call me that," he said softly.
"Anyway, it was about two years ago, I think.  I was like 12 or so, I
forget.  I was constipated and I hurt.  I didn't wanna tell anyone 'cause I
knew they give me a laxative.  I hate that shit."
     "Green bottle?" Brandon asked.
     Logan nodded, his pale hair flopping over his eyes.  He pushed it back.
  "You sit on the pot all damn DAY!  Anyway, they found me out.  I was
holding my gut and my mom saw it.  She called the Doc.  Said to bring me in
at once, he had a slow day.  I was scared shitless, man.  You don't go to
the Doc for a bellyache.  When we got there, he told me to go to the shower
room and get naked.  Mom was watching - I thought I was gonna die from
embarrassment."
     "Why you think I didn't want MY mom watching me like this?" Brandon
agreed.
     "When I got in there, he felt me all over.  He said somethin' like,
'well, he's plugged up it seems, and hates the green bottle stuff?  OK, well
we can try something new on him.  When I was a boy, they used enemas a lot.
You know what enemas are, Logan?'  I shook my head, hell, I didn't know
then.  Then he brings in this red bag and a white hose with a weird nozzle
on it.  Says he's gonna stick it in my butt, like a thermometer, only it was
gonna fill me up with hot, soapy water and make me go - clean me out.  Well,
I cried.  I begged mom not to let him do it, but she just smiled and stood
there and shook her head.  It was awful, dude.  He fills up this red bag,
and you can smell the coconut soap.  He puts the hose on it and hangs it up
over my head where I can see it.  This white tube is running down from it,
and he lubes up his glove, lubes up the hose, then lubes up my hole."
     "I know," Brandon commented, kicking off his sandals.  Logan joined him
on the floor, kicking off his Vans as well.  The TV went ignored.
     Logan could feel his dick getting hard again, and despite having jacked
off in Brandon's room earlier, he was definitely needing another fix.  "Then
he slides this nozzle up inside of me.  I didn't think it was gonna go.  He
said it was a plug nozzle, so I couldn't leak.  I had no clue what was gonna
happen to me.  Once it's in, it like 'fits' in there.  It felt good, and I
got hard.  I didn't have much then, hell maybe 2 inches, but once it was in
me, I knew I liked it."  Logan's face flushed and he looked at the TV.
Brandon's hand on his own brought him back to the story.
     "Then he opens the clip on the hose up, and I feel this hot water going
up in me.  He tilts the bench back, and starts rubbing my belly, saying he
has to get the water up inside of me far as he can.  It was weird, man.  The
bag flattened out, and I knew the water was UP inside of me.  I started
gettin' hot from it.  Mom just watched, and messed with my hair and held my
hand.  It was like half done when I cramped up.  I was crying, but they
wouldn't let me up.  I thought my guts were gonna blow by the time the bag
was empty!  I was all swelled up like I swallowed a soccer ball, and then he
says I have to wait for 4 minutes for it to work!"
     "Dude, I cramped up too.  I thought I was being knifed in the guts!"
Brandon agreed.
     "When he finally let me go, it was a mess.  I thought it was all over,
but then he makes me take a shower and get back on the bench!  He couldn't
believe what it knocked outta me, he said, and then he gave me another one
of salt water to clean out the soap!"
     "Me too."
     Logan continued.  "When I got done with that and cleaned up, he told my
mom to bring me back in two weeks.  He did it to me again.  He said I should
have one once a month, given my record for getting clogged up.  So, once a
month, I got it.  Mom learned to do it at home, and on the last Friday of
the month after school for like 2 years, she gave me one with soap and one
with a salt water rinse out."
     "When did you start to LIKE it?" Brandon asked flatly.
     Logan thought for a moment.  "I think after the sixth time, maybe?  I
started thinking since I felt good afterwards, that well, it felt good going
in and I might ... you know ..."
     "Like things in the ass?" Brandon supplied.
     Logan's face flamed again, his dick pressing out on his shorts.
Brandon noticed it.  "You're hard!" he pointed out.
     "Are YOU?" Logan asked.  Brandon shook his head.
     "Haven't been much since this all happened," he said dejectedly.
     "Well, I got to thinking there was something wrong with me.  I mean,
who'd get turned on by soapy water and a hose in the ass?" Logan asked,
looking away again.  It was clear that Brandon didn't remember what he had
said on the ride home.  Logan was almost grateful.
