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Nifty - Gay - Adult Youth - Boys Tale - Boys Tale 3

 
Date: Sun, 16 Mar 2003 22:50:15 +0000
From: Angela Mynah <angela_mynah@msn.com>
Subject: boys-tale, Johns Story Chapter three

A Boys Tale, John's Story.

Chapter 3. Two and Two halves return tickets to Hell please.

Dear reader this is the third and final part of a tale about a current love
that dare not speak its name, Boylove. It is a tale involving sexual
encounters between various people, both youth and adult, male and female,
and a certain young, willing and happy boy. If that offends you, or such
writings are illegal in your area, then now would be a good time to leave.
For the sake of certain aspects of the law, all the names have been changed,
even those of people no longer in this world. Although this story is mainly
fictional, it is loosely based on a real life, but now the fictional content
is by far the greater part.

My dear fellow, it's a pleasure to see you again. I have been wondering what
tales to tell, what adventures to relate. There are so many. I suppose it
would be sensible to just carry on in chronological order. But when you are
as old as I am, sometimes the order gets confused a little. Now let me see.
When you last visited me here, I told you that my court appearance went
smoothly and although I was still rather upset at loosing my identity and
the last vestiges of my real parents, it was a case of `Stiff upper lip, an
Englishman doesn't cry in public',,,,,,,,,,, and this one didn't.

This had less to do with the bravery of a child and much more to do with the
mental plans I was making for the party that was soon to come. It had
initially been set for the following day but as so many were going to attend
it was decided that the weekend after would be better, it would give mum
more time to do all the work. I should point out that in those days
attitudes were a little different. `The little woman at home' was considered
the norm in those less enlightened days. The other reason the party was to
be delayed for a week was that it was also Gerry and Ian's eighth birthday.
That was the groups age for boys to become active, and not just `Eye Candy'.
Chris and Stevie would be the only boys left holding that rank now now.

The guest list was in fact the whole group plus Aunty Jean. Now I know that
I have not really described the whole group in detail, perhaps it will help
you if I do. I will lay it out as I did to Mummy and Daddy by the ages. T is
twin and f is female. I did so for them to show I knew to whom I could
discus things. I do it for you to help you sort it all out.

Richards Benson Ekland King Foster Tompkins
Sharpe Bullman
George Jack Charlie Bob Derek Reg
James Dick
Sally Olive Rose Ann May Iris
Gladys Betty

Alan DeeDee Peter Richard Graham Mike
Eric Laurence
10 13 f 15 12 12 t
14 10 11 t
John David Anna Robin Keith Oliver
Gerry Paul
10 11 14 f 10 12 t
12 7 t (8) 11 t
Daniel Mark Susie
Nigel Ian Andrew
9 11 10 f
11 7 t (8) 9 t
Ruth Simon
Mary William
10 f 8
9 t f 9 t

Margaret

9 t f

Stevie

7 (No touch)

Chris

5 (No touch)

As the party was a double celebration and was to be held at our house,
Gladys Sharpe had volunteered to help and would be round all day on Friday
assisting with the cooking and cleaning. Peter, Mike and Anna had been
seconded to go shopping on Friday after school for everything except the
drinks, those would be bought on Saturday morning by George and James. Jean
Hawker, who was worried that she was contributing little to the group,
insisted that she too went shopping for bits and pieces for the party, an
offer gratefully received. All was set. It was to be a long day as the party
was scheduled to start at 11 am Saturday, and go on till, well, go on till
whenever really.

How Alan and I ever got to sleep on Friday night is a mystery to me, I had
asked him if he minded if I made love to him in front of everybody at the
party and I thought he was going to cry. He had wanted me to take his body
every night since the dreadful trials, and had worried terribly when I had
not. In truth I had been frightened that I would not be able to do it, but I
knew that having an audience would help me, the idea excited me so much. We
had a night of total celibacy, which also stopped us going so sleep, lying
there with two little boners and our refusing to touch them, you know I
still chuckle to myself about that even to this day.

I awoke first. It was nearly 7 am and I looked at Alan's sleeping face. We
had inched ourselves together during the night and his head had somehow
managed to get itself onto my pillow. I recalled how Aunty Jean liked to
lick me, and looking at Alan I understood why. His small turned up nose with
those five little freckles was just begging to be kissed. Those eyelids, so
soft and his long fair eyelashes, they were pleading with me to pay them
some attention. His cheeks were so smooth, a peach like complexion and ever
so slightly rosy. Then my eyes fell upon those lips, rich red moist lips.
There was nothing I could see that I didn't want to kiss, there was nothing
lying next to me that I didn't want to love. I quietly got out of bed. I was
as stiff as a rod and I wondered if he was hard too, so I put my head under
the bedclothes to take a closer inspection. In the dim light available I
could see his soft flaccid penis resting between his legs. He had a small
mole not an inch away from its base, I could just see it. I was wondering if
it would be possible to take him in my mouth without waking him when...

SLAPPPP! Right on the cheeks. Mr Richards, sorry, Daddy, had just walked
into the room, to find his first born fast asleep and me, my head under the
bedclothes and my naked bubble butt stuck up in the air. It was a target he
could not resist. The shock of it made me jump in the air taking most of
the bedclothes with me, leaving Alan, startled into consciousness, naked and
uncovered, and looking confused. I was standing there rubbing my backside
whilst daddy was beside himself with laughter, tears rolling down his face.
He didn't make much noise when he laughed but he fell into the chair in
uncontrolled fits.

Alan got off the bed and walked round, he could see that I was rubbing one
cheek and that it was noticeably pinker than the other one, so he worked out
what, but not how or why. It was left to me to do that, dad still being
unable to. Alan looked at his dad.

"You're going to pay for that when we play at the party Daddy, we're going
to make you squirt in your pants. You see if we don't"

"Awww don't be cruel" he replied "It was a bottom set up in the air just
waiting for a slap. It was a job that just had to be done." With that he
grabbed us both round our waists and carried us to the bathroom, Our bath
had already been run and that was why he had come into our bedroom anyway.
He lifted us and stood us both in it.

"You two are going to have to share the bath or we will be out of hot water
by them time its my turn."

He was just about to leave the bathroom when he turned to see me being
lathered up by Alan. We both smiled as he turned and sat down to watch an
impromptu show. Alan was very thorough, and also very careful not to spend
much time on my erect boymeat. He had realised that anything my sex rod
wanted to do, had to be saved for later. He poured the warm bath water over
my hair and washed it, lathering it wonderfully then rinsing. We looked
across to daddy to find he had been joined by Mummy, Aunty Jean and Gladys
Sharpe. She had dropped round to ask the honoured guest what the dress code
was to be for all the kids. I was in no doubt. They could choose either
Sunday best or School uniform, in some cases that was one and the same but
not for all of them. It meant that I would be dressed as I had been on my
first ever party here, when I was `publicly unwrapped'.

