Date: 6 May 1999 14:34:38 -0700
From: dai@accesscom.com
Subject: Paul's Plantation - Part 1 (boy/boy - love)

	This story is a fantasy of mine.  It involves boy/boy sex and love. 
	If that is not your "thing", you should not even be in this archive. 
	If you are under 18 you shouldn't be here, but enjoy it anyway.
	If you have comments please direct them to dai@accesscom.com

PAUL'S PLANTATION
by David


Part 1 - The Hospital

	Sitting at the table and waiting for the so called "therapy
session" to start, I find myself starring out the window across the
courtyard, with its truncated, half basketball court on one end of the
asphalt and picnic tables on the other. In the background beyond a small
area of grass I can see the fifteen foot high chain-link fence topped with
barbed wire.  (Could this be Auschwitz?).
	There is a thunderstorm approaching, which matches my mood.  I can
see an occasional flash of lightning off in the distance and the squall
line approaching.  It should not be many more minutes before it starts to
rain here.  Typical Spring weather.
	I should probably, at this point, explain where "here" is.
	"Here" is the "Grandview Youth Residence."  Actually, it is an
insane asylum for kids.  The brochure that is given to the parents of the
prospective "inmates", tries to glorify it and say that it is a live-in
psychiatric facility for adolescents with "emotional" or "behavioral"
problems.  Factually, it is a "dumping ground" for families with money (and
a great deal of it) who are unable or unwilling to deal with their
children.  Each of the twenty-five boys and ten girls has caused a
"scandal" in their families.  All the way from shop-lifting to
cock-sucking.
	By the way, I am the cock-sucker.  My name is Paul Trimble and I am
thirteen.  Six months previously my father had caught me sucking the cock
of my best friend. It was not the first time we had done each other.  We
had been jacking off and sucking each other for about two months before my
father had caught us.
	Yeah, I know.  I should have been more careful.  I should have at
least locked my bedroom door or made sure that my parents were definitely
going to be gone for the day, but, I had fantasized about doing this with
my friend for so long (it had been a couple of weeks since we had been able
to be alone together again), that I wasn't thinking properly.  The worst
part about it was that I was so close to getting Carl off and also cumming
myself (with judicious use of my saliva slickened hand) when the old man
walked through the door, that until his "roar" of anger found its way
through to my excited senses, I was in nirvana and didn't realize that we
had company.
	I am not sure why I did, but I had allowed Carl to get away with
letting our parents think that it was all MY idea.  He got sent to a
"Military Academy" and I got sent to this hell-hole. I have begun to
believe that I was probably a little bit in love with Carl, and since I
could care less what my parents thought of me (since I thought nothing of
them)and Carl at least had some feelings for his parents and they had some
for him, I decided to take the fall.
	Carl and I had started out innocently enough, that two months
prior, with his request for some help with some school work that he had
missed because of some kind of illness.  He had been chauffeured home with
me one Friday afternoon right after last period at the private academy that
we both attended.
	My parents had, of course, not been home.  My father was most
likely at his place of business in the financial district office building
that he also happened to own.  I hadn't even seen him for the last two
weeks; he seemed to work 24 hours a day, and he never seemed to have time
for me.  I mean, talk about a workaholic. As far as I knew he didn't even
have a mistress or some "bimbo" that he was porking. Nothing but work,
work, work.
	My mother was probably somewhere doing some her "charity" work.
She was not one of those who thought that charity started at home.  She was
more interested in making a "good impression" on her high society friends.
I did have a few suspicions that she has had a "lover" or two over the
years.  The way my father does nothing but work I was pretty sure that she
wasn't getting any at home.
	Anyway, back to my story; about an hour after we arrived in my
bedroom and while we were both going through our school notes, Carl had
asked if he could use the bathroom.  I had told him to help himself and
said that I would even join him.  At that time I had not even thought about
doing anything sexual, but as we both unzipped before the toilet bowl, he
had looked down and across to watch me take my dick in my hand.
	I, of course, had done the same thing once I had noticed him
looking at me.  He was circumcised, unlike me, although we were just about
the same length.  Mine had grown somewhat within the last month and I had a
few dark hairs around it (maybe four or five on either side)whereas Carl
was still hairless.
	I was a little shocked when he reached across and took my dick into
his hand.  No one had ever touched me there before.  He seemed fascinated
by my foreskin and was gently pulling it back and forth, watching the head
appear and disappear.  I was almost immediately hard.  I had played with my
cock almost every night once I was in bed for the last three months, and
although jacking-off felt very good, it in no way felt like it did now that
Carl took hold of it.  Almost immediately I could feel that I was
approaching the fantastic feelings that I usually got when I played with
myself.  Suddenly I was spurting across his fingers and into the toilet
bowl.  Although I had done some spurting of my juices before, it had never
felt this intense.  It was the strongest orgasm that I had ever had up
until that time.  I actually had to grab onto Carl as my legs seemed to
buckle under me.
	After I came down from my high and wanting to give Carl the same
thrill, I took some more of my juice that was still seeping out of my cock
in my hand and reached for his cock.  Even though Carls' eyes appeared to
be bugging out as he watched me unload, they opened even wider and he
moaned as my cum coated hand surrounded his hard pole.
	Momentarily removing my hand from him, I scooted behind him,
reached around his waist and taking hold of his dick began jacking him off
as if it were my own. Withing seconds his body seized up, and as his load
shot, his legs buckled and he collapsed against me.
	His reaction was so extreme that I just had to ask, "Have you ever
cum before?"
	"No, never," he answered.  After a few more deep breaths, he went
on to say, "I never had anything come out before, and although it had felt
good before, I have never felt like that."
	Upon catching his breath he exclaimed "That was awesome!"
	I finally unwrapped my fist from around his now soft dick and
stepped back.  He shyly smiled at me and I at him.
	"Well," I said with some hesitation, "I hope you won't think that I
am weird when I say that I would like to do that again sometime."
	"If that is weird, then I am weird." he said. "Damn man, we can do
that anytime you want."
	And of course we did.