     "I don't think there is, buddy, really.  I, uh, kinda liked it too."
     Logan jerked his head back and met Brandon's gaze.
     "Well think about it, man.  Us and the gang, well, you wonder how many
boys get together and jack off, or jack each other?" Brandon asked.
     Logan didn't answer.  "I read somewhere where it's normal behavior," he
offered.
     Brandon looked back down at Logan's crotch.  "Dude, you better do
something about that before it tears out your zipper!"
     "I don't know, I mean, since you can't ..."
     But Brandon interrupted him.  "I know, I can't because of the catheter.
  Besides, I'm only about half hard anyway and it might hurt if I mess with
it.  Is it time for my pain pill yet, 'cause this damn tube's startin' to
burn a little."  Logan looked at his watch.  "Close enough I guess, I'll go
get it."
     His socked feet made no sound on the floor as he went to get the pill.
Brandon slowly took off his long sleeved black T shirt and threw it at the
couch.  He watched the door as Logan came back with 2 cans of soda.  His
eyes were fixed on those white socks and the bare legs above them.  Although
Logan was pale, he tanned well in the summer months - after the first burn
of the year had healed - and his body was still almost totally hairless.  He
watched as the white socks stopped in front of him.  "Here," Logan offered.
Brandon swallowed the pill along with half the can of pop and burped loudly.
  Not to be outdone, Logan did the same thing.  They both found that
incredibly funny.
     Logan stared at his friend and realized that his shirt was off.  He
just stared, not sure what to say.  It was on the tip of his tongue, and he
wanted to.  Subconsciously, he employed his best weapon.  He asked, "You
remember last week?"  He then widened his shifting blue/gray eyes and
sighed, bowing his head.
     "Dammit," Brandon thought, "he sighed!"  He felt his heart beating
harder, and his dick stirred.  It didn't feel too good, but he was
defenseless - again.  "Last week, when we - uh - did THAT, you mean?"
     "We only did it once.  And I know you hated it," Logan responded.
     "It was different," Brandon offered.
      Logan nodded.
      There was an awkward moment of silence, then Logan peeled his orange T
off.  As they usually did, or when the others were there, they would start
with taking the shirts off.  Eventually, the pants would go, but Logan was
unsure how to proceed.  It was Brandon who broke the ice, laying a hand on
Logan's thigh - and leaving it there.
     "You'd think we didn't know each other," he said, "this is nuts.  Shit,
Logan, you know you always get what you want when you sigh and look like
that!  Look, man, I can't get jacked off with this stupid-ass tube stuck up
my dick for two more weeks, but that's no reason for YOU to suffer too.
Just take your shorts off, Logan."
     Logan's first thought was how much he had shot at the Doctor's office,
and then how much he had shot in Brandon's room just hours ago.  It had been
less, but what about Brandon?  Why was he offering?  He didn't want to the
first time they had tried it, but he had gone through with it nonetheless.
Logan remembered tasting Brandon when he came that one time, and since
Brandon had never mentioned it again, he thought that that had been it.
He'd just assumed that Brandon had hated it, not liking the idea of cum
fired into his mouth.  It had been so different from just jacking off, or
jacking each other off.  Having your friend's dick in your mouth was a LOT
different than having it in your hand.  At first, he had worried that taking
their whack-off sessions to the next logical step might have destroyed their
friendship, but he had been wrong.  He had been so wrong.  Slowly, Brandon
reached for his button and zipper.  Brandon's voice quaked as he said, "You
been good to me, Logan.  You helped me, and you didn't make fun of me.
You're here now, and I owe you for that.  I guess ... I guess it's time to
make some adaptations here."  He slowly slid Logan's pants down, exposing
his tight, white briefs.
     Then he laughed.  "No wonder it's so little, dude!"
     "I like tight shorts.  I dunno how YOU wear boxers!" Logan protested,
but Brandon was working those tight shorts off as well.  Logan shook them
off as they were pulled down, and watched as Brandon slowly began to rub his
stiff and aching dick ...