Whilst I lathered Alan and started washing him, I asked what the twins,
Gerry and Ian would be wearing. Gladys said that their choice would almost
certainly be Sunday Best, a set of clothes they had been bought very
recently and that was almost a perfect match with Alan's and mine. I rinsed
Alan's body and was washing his hair when Jean asked Gladys if the twins
knew what was going to happen and if they were at all shy about it. Her
reply was music to my ears.

"No Jean, not shy at all. They have been looking forwards to this for weeks
now. Nobody really knows what will happen, the agenda is given to the guests
of honour, and that's John and the twins. They don't really know what they
want, so they will hand it all to John most likely. You will need to put
your thinking cap on if they do, young John. We all like to be entertained."

My mind was racing. I had been told that `Eye Candy' was never allowed to be
naked in the group so this was to be Ian and Gerry's first display of public
nudity. I didn't want to ask if various ideas I had been having, had been
tried, I didn't want to spoil the surprise, so I took the gamble and said
nothing, hoping that I had come up with something new. I also hoped I had
worked out something for everyone.

Alan and I stepped out of the bath and dried each other in front of our
small but appreciative audience. While George ran a bath for Sally, Jean and
Gladys followed us into our room and dressed us. Jean whispered to me that
if there was any chance at all, she would like a little girl to play with.
That would prove no problem, Gladys remembered to tell me that Ann King also
preferred the girls, so that would be three each. I asked Gladys if she
would contact Mr Tompkins and ask him to bring a spare pair of trousers,
with braces. I wouldn't say what they were for, but after recent events, He
would refuse me nothing.

I went downstairs with Alan, Gladys and Aunty Jean. Alan and I looking
dressed to kill. Those lambs wool yellow v neck sweaters soft as ever,
freshly ironed white cotton shirts, and those stone coloured trousers. I was
looking forwards to seeing the twins. They were a cute little pair, and
hearing that they were to be dressed in a similar way to Alan and I, gave me
another stiffy. Gladys left to pick up some last bits and pieces so Aunty
Jean, Alan and I carried on getting the rooms ready. It was Ten o'clock when
Sally and George announced that the house was ready for the kiddyfest, and
we all sat down with a cup of coffee. While we were relaxing before the
`Do', party etiquette was explained to me. As the senior `Guest of Honour' I
would pretty much run the day but I must make sure that the twins wishes
were always taken into account as it was their `coming out' party too.
Adults would ask me for favours (normally asking for a particular boy) and
unless it interfered with my plans, it was considered to be courteous to
agree to them. Lastly and most importantly, `No' meant no, and was to be
respected at all times. Nobody was to be talked into doing anything that
they would prefer not to do. I had no problem with any of this, and looked
forward to the start of the ceremony. I was delighted when, at ten thirty,
Gladys reappeared with her husband (our form teacher) James Sharpe and Eric
plus of course the birthday twins, Ian and Gerry.

Cute was not the word for them, they were drop dead gorgeous. They had been
allowed to grow their strawberry blonde hair a little longer. Under their
little button noses it looked like someone from a toothpaste company had
polished their teeth . They shone brilliant white behind those rose red
lips. Dazzling aquamarine eyes completed the facial features of these
examples for boyhood perfection. They were identically dressed, and the only
difference between their clothes and ours, were that their v neck pullovers
were pale blue rather than yellow and that they were wearing short trousers.
For their birthday, they had each been given fine gold chain necklaces
with identity disc St Christopher's on. They also wore identity bracelets.
They were Identical twins and these bracelets were just about the only way
to tell them apart if you didn't know them well. They asked me if they could
talk to me away from everybody else, so we went up to my bedroom.

They were excited about today as it made them feel less liken little kids,
but were shy about asking anybody to do anything for them. They wanted to be
the centre of attention for a while but not for the whole time. They asked
me if I would run their part of the party for them. I asked them if they
would like to be the first to be naked today and they nodded
enthusiastically. I described my plan to them for the first event and they
laughed. I could see from their trousers that laughter was not the only
reaction they had to the idea. We agreed that they would assist Alan and me
in all the games I had planned, and I gave them a quick run down of all my
plans.

We had gone back downstairs and I described my schemes to Alan, when the
front door bell rang. It was Aunty Jean. Alan answered the door to her.
George and Sally were rather amused, firstly to hear Alan announce the
guest, then to see him present her to us in a very formal way. After being
presented to the twins and me and receiving a kiss from each of us she was
presented to George and Sally. It was amusing to them because she had
already been here. Alan had asked her to go out of the back door and to walk
round to the front so she could `arrive'. The system had proved to work
smoothly and seconds later the bell went again. It was the Tompkins family.

Oh the Tompkins family. They had done us proud, really making the effort to
make each and every child look as attractive as possible. The two youngest,
Stevie and Chris at seven and five years old were still restricted to being
`eye candy' and were they ever !! They were wearing their white shirts,
school ties and Speedos and nothing else at all. Margaret and Mary were as
is so often the way with twins, dressed identically. I recognised the outfit
immediately. It was an exact copy of the girls clothes Aunty Jean had got me
to wear for Alan, a silk blouse with the enamelled butterfly buttons and
sweet little yellow dress over it. They looked good enough to eat, and I was
sure Aunty Jean and Ann King would do just that. They were to have one each.
Then Oliver and Nigel were presented to me, in full school uniform and
looking very smart. I was yet to see either of those two boys naked, and
rather looked forwards to the sight. Last came Mike who at 14 was the oldest
child in the family. He was in Scouts uniform. Gerry standing next to me had
developed an immediate bulge on seeing Nigel, so I had that one sorted out
in my mind.

Next to join the party were the Bensons, Jack and Olive. Their three
children, DeeDee, David and Daniel were all in school uniform. I noticed
Aunty Jeans legs nearly buckle when she saw DeeDee. So one quick word to her
as she kissed me and she too knew her duties of the party. She went and
collected Mary and took her to Aunty Jean. The pair of them knelt down
before her and heads bowed DeeDee said.

"Miss Hawker, It is our honour to be assigned to you tonight. We are to
ensure that at all times you want for nothing. Use us as you will. We are
here to serve you and to satisfy your desires."

There was a little round of applause for the speech well delivered. Luckily
nobody but Jean heard DeeDee say to her that nobody could do Jack Shit,
until I had said they could, till then they just had to grin and bear it.
DeeDee liked the idea of doing whatever Jean wanted and was getting
increasingly juicy at the prospect. Mary too seemed more than content with
what the cards had dealt her.

Out of the corner of my eye I was sure I saw David kiss Oliver, which sorted
out another section of the entertainment. Charlie and Rose Ekland arrived at
the same time as Bob and Ann King. As Anna was presented to me I asked her
to collect Margaret and together they were to serve Ann King for the
evening. Young Ruth I sent over to join DeeDee and Mary to serve Aunty Jean,
who was almost beside herself with joy at the way the day was shaping up for
her. Almost immediately after being presented to me I saw Peter approach
Mike and they too seemed to be making a couple, whilst Mark went over to
Nigel and Eric and started chatting.

