Date: Fri, 6 Nov 2009 21:31:54 -0800
From: Oral Litener <orallite@inbox.com>
Subject: Gambal's Story - Part 4

Disclaimer:

The people and events described here are completely fictional. This story
involves young boys, nudity and graphically depicts preteen sexual
situations. If this offends you, or if there are laws in your area
prohibiting you from reading this type of story...you should go somewhere
else. If you choose to stay and read, I hope you enjoy the story.

If you enjoyed my story (or not), I would love to hear from you at
orallite@inbox.com.

==============================================================================

From Part 3:

"All I want now Enzio is your naked body pressed up against mine," I told
him, "I want to kiss you and hold you and never let you go."

Enzio smiled but it was a sad smile. "You don't really like the
Master/Slave game do you?" he asked.

"No," I confessed, "not really. I don't want to be your master, just your
lover."

Enzio was quiet for a minute -- I could see he was thinking and then my
heart broke -- he started crying.

==============================================================================

Gambal's Story - Part 4

I dropped to my knees and wrapped my arms around Enzio, "I'm sorry, I'm
sorry!" I kept repeating that as I hugged him and kissed his cheek and
neck. I was confused, terribly confused. I didn't know that the game, the
master/slave thing meant so much to him.

"Don't be silly!" I heard him say between his sobs. "You didn't do anything
bad -- you're the only decent boy I've ever known."

"So why are you crying? It must be something I said or did."

"No amore mio," Enzio said softly, almost regretfully. "My sadness is not
because of something you said or did; it is because of something I must
tell you -- something that is very embarrassing -- something that may make
you want to send me home and not speak to me again."

I started shivering inside, my heart was suddenly very heavy in my chest. I
was scared of what Enzio wanted to tell me and was about to tell him that I
didn't want to know or that he didn't have to tell me anything, but I
realized that this was something very important to him, something that in
his mind could destroy our friendship.

"Enzio," I told him in almost a whisper, hugging him harder now and bathing
his face in kisses, "Whatever you have to tell me , I promise -- I promise
with all my heart -- it won't make me love you any less or make me want you
less. You know you don't have to tell me any secrets but you can if you
want. Come on, let's get our undies back on, in case Mom pops in again, and
we'll talk on the bed, and remember you can tell me anything . . .
anything and I will always love you."

Sitting on the edge of my bed, that was when Enzio, hesitantly and
tearfully, told me the story that I related to you in Part 1 of my
story. If you remember, he was repeatedly raped and abused by his brother
and two friends. As he told it to me, tears welled up in his eyes and tears
streamed down my face as well. When he was done, we hugged for the longest
time, the kind of hug that symbolizes a deep, enduring and continuing
friendship -- and I hoped it made him believe that really nothing HAD
changed between us.

Finally Enzio spoke; "I am so sorry amore, I come to you not as a pure and
good boy but as a boy who feels," he put his hand on his chest, "a boy who
feels too dirty to accept your pure and innocent love -- too dirty to
accept your mother's kindness."

"Oh Enzio," I cried -- I was, of course, literally crying and sobbing but
managed to say, "never ever say that. You are NOT dirty! You've had some
bad things happen to you -- things that were not your fault --so don't EVER
think of yourself as dirty and don't think -- even for a minute -- that
anything that happened to you has made me love you less."

"Gam," Enzio said looking deep in my eyes with a pained expression on his
face, "you do not fully understand something . . . I began to enjoy this
treatment the boys gave me, I began looking forward to ther nightly visits
and enjoyed being fucked by them and enjoyed sucking their cocks. Now it
has been two years and I still get excited when I think of being treated as
a sex slave. I AM dirty amore mio! I am a whore!"