		       * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

	"Hey, cock-sucker," the fat slob of a kid named Trevor, sitting
next to the doctor at the head of the table yells, "Doctor Parker is
talking to you.  Where's your head?  Up somebody's ass?"
	Trevor, as you may have already guessed, is the doctors'
ass-kisser.  He comes on to every new kid, as he or she arrives, as if he
wants to be their best friend.  The staff get him to show you around and to
try to get you to talk.  He then immediately runs and tells either the
doctor or the staff what he learns.  He is a bully and a whiner.  He will
even make things up about new kids to tell, just so that he can make
brownie points.  Personally, I have made it a point to try to get to new
kids before he does and warn them about him.
	With a smile on my lips (although not in my eyes), I ask Trevor if
he got out of the wrong side of his wet bed this morning.  He does not like
to be reminded that he pisses his bed almost every night.
	"Now then, Paul," Dr. Parker says, trying to stop the "therapy"
session from deteriorating too far this early in the meeting, "you know the
rules about getting into personalities in our sessions."
	My black mood swings into high gear.  "Oh, so then it is alright
for him to call me a cock-sucker, but I can't say anything about his
bed-pissing problems, huh?  Fuck, what's going on here?  You swinging on
his dink, doc?  I know he has tried to get me to suck on it.  The only
problem was that it was so small that he couldn't find it amongst all that
fat."
	"THAT'S ENOUGH," Dr. Parker yells.  He catches himself and clears
his throat.  Softly, trying to be more professional, he then says "If you
cannot conduct yourself better, Paul, the next time you make such
outrageous comments you will be confined to your room and miss the end of
our session and the ice-cream treat that everyone else will get."
	I was so pissed by that time, that I just couldn't keep my mouth
shut.  (I guess one of these days I will learn).
	"Shit," I exploded, "did you graduate at the bottom of your
class, doc?  'Cause you sure don't seem to be able to do you job around
here properly.  Who gives a fuck for your ice-cream treat.  All it is, is a
bribe to keep our mouths shut, so that we don't tell our parents as to
really what goes on around this child-molesters paradise.  And by the way,
does that brown ring around Trevors' nose mean that he has his nose up your
ass?"
	Up and down both sides of the table the other kids where trying
real hard to hide their giggles.  None of them, except for Trevor, liked
this ass-hole.  Even Mary, who is scared to say "Boo" and is afraid of her
shadow, is giggling.
	Before I came to this place I was never like this.  I really think
that I was an easy-going kid.  I really liked people and was bright,
energetic and friendly.  This insane asylum had had one effect on me.  It
brought out a side of me that I had never knew I had before.  I was not
going to take shit from anyone.
	Parker glared at me.  I no longer gave a shit.  But I knew that I
was in trouble, so I figured that I would go for broke.
	"How much are my parents paying you doc?  They sure aren't getting
their money's worth.  Where are your "gorillas" and their needles full of
Thorazine?  Shit, I am surprised that you haven't had them shoot me full of
it yet so that you could take my virginity .  Wow, so that is what was
happening when you invited me one night into your office.  I didn't really
put two and two together, but you were trying to seduce me, you old
ass-hole bandit."
	Just then one of his "goons" came through the door. I guess the
"doc" had used his little button under the table to call for them
	"Take Paul to his room," the doc said to him, "and strap him down.
I will deal with him later."
	Before I knew it, I was being dragged from the room by two of his
giant goons.