Very soon and both arriving together came Derek and May Foster along with
Dick and Betty Bullman, and their families Susie Foster walked over and
joined Anna and Margaret. The three of them went to Ann King, knelt down and
Anna repeated the speech that DeeDee had given to Jean. There was another
little round of applause and Mrs King gave me a nod of appreciation.

Graham, Keith and Simon Foster were all in school uniform as were Laurence
and Paul. Andrew and William were in their Cub Scout uniforms and looking as
cute as ever.

In those days before computer games had raised their hideous heads, there
were all sorts of party games that were favourites at children's parties.
One of these was Pass the Parcel. It was a simple game but all kids enjoyed
it. A ring of children would sit down and one would be given a parcel. This
parcel had been wrapped with many layers of wrapping paper. Music would be
played and the parcel would be handed round the ring. When the music
stopped, whoever was holding the parcel would take just one of the layers of
paper off it, then the music resumed and the parcel would carry on being
passed. The child taking the final layer of paper off, kept the contents as
his or her prize.

I had thought up a variation of this game, the circle comprised all the
adult males plus Peter Ekland. At 15 I decided He would be an adult at this
party. That separated him from Mike and he didn't look best pleased about
that, till I put a label on Mike that said "Prize" and winked across the
room at him. Once the gentlemen were seated I explained the variations of
the game to them, it was not a difficult concept to grasp. The parcels were
not wrapped in paper, they were wrapped in clothes. In the first round the
parcels would be Ian and Gerry, being `passed' round at the same time. I
made it clear that they were however not the prize as they had other
functions to perform that day. To stop any cheating, the boys had to be
passed in time to the music, so nobody could hold on to one for too long. It
also made it easier for me to cheat and fix the result. I stood by the piano
and Mum prepared to play it.

Gerry and Ian were led into the ring and each was handed to a man. I nodded
to mum and she started to play. I was leaning on the piano and when I
slightly lifted a finger, she stopped playing. The boys who had been passed
from man to man stopped and put their hand out to the man they were with.
There was a table in the middle of the circle and the two angels were lifted
on to it. I called out "One Shoe" and the men who had won that round first
had to take a shoe off their boy then rub lick kiss or suck anything that
had just been exposed. Both men stroked a stockinged foot. The music
resumed, stopping moments later when the other shoe was removed off each
boy. Then each sock went in the same fashion. Now it was getting more
interesting. Their bare feet had been licked and kissed and the boys were
put back on the floor.

As the music restarted and the boys resumed their circuit I noticed
something that certainly played in my favour. James Sharp was sitting next
to Peter, He would not be trying to win the star moment of exposing one of
his own sons, and opposite Peter was Reg Tompkins, who would not select his
own son as a prize. This was going to be easier that I had first thought.
The music stopped and I called out "Shorts" there was a murmur of approval
as the boys were once again placed on the table and two pairs of distinctly
tented briefs were revealed. Both boys went pink but were still all smiles.
Inner thighs were being licked, caressed and kissed. The next stop I called
for the ties to be removed and the top button of their shirts to be undone.
Seeing the boys wearing just those pullovers with white cotton open neck
shirts, and their clean white briefs so obviously tented was an erotic sight
in itself. Watching them being passed round in that state was hot beyond
words. The following halt those soft blue lambs wool pullovers came off.
Then as the shirts were removed leaving the boys in briefs only, the mood of
the room swung. What had been jolly was now charged with electricity.

The tenting of the briefs was clear for all to see, and all were looking.
The blushes of the boys made them look so sexy and to my relief their smiles
were as broad as ever. The music started for the final time in this game.
The boys completed the first lap and I got ready. I missed my chance the
first time as Ian passed Peter. However, because it didn't matter who Peter
caught, I got ready as Gerry came round to him but I missed it again. The
rhythm was running then, and people started to clap in time with it. Seeing
the boys so aroused everyone in the room was waiting for the moment and
BINGO! I stopped the music and saw a broad smile on Ian as he put his hand
out onto Peters shoulder and Gerry placed his onto Reg's.

I thought Peter was going to feint. The blood left his face and he turned
pure white as he walked Ian to the table and lifted him onto it. Reg was
almost drooling as he lifted his bounty onto the table. Peter pale and
shaking knelt in front of Ian so everybody had a clear view, Reg saw this
and did similar. Slowly Peters trembling hands reached for the waistband of
Ian's briefs. Peter had been undressed by people before, but doing the deed
himself was a rare treat for him. Inch by inch the cotton garments were
lowered slowly showing more and more flesh. As the base of Ian's rigid
boymeat came into view so did Gerry's. Reg was matching Peters speed
exactly. Down the briefs slid, gradually exposing that treasured organ,
until suddenly, Pinggg three inches of the sweetest pieces of boy sprang
clear of the fabric. The applause was instantaneous and the briefs were
completely removed. Peter stood behind Ian and slipping his hands under
Ian's arms he lifted his trophy high in the air showing everybody clearly
what wonderful little jewels Ian possessed, Again Reg Followed suit. The
boys were returned to the table for the kisses licks and sucks to commence.

We allowed a minute or two for the action then I called both Reg and Peter
to come and collect their prize. Reg offered Peter first choice and as I had
guessed he selected Mike. Mike was told that he was Peters property for the
rest of the party and did he object? Not at all, their smiles as they
retired to the corner of the room were a picture, and came as a complete
surprise to Reg. Reg chose little Simon to keep him company for the evening.

"Gentlemen you may unwrap your prizes when ever you wish." I announced.
Peter seemed not to hear this, perhaps that was because he had Mike's tongue
deep in his throat and his hand inside Mike's underpants. Reg was amazed, he
had no idea of this romance. He looked at me and smiled.

"I think you and Alan started a trend when you announced your relationship
to the group. Did you fix the game so those two got each other?" he asked.
My look of shocked innocence confirmed his suspicions, that I knew exactly
what I was doing.

Simon was very small for his age and Reg was a big man. Derek and May were
concerned for their boy. He had only been removed from the `Eye Candy' pool
a few weeks before and apart from being displayed he had very little
experience. Reg knew this and could see the obvious worried look on their
faces. Simon's face showed that he had not a care in the world. Reg also
knew that he needed to regain the respect that he had lost when he tested my
love for Alan so cruelly, it was fresh in too many people's minds to be
ignored. He approached Simon's parents, with Simon holding his hand.

"Derek, Please be assured that If Simon looks in the least bit uncomfortable
or even hints that he is unhappy with anything, it will stop immediately.
There is something I would enjoy, and I would prefer to do it in front of
the audience but I shall be asking Simon if he minds that in a moment"

Reg leant forwards and spoke very quietly into Derek's ear. Derek's
expression changed from being pensive to one of being quite happy about the
situation. Derek passed on the information to May. She to was relieved at
what she heard and nodded to Reg her permission to continue.

Reg then sat Simon on his knee and told him what was being planned. Simon
laughed out loud.