"NO Enzio, stop saying that!" I protested. "You're only confused because
you have never known REAL love and I will . . . I promise on my life
. . . I WILL show you real love and after that . . ." I started crying and
sobbing very hard -- I didn't want to finish what I was about to say. Enzio
wrapped his arms around me -- now he was comforting me. I knew I had to
finish what I was going to say, even though it would break my heart just to
say it. "Enzio," I continued through my tears, "stay with me and let me
treat you like the beautiful, sensitive boy you are; you need to understand
that I will never see you as a sex slave and I will never treat you as a
sex slave . . . give me a chance and and if my love isn't enough to satisfy
you, if you still need something else . . . ." I still couldn't say those
words 'you'll have to find someone else' they just wouldn't come out of my
mouth. "But remember you are NOT dirty -- and you are MY 'amore mio' now
and forever!"

Just a second later, amazingly, Enzio started chuckling. I gave him a look
that asked why and he understood my look. "Don't ever," he giggled, "try to
say any Italian words until I teach you. That 'amore mio' was terrible!"

I was filled with so much joy at seeing him smile and hearing his musical
giggle that I could only start laughing.

After awhile, many hugs and sniffles later, "Ok," I said to Enzio, "you
told me your secret, now it's time to hear mine." Enzio stared, not
believeing I could have any dark secret's and he was right mine was not
dark -- but it was dirty.

"My mom told me this," I said smiling, "When I was a little baby, one day I
had a diaper full of poop and she brought me into the bedroom, put me on
the changing table and loosened the diaper, getting ready to pull it off
when the telephone rang. She turned her back to answer the phone, she swore
that she only talked for two minutes -- when she turned back to the
changing table she almost fell down laughing. While her back was turned I
had covered myself, from head to toes with my poop. That's why, from that
day until now, she calls me "poopy head."

Enzio's tears started again but they were tears of laughter. We both fell
back on the bed laughing our butts off.

"What's going on in here?" My mom's head asked as it came through the door.

"Nothing mom," I managed to say through my laughter, "we finished studying
and were just telling jokes."

"Oh!" mom replied. "Well get your clothes on and I'll be calling you for
dinner soon. Your Dad just got home -- and we're also having company for
dinner."

"Yea!" I cheered at the news that dad was home -- I wanted him to meet
Enzio and wanted Enzio to meet him. I grabbed Enzio's hand and pulled him
off the bed. "Come on Enzio, I want you to meet my dad!"

My mom tried to say something but I was too fast, in seconds I was past
her, dragging Enzio behind.

Dad was sitting in his favorite easy chair and appeared to be talking but I
just went ahead and jumped up on his lap, hugged him around his neck and
kissed him -- just like every day. Today, however, my dad seemed oddly
flustered and I didn't understand what was going on until I turned to look
around the room and there, in the arm chair facing dad's was a pretty lady
and a young boy -- the boy looked to be about 7 or 8 y/o.

"Hi Gamble," my father finally said. Then he glanced down at Enzio standing
next to the chair. "And hi to you also, young man."

"Hi!" Enzio said to my dad, "I'm Enzio, Gambal's friend and . . . and
Gambal's mom invited me for dinner too."

I realized when he said that, that neither of us knew the other one's last
name. Now that's funny! As much as we've done together and as mush as we've
shared, we never shared our full names.

"Well I'm pleased to meet you Enzio!" My dad said, "and this," he said
pointing to the lady and the boy, is Lydia Campbell and her son Raymond."

Enzio had not seen Mrs. Campbell and her son in the chair and when my dad
said that he swung around, stared and blushed furiously. We were still, of
course, in our undies and Enzio was embarrassed.

"Hi guys!" Lydia Campbell said looking at Enzio and then at me. This is my
son Ray!" Then to Raymond she said, maybe you and these boys could go and
play while I talk to Mr. Herzog." To us she said, "Is that OK guys?"

"Sure!" I said, we're just goofing around, but we'll be happy to have Ray
join us."

Raymond gave us a bright, toothy smile and walked over to where we were
standing. "Lets go Ray," I said to him, "my room is just down the hall."

"Ok!" Raymond replied.

We started walking toward the hallway and Raymond stopped. He turned back
toward the living room and rushed to his mother's side. He pulled her down
so he could whisper something to her and when he had asked her what he
wanted she cuckled and said, "of course -- that'll be more comfortable for
you too."

(Continued)