		      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

	I have to admit that I was scared shitless about what would happen
next.  The only thought that kept running through my mind was asking myself
why I had opened my big mouth?  I was thinking about all kinds of
punishments that they could give me. Filling me full of Thorazine (or
whatever they use these days) until I was too dopey to even know what I was
doing. Or maybe beating me with leather straps.  Or even worse, zapping me
with Electro-Shock Therapy where I would remember absolutely nothing the
next morning.
	Parker's job, as far as my parents were concerned, was to "cure"
me.  They could not have a son and heir who was queer.  So far, in the
months that I had spent in this place, I had been able to defy his best
efforts to "change" me.  He had started out by trying to become my "buddy."
I am sure that you know the scene: Let's talk man to man, and we both know
that "men" do not do that type of thing together: and, I must uphold the
honor of my family name and not let my father down.
	When I answered back with something like; well, if by being a man
it would mean that I would have to be something like him, then I would
rather remain being a cock-sucker, or with something like; I am not any
different than my father really, he fucks his clients for their money and I
fuck with boys for my pleasure, Parker knew that he was not going to win me
over that way.
	After that Parker no longer tried to change me.  I have no idea
what he told my father, but it seems as if I was going to be spending a
long, long time in this place.

		   * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

	I waited hours for Parker to come and give me the shots.  But he
did not arrive.  Several hours after being strapped spread-eagled to my bed
in just my underwear, I awoke to hear some godawful commotion from
Parkers' office - which was just across the hallway from my room - and
since it didn't sound like Parkers' voice, I was hoping that it was
somebody reaming Parker out.  But that didn't make much sense either since
Parker was the head of the sanitarium.
	The next thing I knew was seeing Parker looking through the tiny
tempered glass window in the door to my room and of the key being turned in
the lock.  Oh, God, I thought, here it comes.  My ass is grass now.
	Parker came through the door quickly followed by some dude that I
had never seen before.  This guy was dressed in a dark blue suit, white
shirt and tie and I guess, because of the rain, was wearing a raincoat.
Both Parker and this guy were red in the face.  I figured this was the guy
who had been yelling at Parker.  But surely he was not Parkers boss or
anything, mainly because he was one hell of a lot younger than the doc.  He
was a good looking dude of about twenty five.  Taller than Parker, who was
short, fat and dumpy.  He had blonde hair and blue eyes just like me.
	Taking a deep breath when he saw me, he told Parker to unstrap me.
The guys face had turned from red to purple and was now turning white.  He
was furious.  The doc hemmed and hawed about the fact that I was being
punished.  The dude looked at Parker and told him that unless I had
physically struck someone and caused injuries, and unless I was released
within thirty seconds he would see about suing both Parker and the
sanitarium for child abuse, and whatever other charges he could think of
between now and tomorrow.  He then went on to say that even if he did not
win the suit, that it would bring such notoriety to the Institute and to
Parker that he would probably lose all his patients and be tied up in court
for months and maybe years. I liked this new guy, whoever he was.
	Parkers' face turned white, not from fury but from fear.  I could
see that he was scared of such a scandal.  He called one of his goons and
had him release me. Oh, it was a great pleasure to have those leather
straps that were holding me spread-eagled on the bed removed. I sat up on
the edge of my bed, pulled the blanket over my bare legs to try and show
some modesty, and looked from one to the other of the men.
	The new guy then told Parker to leave the room and to close the
door behind him since he wanted to talk to me alone.  Parker started to