"That's very very rude" he shrieked

"I know it is" smiled Reg. "But will you let me do it to you, and down here
in front of everybody ?"

Well that certainly had everybody's attention.

Simon saw that everybody was looking at him. The term Shy and the name Simon
Foster should never be used in the same sentence. Even put on the same page
is risky. Simon not only consented, he said he wanted to do it there and
then. Reg looked at me and I nodded in agreement, even though I Had no idea
what was going to happen.

Reg stood Simon on the table and we all sat or stood round. Reg took Simon's
shoes and socks off first and as seemed to be traditional he kissed and
licked his feet. As Reg unfastened Simons short trousers and let them fall,
a soft sigh went round the audience. There was no doubting Simon's cuteness,
his mousey coloured hair and hazel eyes were just the tip of that
metaphorical iceberg of beauty. His petite body seemed in some strange way,
to amplify its own attractiveness. As was Reg's way Simons underpants were
removed next freeing a surprisingly large uncut piece for one so small. It
looked to me at least 3 inches perhaps slightly larger. The assembled
company nodded its approval as Reg finally undoing Simons shirt slipped it
back from his shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

Simon was now naked and showing off his erected boyhood to anyone who wanted
to see, which was everyone. He lay on the table face up and Reg took him in
his mouth, expertly stimulating his wonderful little testicles with his hand
as he sucked at the aroused boy. Such expert ministrations to an
inexperienced boy led to the inevitable bucking and writhing of young flesh.
The climax came speedily to Simon as he shook in uncontrolled pleasure.

Reg knew that Simon had more to give, and that Reg was going to have it. He
picked up the still trembling boy and placed him back on the table, this
time laying him on his tummy. First Reg started to stroke his hand over the
sweet bubblebutt, then dropping to his knees he licked and kissed both
cheeks several times. He kissed and licked from cheek to cheek slowly
working his way to the crack between. Reg manoeuvred his way so he was now
kneeling at Simon's feet. He pulled the boy gently back, one leg either side
of him until Simons bottom was positioned directly in front of him. He
placed a hand on each cheek and softly parted them, displaying to the room
the treasure that lay between.

Simons sweet puckered ring was perfection itself. Reg lowered his head to it
and putting out his tongue, licked across it. Simons whole body jerked as if
an electric charge had hit it and he drew breath sharply. His eyes had
opened wide at this new sensation, darting hazel flashes about as he came to
know this new feeling, this new excitement. Reg repeated the lick and as
Simon exhaled, a barely audible moan floated away on the air. Now Reg was
not just passing his tongue over the gland, he was licking it and
occasionally prodding at it, trying to make entry into the tight little
hole. Each time Reg probed it, Simon instinctively contracted his muscles,
denying the headmaster entry, but Reg was a veteran of these games and
started to give two darts of his tongue between licks.

Simon had just flinched again shutting the `door' by contracting his muscles
when the sensations caused him to start to giggle and he relaxed. The
maestro's tongue was in instantly and curling round as Simon squealed with
delight. He started to wriggle and giggle and worm and squirm, he loved it
so. Reg's tongue was now flicking in and out of its new found hole and
tasting the joys of boyhood. Reg placed one hand round Simon's balls and
massaged them whilst letting his tongue play freely about the boys now
completely relaxed gland. Once again experience showed clearly, and it was
seconds only when Simon became charged with the rushing sensations of his
second and more intense climax. Bucking writhing and twisting his body which
suddenly went as rigid as any rock, his breath held, and then limp,
collapsing like a rag doll on the table, a spent force.

This time Simon had no more to give and Reg knew that too. Tenderly he
rolled the child over and picked him up in his arms, kissing the face that
was now tearful from exhaustion. He retired to a chair and held Simon on his
lap, kissing and caressing the boy, nurturing the strength back into him.
Simons show was over and he had disappointed no one.

Then everybody turned and looked at me. The twins having had their time as
the centre of attraction, had each found a lap to sit on and were happily
waiting for instructions. Reg's unscheduled show had provided a magnificent
interim performance, now it was my turn to entertain as guest of honour.


I looked across at Alan, who put some cushions on the table. I called Ian
and Gerry over and told them to undress Alan in front of everybody. They
looked a little concerned but I assured them that he was expecting this to
happen. Alan helped the twins to undress him by kneeling down and lifting
his arms when necessary. Finally stepping out of his underpants, he lay on
the table face up with his erect penis aiming nearly at his nose. The boys
came back to me to see what to do next. Everybody was looking to see what I
was planning. I walked to the table and the twins started to undress me,
carrying my clothes and leaving them in a heap with their own and Alan's. A
pot of Vaseline was produced and the twins applied some to my now rigid
boyhood and Alan's sweet puckered rosebud. Alan was lying on his back as I
started to work on his face licking his eyes and nose then pushing my tongue
into his mouth, feeling every detail of it as one hand massaged his chest
the other running its fingers through his hair.

My tongue left his mouth and after several kisses to his mouth neck and
chest I started to kiss and suck his delightful nipples. My hand had now
wandered down to his steel like erection and was toying with it and those
small balls in that silk like sac. There was total silence in the room when
my mouth reached where my fingers had been playing and I took him into my
mouth and started to suck. As I did so I slipped a finger into his awaiting
boyhole. It took me no time to find that magic button and as I sucked so I
stroked, causing Alan to arch his back and to start to writhe in ecstasy.

The more he wriggled in pleasure the more I stimulated his prostate and
sucked, flashing my tongue over his slit probing it and causing the whole
member to harden more than it had ever been before. I felt him shaking from
the attentions he was getting when suddenly he lost any control he may have
had. His back arched and he threw his head back. His testicles were almost
vibrating with the effort of trying to deliver the nectar that they were yet
to produce. His breathing became shallow and rapid, and his legs shot out
straight and rigid as he arched his back again. Throwing his head from side
to side he was thrusting his cock hard into my mouth. He almost managed to
throw me off him as he bucked and writhed not knowing if it was pleasure or
exquisite pain. As he reached the peak of his climatic spasms he let out a
howl of delight and another immediately followed by a third, then he went
quite limp breathing heavily trying to recover.

His now flaccid penis fell from my mouth and I withdrew my finger and let
him rest a moment. I moved back to his face and kissed him several times.
"Ready?" I asked. He nodded and I moved to stand between his legs. He
brought his knees up and held them in that position. As I touched his ring
with the end of my dick, I felt him twitch, I held it there, pausing, I
closed my eyes and gently pushed. I was amazed at the feeling. His body was
so hot inside, the tunnel of his anal tract felt is if it was on fire to me.
I pushed to go deeper but he had all I had to give. I started to move in a
slow pumping motion as I had felt his father do to me not so very long ago,
and for almost a minute all was well but the masturbation I had just given
Alan had sent me to close to the edge. Very soon I was thrusting in and out
like a demonic rabbit. The heat of his insides left me totally unable to
control myself. I felt my legs starting to tremble so I leant forwards and
supported myself on the table. This enabled Alan to rest his legs on my
shoulders, freeing his hands. They instantly went round to my butt cheeks
pulling me into him as hard as he could. Now it was my turn to arch my back.
It was I whose head threw back and forth. I was the one breathing
erratically. Now it was I who momentarily screamed in that instant of total
fulfilment that is the joy of a climax. The sensation was wonderful, it
turned out that this was to be one of the most important moments in my life.
I had now had sex with a woman and a girl, I had been the receiver of men
and both the giver and receiver with a boy. The female of the species no
longer held any fascination for me at all. I was Gay and I knew it, or as I
had said to Aunty Jean, I was definitely a `Homely Something'.