     Logan's cock was rock hard. He could feel Brandon's warm hand slowly
pump his hand up and down his tool. Logan looked down and watched as Brandon
leaned forward and took his balls into his mouth. Logan moaned out loud as
he felt the warmth of Brandon's mouth on his balls. Brandon sucked first on
the right ball then the left one. As Brandon sucked on Logan's left nut, he
got up onto his knees and used his hands to pull down his shorts and boxers
in one motion. He then sat back down and took Logan's right ball back into
his mouth. He pulled his shorts and boxers the rest of the way off, his half
hard boy cock swinging around. Logan saw Brandon's dick and empty ball bag,
and he saw his own dick give a large lurch and a large drop of pre-cum
dripped out and landed on Brandon's cheek. Brandon felt the drop and let go
of Logan's nut. He used a finger to swipe away the pre-cum and sucked it
into his mouth. He looked up at Logan and smiled. Logan smiled back at him.
Brandon took hold of Logan's tool once again in his hand and bent it
downward. He leaned a bit forward again and this time took Logan's 4 inches
into his mouth. At first he sucked in too much and he gagged, but soon he
controlled his gag reflex and his head started to bob up and down on the now
mega-hard boy cock. Logan could not believe the feeling in, on, and around
his cock. He thought Brandon was going to suck his balls out through his
dick. Logan closed his eyes and started to move his hips. He started to fuck
Brandon's mouth, and he took hold of Brandons head. He ran his fingers
through Brandons hair. Logan could not believe the feelings. It hadn't been
like this the first and only time. Brandon felt Logan take hold of his head
and just held his head still as his best friend fucked his face. He used his
tongue to rub the underside of Logan's cock head, making sure to hit that
special spot to make it feel extra good. Brandon's own penis was still only
half hard and Brandon felt a bit of pain as his dick tried to get even
harder. But because of the catheter it could not get fully hard. Brandon
took hold of Logan's balls in his right hand and started to feel up his
friends low hanging balls. He almost teared up as he remembered feeling up
his own balls that he would never feel again. He heard Logan moan again and
felt his friend speed up his thrusting, and he knew his mate would pop soon.
Brandon decided to take a risk and with his left hand index finger he
started to rub around Logan's boy pussy hole. That was too much for Logan
and he blew his load into Brandons mouth. Brandon felt the first blast hit
the back of his throat and he had to swallow it so he could pull back a bit
to catch the rest of his friend's load. Unlike the first time, when he'd
hesitated, Brandon didn't even think.  He just swallowed that first shot.
Blast after blast of teen seed filled Brandon's mouth. After his orgasm
ended, Brandon let Logan pull his now half hard tool from his mouth. Logan
sat down on the floor next to Brandon. Brandon leaned towards Logan and the
boys kissed a deep kiss. Brandon fed Logan some of his own cum, and both
boys swallowed at the same time. As Logan pulled away from Brandon, a small
little string of cum connected there lips together until it broke and both
boys used their tongues to lick it up off there own lips.
     Logan picked up all their clothes and ran upstairs, then came down
again still naked. He had to help Brandon up the stairs. Brandon wanted
another shower, so the boys went into the bathroom. Brandon sat down on the
little stool in the bathtub and since he was still naked, Logan joined him
in the shower. Brandon sat on the stool while Logan washed him from head to
toe. Brandon could not remember when he felt so clean. Logan then washed
himself quickly. He got out and dried off, then helped Brandon out of the
bath and to dry off also. The boys then went into Brandon's room. Logan
borrowed a pair of Brandons boxers, and both boys now dressed only in those
boxers lay down on the bed. After Logan switched the catheter tube from the
bag to the bottle, he lay down next to his friend. The boys hugged and as
they drifted off to sleep, both were thinking the same thing - "I want to
tell him."  Exhausted yet overcome by emotions that neither of them were
sure how to deal with, they said it in unison, both of their faces flaming.
     "I love you."

     When Lois checked in on them later that night upon returning home, she
saw by the dim light of the screen saver on Brandon's computer that they
were asleep together.  Brandon was flat on his back, his torso uncovered
almost to the waist.  Logan was rolled on his side, and one arm was lain
across Brandon's bare chest.  His pale blonde head was resting on Brandon's
shoulder.  Brandon's eyes were darting and forth as he dreamed, and Logan's
chest barely moved as he slept deeply.  "Isn't that just adorable," Lois
whispered to herself, and softly closed the door.