object. The guy just looked at him.  Parker just shooed the goon out of the
room and followed him out.  Just as he was going to close the door Parker
said that he was going to have the attendant watch through the window.
	"Fine," the new guy said, "but if he interferes with us for
anything less than this boy trying to murder me, I will make sure that the
Institute will be sorry."
	Parker gave this new guy a dirty look but closed and locked the
door and the technician (they are officially called psychiatric technicians
by the way - not goons) stationed himself at the window after we heard
Parker tell him and also to watch us so that this new guy didn't pass me
anything that might be considered contraband.  Both of us in the room knew
that Parker was talking especially loud specifically so that we would hear
him, because normally you can't hear anything through the door when it is
spoken in a normal tone of voice.  For a moment we both laughed, because we
both knew exactly what Parker was doing.
	This new guy then pulled the one chair in the room from under the
little table in the corner, turned it around and sat on it backwards.  That
is he used the back of the chair as an armrest.
	We looked at each other for about a minute.  I certainly was not
going to start the conversation - not with the trouble I was already in,
and having no idea who this dude was.
	Finally he opened his mouth.  "Paul, I am your Uncle Mike," he
said.
	It took me a second or two to comprehend what he had said.  "I have
no Uncle Mike," I told him.
	"I am your mothers younger brother," he said.  "It really does not
surprise me that you have never heard of me - your mother and father have
never had anything to do with me since about two years after you were born,
in fact they never talked to me after I was about 16."
	"Why was that?" I just had to ask.
	He cleared his throat. "Um, they discovered . . . , Um, that is
they found out that I was gay." He stumbled through the statement.
	"Well then," I said, "I am surprised that they allowed you to
visit me in here, especially since that is what they are trying to cure me
of in this fucking place.  I find it hard to believe that they are allowing
you to help me after sending me to this hell-hole."
	"Not exactly," he mumbled.  He hesitated. "Paul, I am really very
sorry to have to tell you this, but . . . your parents were killed in a
plane crash yesterday afternoon."  The last part of this came tumbling out
of his mouth very fast.  He really was uncomfortable with this.
	I sat there staring at him.  My jaw dropped and unknown to myself
right then, tears began to course down my cheeks.  Yes, my parents and I
disagreed on just about anything and everything.  Not so many minutes ago I
had even hated them for sending me to this place - but I certainly did not
hate them enough to wish them dead.  Or at least I don't think I did.  I
mean . . . after all they were my parents.
	I was confused.  I was hurting.  Sobs began racking my body.  I
didn't understand how I felt.  A part of me was glad that they were dead
after the way that they had treated me.  I was angry at them for leaving me
all alone.  I was only thirteen.  What was I supposed to do with myself.  I
hated myself for hating them and feeling glad that they were dead.  Oh,
God, what was I going to do.
	This uncle, whom I had never before seen, and certainly never heard
of, stood up and came across and sat down next to me and wrapped his arms
around me.  I burst into tears and grabbed on to him tight.  Nestling my
face into his neck, I cried like I never had before.  He held me, gently
but strongly.  For the first time in a very long time I did not feel alone.
I must have cried for over 5 minutes, but as my sobs eased, he moved one
arm and came up with a handkerchief.  Gently he wiped my cheeks and had me
blow my nose.
	(When I was younger, I had often cried myself to sleep, alone in my
bed or at least where no-one could see me, for some hurt or another, either
real or imaginary, scraped knee or hurt feelings, but never with someone to
comfort me.  For the first time in my life I felt protected.)
	When I felt able to talk again, I asked him what was going to