Alan too had been satisfied by my act of love to him and he started to
shower me with kisses. The murmur of agreement once again rippled round the
room, my performance had been adequate but the crowd wanted more. I saw that
Peter and Mike were in exactly the same position that they had been in
before Reg had started his display with Simon. Peter had Mark on his lap and
they were still tongue wrestling. I picked out two boys names, seemingly at
random David and Oliver. Random my arse, I had seen them give each other a
quick kiss when they thought nobody was watching. They came on to the
`stage' and stood. I told the Gerry to put a chair next to Peter and Mike's.
Peter and Mike took this opportunity to come up for air, wondering what was
about to happen. Looking at the audience I explained.

"Ok another old favourite party game with a twist. Oliver, I would like you
to sit on that chair next to Peter and Mike. David please sit on Oliver's
lap. We or rather you, are going to play Follow my leader. Oliver, what ever
Peter does you must do. David, you are to copy everything Mike does. When
ever anybody sees that either of you has missed an action an item of
clothing will be removed from the offender and the person he is trying to
copy. Gerry will be responsible for taking off Peters and David's clothes
and Ian will have Mike and Oliver to undress. Usual order boys, undress from
the floor up so shirt is last off."

Peter and Mike asked me the sort of thing I wanted them to be doing for the
other two to copy. They were a little irritated that I had disturbed their
session until I said "I want you two to be doing exactly what you have been
doing for nearly the last hour." There were four very happy faces then. So
obvious was their delight that once again Reg realised that there was a
budding relationship. Once again he was surprised, and once again he
realised that I knew about it.

Well the best laid plans of mice and boys, as they say. This game nearly
worked but the problem was that everybody wanted to see the boys naked,
including the boys themselves. The mistakes in following came thick and
fast, so much so that all four boys were standing there naked in less than
two minutes, there was nothing I could do about it so I disqualified them
from the rest of the days events and sent them back to their chairs to
practice. They agreed instantly with the referees decision and even came
over to me and kissed me in gratitude for engineering them being together.
Alan and I were still naked from our display, and I have to admit that I was
starting to tire. I looked longingly at the four boys in the corner each
deep in embrace with his loved one, wishing there were six boys there. How I
wanted Alan and I to be the other two.

For once Reg was ahead of me. He came over. "Just how long have you known
about those four then John, I had no idea of these `goings ons' Nor had I
worked out that at least two of my boys are gay."

I admitted to him that I had only realised what the situation was at the
start of the party, and that it was not too tricky to accommodate their
desires even without them asking. Reg asked me if I had had enough and
wanted to step down as host. He didn't need an answer one look at my face
told him all he needed to know. He said that it was a simple matter to hand
over, just announce the new Master of Ceremonies and he would take over. I
did not need telling twice.

"Ladies and Gentlemen." I called. " I have pleasure in announcing that we
have a new Ring Master for the party. May I present Mr R. Tompkins."

There was some applause but mainly there was an outburst of laughter as I
referred to Reg Tompkins as a Ring Master. I didn't see what was so funny
about it myself but well, that's grown-ups for you.

His first instruction was to Alan to put a chair next to the other two and
to sit down on it. He then told me to sit on Alan's lap and to see if I
could learn anything from the other four. It was music to my ears, and I
lost no time in sucking Alan's tongue into my mouth. I was vaguely aware of
some other games starting and heard something about a race to undress all
scouts and another to undress the rest of the boys. I really didn't care. I
was where I wanted to be, and I was with the one who I wanted to be with,
lastly, he was doing to me what I wanted to have done. My happiness was
completed.

I suppose it was a shame that I didn't carry on as the Master of Ceremonies
as I had still some games yet to be played but they would keep for another
day. Alan whispered to me that he wanted to have me again. I got off his lap
and went to the table. Mike was lying across the table with Oliver next to
him. Peter, his eyes half closed in ecstasy, was sliding his six inches of
un-cut funrod working in and out of Mike's arse. David, wearing a similar
expression was shagging Oliver. There was just enough room on the end of the
table for me to lie across. It was then I noticed that while Peter and
Oliver were being fucked they were each sucking on a boy. The classic
Suckling pig roast. Peter was sucking Daniel and Oliver was sucking William.

Alan started to lubricate me and working me with his fingers to open me up.
I watched as he came up between my legs and gently pushed his boyhood into
me. I let my head fall back in sheer bliss only to see that Andrew had been
placed there ready for me to pleasure him with my mouth. I sucked at the boy
enjoying the flavour while Alan rammed my joy hole to perfection. Then a new
sensation, or at least an additional one. Alan was in my stomach and Andrew
had his dick in my mouth when I felt the warm wet feeling of my dick being
taken into a mouth. Laurence's mouth. Paul started sucking Oliver and Eric
took Peter into his mouth. With all the stimulation we had been getting
none of us was destined to last out long, and very soon there was the
wriggling and writhing of twelve boys at various points of their climax.
Some were moaning others screaming most were crying. The party reached its
crescendo as every one present was now naked and being pleasured in some
way. There were 46 naked bodies with 31 erections between them. Even the two
youngest, the `eye candy' had undressed and joined in.

As the participants of the orgy climaxed and recovered they gathered their
clothes and dressed. By 6 o'clock in the evening we were all dressed, eating
sandwiches and drinking cups of tea. It was all terribly English, the
conversation even drifted on to the weather. I was feeling quite sore round
all my personal regions and was not sorry to see the party start to break
up. By eight pm, the last of the guests had left and Alan and I went to bed.
Although we snuggled our naked bodies together, sex was not even considered.
We were sound asleep when George and Sally looked in on us. We didn't hear
them as they enjoyed each others body before going to sleep themselves.

"WAKEY WAKEY." Dad could be so loud first thing in the morning. Alan and I
stirred as Dad put a cup of tea down for each of us. "That was a lot of
action you two had yesterday, well done. It was all pretty good but you two
were really good." He slid his hand under the bedclothes straight on to my
boy dick which immediately went rigid for him. He pulled the bedclothes off
with his other hand revealing his two naked sons. Two sons, two erections
and two hands, the perfect combination. After a moment or two he stopped,
looked at Alan and spoke.

"Alan, something was done yesterday that I have never seen before. If you
have no objection I would like to try it on John, that is of course if he
doesn't object."

Alan looked at me, I was game for anything as long as it didn't hurt and
Alan knew that, he nodded his agreement to his dad. George took all four
pillows and put them in a heap in the centre of the bed and laid me face
down is if I was humping the pillows, my butt sticking tantalisingly in the
air. He knelt between my legs and both Alan and I thought I was in for a
butt fucking session. We were wrong. Dad gently parted my bubble butt cheeks
and peered closely ant my anal ring, He blew a soft zephyr of breath onto
the sensitive tissue he was looking at. 40,000 volts seemed to shoot through
my body. It was a tremendous sensation. A second time he blew but I was
ready for it that time and although it didn't make me jump so high, the
feeling was no less wonderful.

I felt something warm and damp edge its way into the valley between my
cheeks and I knew it had to be dads tongue. I wriggled slightly at the feel
of it working its way to my pink rosebud, and when he first probed my gland
with it, I felt those 40,000 volts again.
My sphincter slammed shut against the intrusion but undeterred dads tongue
just kept on probing, licking me rim and sending pulses of joy through my
body. I relaxed for a second and his tongue gained entry. Never mind 40,000
volts, the entire national power grid managed to squeeze itself into my
bottom and short out. My legs stiffened and shot back as dads tongue started
to explore my anal crevice. He held my legs apart and resumed his glorious
assault with his tongue.

Alan kneeled at my head and lifting my chin presented his boycock to my
face, sliding it into my willing mouth. Dads hand had crept beneath my loins
and was massaging my hardened member. I was being held too firmly to buck as
the attentions brought me to the edge. Dad was now lying between my legs,
his tongue still curling and twisting round my boy-passage. One of his hands
rubbing my boymeat whilst the other was massaging my small nuts. Alan was
shagging my mouth as I started to shudder violently. Unable to writhe as my
body was screaming out for me to do, all my energy went into the shuddering
spasms now racking my young frame. My blood was rushing round changing my
colour to bright red and small beads of sweat were forming on my face. My
climax, having run its course, let go of my body and I slumped on the bed.

Alan was not yet finished. He asked his Father to move over, and placed his
penis against my saliva covered ring. Only a bit of pressure was applied and
in he slid. He starting to pump just about immediately, and moments later he
to was enjoying the spasms of the climax . Dad, who had not climaxed as yet
was rubbing himself. Alan saw this and presented his cute bubblebutt to his
father. George refused it, instead turning Alan and eased his dick into
Alan's throat. The hot cum turned from love juice to nutrition as it poured
into Alan's waiting digestive system. I was the one to break the silence.

"Where's that cup of tea?"

After a bath which Alan and I took together again, washing each other down
as we had the previous day, and again watched by Mum and Dad, We dressed and
went down stairs. There was still a lot of clearing up to do from yesterdays
party, a job which even with Jeans help took most of the day, by the time
the evening came we all just flopped down into the chairs we normally used,
the only difference was that Alan and I had Jean sitting between us. She had
come to tell George that she had now seen the black Rover motor car on two
further occasions, but each time, it had driven off before she could read
the license plate. She would have mentioned it earlier but she didn't want
to alarm Alan or me. She smiled at us both, fast asleep cuddling up against
her. George had not told Sally about the car and when she heard, she too was
rather concerned. It was agreed that they would inform the police just to
take advice.

Two officers arrived about an hour later. George recognised them both
immediately they came in. They were the two officers who were present at
school the day I was told of the deaths of my parents. They walked into the
living room just as Alan and I were waking from our early evening snooze. A
quick decision was made not to exclude us from the discussion as it was
thought possible that we may be able to add some snippet of information.
Further, were we to notice the car in future we may be able to get the
number.

The situation was explained to the two officers, and details were taken. The
police agreed that the circumstances were indeed suspicious, but we need not
be too alarmed. There could be a perfectly reasonable explanation for it
all. Alan and I were told to be vigilant but not to approach the car if we
saw it. We instantly imagined ourselves as being a pair of `Dick Barton,
Special agents' and ran into the garden shooting at each other with ever
loaded fingers.

>From the Garden we saw the two officers leave and we knew we would be called
back in any second, first to eat then to bed. We were already at the back
door as it opened and Mum looked out. She stood aside for us as we went in,
looking at us she said.

"Promise me something please boys, if you see that car, I want you to keep
well clear of it, understand?" she was looking pensive as she added "There
is probably absolutely nothing to worry about but we don't want to go round
tempting fate now do we?"

Alan and I shook our heads in unison, saying that we wouldn't go near any
cars and we would not want to tempt fate. Finishing our supper, we went to
our bedroom and undressed each other. We took up the sixty nine position and
suckled each other off. We always seemed to get to sleep better after we had
climaxed and giving each other a blow job was the fastest way to achieve
that. We slept well.

I hated Monday mornings, but this particular Monday was to be one I was to
remember for many years to come. After breakfast we both set out for school.
Dad hat left for work at seven as usual, and we left the house at eight
fifteen. It was only a twenty minute walk to school but we liked to get
there a little early and chat to our friends in the playground. Like most
kids we had our usual game we played on the walk to school. Many of the
paving stones on the footpath were cracked and we had routes that made us
avoid the cracked ones. In our game landing on a cracked one would involve a
forfeit when we were back home that afternoon. This morning we noticed that
there were a lot of newly cracked slabs and at one point the possible routes
divided into two possible ones. I took the inside one taking me nearer the
fence whilst Alan took the roadside route. We were looking at the paving
slabs and neither of us saw the approaching black motor car.

The door opened and a hand came out grabbing Alan by the arm. He shrieked in
terror, struggling to stay outside the car. Seeing the mans arm still out of
the car door that was still moving albeit slowly I charged up and threw
myself at it, barging it with what little weight I had. The car door slammed
against the man's arm and he loosened his grip for a moment. Alan struggled
free but the empty hand found me and I was then the one being dragged into
the car. Alan now raced to my aid grabbing the arm and sinking his teeth
into it. Now the man threw me to the ground whilst using his other hand to
grasp Alan's belt and hauled him bodily into the car as it roared off
leaving me lying in the gutter.

There were other people about and as soon as this attack started they were
hurrying over to help but it all happened so quickly. Everybody looked
stunned as the car sped off into the distance. Needless to say there were
people a plenty round me now, all asking if I was alright. Luckily one man
had the presence of mind to see that I had enough people tending me, he ran
to the nearest house and called the police.

Although in my mind the attack had taken ages to take place, it seemed to me
only seconds before I was surrounded by policemen all asking the gathered
crowd what they had witnessed and whether anyone had taken the car's number
plate. Now there were two more uniforms asking me if I was alright as they
helped me to my feet and into an ambulance that had rushed to the scene. I
was taken to hospital hearing only the vehicle's bell in my ears and Alan's
parting screams in my mind.

At the hospital I saw the doctor coming towards me, accompanied by a police
woman. I recognised her as she smiled at me. "John, I need you to think very
carefully. When you went to help your brother, you must have seen things.
Little things that will help us to find him. I want you to think back to
when the car stopped. Tell me everything you can think of."