happen to me now?  Was there anyway that I could get out of here?  Who was
going to look after me? Was he?  What relative, since I really don't know
of any other than him, was going to get me?  If I could get out of here
where was I going to live?
	"Hey, buddy," he said, "As far as I know I am your only relative."
(No adult had ever called me buddy before - I didn't know how to take it.)
	"But let's take one question at a time, huh.  First, you will come
to live with me for a while - at least until you make up your own mind as
to what you want to do."
	I started to interrupt him, but he asked me to let him finish
before asking any more questions as he would probably answer some of them
as he was going along.
	"Yes, you are going to get out of here, in fact my lawyer should be
calling Doctor Parker almost any time with the court order releasing you to
my custody.
	Next, I would go to live with him for a while, and then together,
he and I would make a decision as to what I wanted to do with my life."
	"I don't know if you know it or not Paul," he said next, "but you
are a very, very wealthy young man."
	I looked at him with astonishment.  I hazily knew that my parents
had money but I certainly had no idea that we were wealthy if it meant that
we had lots and lots of money.  Looking puzzled I just had to ask, "what do
you mean by very, very wealthy?"
	Well, no-one knows exactly yet, since your parents wills have not
been probated, but probably somewhere in the neighborhood of $700 million."
	I looked at him as if he were crazy, my eyes must have been bugged
out of my head. "You're shitting me!" I exclaimed. "No-one has that kind
of money."
	"No, I'm not," he said laughing.
	"Fucking Alright!" I exclaimed.  "That means that I can fucking buy
and sell several dozen fucking people like fucking Parker and his fucking
goon squad."
	A weird look came over my uncles' face.  It looked like he didn't
know whether to laugh, cry or something else. "I know that you have not had
it easy for the last several months," Uncle Mike said, "and that this is
not the best place in the world to be, but language like that does not
sound good coming from the mouth of a thirteen year old."  I opened my
mouth to say something back at him, but he continued on as he raised the
palm of his hand to stop me.  "I know, I know," he said, "payback is a
mother-fucker, to use your own kind of language.  But give me a chance over
the next couple of months and I think I can show you a few ways that you
can pay back people like them without making unnecessary enemies and
hurting any innocent people."
	I looked at his skeptically.
	"Believe me," he said then, "I have a little idea of what you have
gone through recently, and there are a lot of things, with a fortune like
yours, that you can do to change things.  One of those things is, that you
are going to have to win over and influence powerful people.  Your money
can help you do that, but if you have a filthy mouth - or I should say that
if you use it in public, you are going to make enemies.  I want to help
you, but you have to give me a chance to show you what I mean.  Ok?"
	I thought about it for a minute.  Then I smiled at him and told him
ok.
	He smiled back and told me to get dressed so that we could "get the
flock out of here."
	I laughed and started to get dressed.  Five minutes later I was
dressed and still chuckling.  Two minutes after that I was walking out the
front door with my Uncle Mike.  It seems Parker got the call from Mike's
lawyer who had awakened a judge and got a writ of Habeas Corpus (whatever
that is) and suggested that if Dr. Parker did not want to appear at 9 a.m.
tomorrow to show cause why he should not be held in contempt of court, I
had better be released immediately into the custody of my closest relative.
	As I walked out the front door I promised myself that I would try
everything in my power to see what I could do to get all the other kids out
of this place (except Trevor of course).  I was just sorry that Parker
hustled me out so fast that I didn't have a chance to let them know that I
would try to help - (maybe that was the reason that Parker rushed us both
out the front door).
	
			 * * * * * * * * * * * * *

End of Part 1