I liked that police woman and really wanted to tell her everything I could
but I could hardly remember the kidnapping taking place at all. What had
happened so quickly yet lasted hours in my mind was now all a blur. Hard as
I tried I had nothing to give. I shut my eyes and tried to relive the
moments.

"It was a black car, a Rover I think. I didn't see the number. When I first
saw it Alan was already being pulled in to it. The man was wearing a white
shirt and he had a woolly mask on. There were two men but I didn't see the
man who was driving except I think he was wearing a mask too."

It was all I had. The observation about the masks corroborated other witness
statements and three people stated that the number plate had been covered by
something. It was not much to go on.

I heard Mums voice long before I saw her. She rushed into the room calling
"Where is he where is he" She had been told that one of us had been taken by
the kidnappers and the other was in a bed in hospital. She had not been told
which was which though. The look of disappointment and distress when she saw
that it was me who was safe was, although only apparent for a fraction of a
second plain to see, and I saw it. Worse, I understood it and worst of all,
she knew I did. It took me back to the moment not so many weeks before when
I had cried on her shoulder sobbing for my mummy, and I had not meant her.

Oddly enough the hurt in my heart lasted less time than the look itself. I
suppose the fact that such an emotion was only natural helped, plus the fact
that I felt for Alan every bit as deeply as she did put us on the same side
of that impregnable wall that we had to breach.

I was released from hospital within a couple of hours once it was
established that I had no injuries to speak of and we headed home, just in
time to see Dad arrive back from work ashen faced and shaking with fear. The
police had been guarding the door and on our arrival we all went in. Dad
asked me much the same questions as the police had. This time I was able to
add that the man who was grabbing at us has very pale eyes, very pale
indeed. We sat in silence, pondering the imponderable, thinking the
unthinkable and waiting, we were going to do a lot of waiting.

None of us slept that night, we all went to bed and the police constable
assigned to us made himself comfortable down stairs on a `Put-u-up' bed. He
stayed with us in case we heard from the kidnappers. It was assumed that all
this was because George worked in a large branch of an international bank.
We tossed and turned in our beds. I could hear Sally crying, a sound that
brought the tears streaming from my eyes. I was starting to think it was in
some way my fault. Everyone I had ever loved had been taken from me. A
wildly inappropriate logic took over my thinking. I loved Alan, he had been
taken. I loved George and Sally therefore they would also be taken. If I
left maybe they would get Alan back and it would just be me who was taken.
That was the thought playing my mind as I watched dawn break on the Tuesday
morning.

When a ten year old thinks he has to do something and he desperately does
not want to do it gets put off. "I will do it after lunch" "I will do it
tonight" "I will do it tomorrow". The two positive aspects of this were
that I did not run away on Tuesday but the planning for it at least made the
day pass.

It was Wednesday at 08:45 the first contact was made. A motor cycle roared
up to the house, threw a parcel at the door and roared off again. The police
constable ran to get the number but there was no number plate attached. He
picked up the package and touching it as little as possible, he put it on
the table. He phoned the station for a member of CID to be present. And we
sat staring at the parcel, waiting for the investigating officer to arrive.

"Good morning Mr. Richards, Mrs Richards, young man, I am Inspector
Jackson." He was a big man, the Inspector. He looked at the parcel on the
table, asking if anybody had touched it. The constable confirmed that he was
the only one who had touched it picking it up by the string only and placing
it on the table.

"With your permission Mr Richards, I will open this. I would prefer it if
you all touch nothing. Young man, it may be helpful if you stay in the room
but if I tell you to leave, you must go or the constable here will have to
take you out."

I nodded that I understood as the inspector cut the string. He let it fall
as he eased the paper open using his pen as a probe. The bulk of the
contents was easily identified. A neatly folded school pullover, shirt and
tie. Then under those were his trousers, underpants socks and shoes. All
Alan's clothes were there, neatly folded. All that remained in the package
were two envelopes, one addressed to George, the other addressed to me.
Inspector Jackson opened it, read the contents then laying it out open on
the table, he invited me over to read it. It was a simple enough letter but
I could tell it had been dictated. In short the letter said "If everybody
does as they are told I will be back within two weeks. If not they hurt me."
Other bits about loving his new brother and the like but they were all
dictated and to me only the handwriting was his. I stood back and confirmed
that the writing was Alan's. As Jackson opened the other envelope he
stiffened then spoke to the constable.

"Why don't you take young master Richards here and show him my car. It's the
same make as the one we are looking for and it may just jog his memory"

We went outside, but I knew that there was something in the envelope that I
was not to see. Oddly enough the visit to the car did remind me of two
things. Firstly a scratch along the side of the kidnappers car, and second,
that I had put a sizable dent in the door where I hit it. I was telling the
constable this when I heard mum scream. I made for the door but a large hand
gently but at the same time firmly stopped my progress. "No you don't
laddie, you stay here with me."

One look told me that this was not negotiable. I didn't fight it, I just sat
on the car seat and looked at the house, wondering what terrible thing had
happened now. I thought about the suitcase I had put on top of the wardrobe.
That was where it normally lived, but it was packed now, it just needed me
to take it down and creep out into the night and everything would be better.
I would do it tomorrow. A thought crossed my mind but it went before I could
read it.

The constable was a very kind man and managed somehow to engage me in
conversation about anything he could think of, but mainly the car, we talked
at length about the incident, going over the same things time and time
again, sometimes he would notice my adding something, some small detail. He
would question me about it and note it down. What had started as being a
diversion for me, to get me from the house, became fairly heavy
interrogation, I was willing because I knew I was doing something to help.
It was when the doctors car arrived I went to pieces. What ever had made
Sally Richards scream was serious. Very serious.

Five minutes later the inspector came out. He shook Dads hand and came to
the car. I was instructed to go back inside. I didn't need telling twice, I
ran into the house looking for Mum. Dad was sitting there arguing with the
Doctor, saying that He couldn't take anything because there was me to look
after. I asked where Mum was and was told she was upstairs asleep. I sat
down on the couch heavily. I knew what that meant, I had been there. She had
been sedated. What ever had happened to Alan was so bad that Mummy had to be
sedated after she found out.

The doctor gave up trying to get George to take any form of tranquilizer,
George wanted to keep his wits about him and would take nothing to dull
them. Eventually the doctor left and I went over and climbed on Dads lap.
"What was it that made Mum scream out this afternoon ?" I asked.

I realised that he was shaking and when I looked up into his face I saw that
he was crying inconsolably. I hugged him, it was the only thing I could
think of doing. It made him cry even more. I thought about that suitcase,
yes, it would have to be tomorrow.

It was another sleepless night, I could here the anguished moanings of Dads
shallow sleep and I felt so hopeless and helpless. I lay in my bed knowing
that I was not going to sleep, I had plans to make, I nodded off to sleep.

Thursday morning and I awoke with a start. There were voices downstairs, I
heard Mum and Dad but there was another, and I had heard Alan's name
mentioned as well as mine. Some times the voices were raised, sometimes not.
The third person spoke quietly. I couldn't hear. Quietly I got off the bed
and put my head to the floor. It was Aunty Jean, I was struggling to hear
what was being said.

"No George, I will not hear of it, its barbaric what you are suggesting."
That was mum.

"We are not going through with anything at all. All I am trying to do is
make those bastards think we are complying with their sick demands. John
will be none the wiser and it might work. More to the point, I cannot sit
here doing nothing any more. We have been given ten days, just ten days to
meet the deadline. I have to buy more time, or at least try to" I could hear
Dad was trying to reason with mum, then Aunty Jean joined in.

"If we put up all the relevant notices and appear to be complying, it gives
you the opportunity of demanding that you have more proof that Alan is still
alive and unharmed"

Mum burst into tears. "Unharmed? Unharmed? You didn't see the photograph
they sent. They are torturing my baby. The whip marks across his back were
clear and he is tied to a post with a hangman's noose hanging next to him.
My poor baby, I want my baby back."

That made my mind up. I would leave tonight. Anything if it meant a chance
that Alan would come home. I put some more clothes in my case, I had to pack
enough to keep me going but not so much that I couldn't carry the case. I
shivered as a sort of niggle came over me. There was something I needed to
remember. It was something important but I couldn't place it, it was like
trying to remember somebody's name, it was there but wouldn't come out.

I wrote a long letter to mum and dad explaining why I was leaving because I
didn't want to hurt them, or have them think that I had been kidnapped too.
I said it would get Alan back with them and that it was all my fault and
that I was sorry. Well it was a long letter for a ten year old to write. I
put it in my case, and again that worry came over me, that `thing' that was
there. I went down stairs. As I walked into the room everyone went quiet,
then the conversation started again but I could tell that it was on a
different subject.

When I asked if I could go out and play, I was told that I could, but that I
was to stay in the garden. I stood by the fence looking at where Inspector
Jackson had parked his car. It still wouldn't click. I knew that I knew
something and that it was important but I didn't know what it was. I had
been standing there perfectly still, looking at that spot for twenty minutes
when a hand gently rested on my shoulder. It was dads. He had noticed me out
of the window and when he looked a little later he realised I hadn't moved.
He guided me back into the house and sat me on the couch. He sat next to me
and hugged he towards him, asking me what I had been doing standing there so
long.

"I don't know." I said. "I keep thinking of something but I don't know what
it is."

Jean came and sat next to me. "When you were outside yesterday, talking to
the policeman, did you remember any new things?"

I nodded telling her that he kept asking me things and sometimes I
remembered bits. She looked to dad.

"Take John down to the police station and tell them what he has just said.
He needs to be interrogated properly, by someone who is trained to question
children. If he thinks he knows something he almost certainly does. Its
normally shock that causes this problem, but we don't have the time to wait
for `Mother Nature' to bring his memories back. No better still, you get
ready to take him. I will phone them and make sure they have someone there
ready for him."

It was not a long drive to the police station, and we were there in just a
few minutes. Mum had stayed at home in case the phone rang, In the car Aunty
Jean kept telling me that I was to relax, nobody was cross with me and that
the policemen were there to help little boys like me. Any little detail was
important, and that it would be all the little things that when added
together would make one big thing. It would be the big thing that would
bring Alan back.

I was taken to an interview room. Dad went to get a cup of coffee and an
orange drink for me. He propped the door open so I wouldn't feel nervous. He
should not have done that because I heard Inspector Jackson explain the case
to the lady who was to question me.

"It's an evil one this. They have two sons, one blood and one they adopted a
week or so back. The adopted one is quite wealthy in his own right and the
kidnappers demands are simple. All the adopted boys assets are to be
realised and that the cash raised is put in a suitcase. The case is to be
given to the boy and the kidnappers will trade with the Richards, their
blood son for the adopted one and all his money. So in a nutshell one of the
boys will be killed, and Mr and Mrs Richards get to choose which one. They
have ten days to comply starting yesterday. Failure and they get there son
back in parcels, through the post. We need to move very quickly on this"

They walked into the interview room and saw me there, and they both knew
that there was no way I had not overheard them discussing the case. He
groaned under his breath. Somebody had broken two cardinal rules. There was
never to be someone in the interview room unaccompanied and an open door
meant an empty room. There was an embarrassed silence as they sat down,
waiting for my dad to return with his coffee and my orange.

Now I knew. Now I was aware of the unspeakable truth. I also knew that if I
were to run away, they would kill Alan but if I didn't run away, they would
kill me. I knew that Dad and Aunty Jean were pretending to do what the men
had demanded, that was why Mum was so cross with them. I also knew that Dad
had said that he was not going to do what they wanted, he just wanted them
to think he was. It was strange but knowing the truth actually made it
easier for me to understand what was happening. Yes I was frightened and Yes
I was distressed but at least now I knew what I was frightened of. The
unknown had made it even worse in my mind, as difficult as that may seem. I
now had a target and a reason, it cleared my head ready for the
interrogation that was about to follow.

The routine was pretty simple, a few questions a break a few different
questions and another break. Occasionally they would ask one of the earlier
questions again to compare the answers, all the time taking notes. Although
one or two extra details came out there was nothing earth shattering.
Everyone was on the verge of giving up with this session, when there was a
knock at the door and a policeman came in and gave the inspector an envelope
with some photographs in it. He looked at one and even managed a smile. He
handed it to dad.

"The image of your son and any `nasties' have been removed. Now, if we can
find the area to look, we may be able to use this to find the hideout. You
look confused John."

I was staring at the photograph and was, as the inspector had observed,
confused.

"How can a picture of Mr Howard's Cellar help find Alan" I asked.

It was obvious I had not understood what had been meant by "the image of
your son" and "nasties" as I was still so calm.

Jackson's voice was almost trembling as he said "John, I want you to study
this photograph very carefully indeed. You must be absolutely certain about
this. Are you sure that this is Mr Howard's cellar?"

I studied the picture and doing so as carefully as I did I could see where
the shape of Alan had been removed. My resolve strengthened. I studied every
detail of that picture, describing to the officers what I was seeing. I saw
the marks where the rope had been, that made me shiver. I saw the shelf that
I had helped my old dad put up. I looked at the newspaper, still in the
picture, proving the date it was taken, it was resting in an open attaché
case. My dead father's attaché case. The attaché case that I had glimpsed at
in the back of that car. The one from the same set as the case on top of the
wardrobe at home. That was it. That was my hidden thought that would not
come out. Of course it was. My father also had a Rover and his case lived on
the shelf by the rear window. It was always there, so seeing it when Alan
was being snatched, it didn't register, it was just natural.

"Mr Howard lives at 87 Marigold Gardens. That is where this cellar is. It is
next door but one to the house where I lived. He is..."

I was talking to two empty chairs where an inspector and a sergeant had been
sitting.

Aunty Jean picked me up and hugged me, kissed me and hugged me again. She
would have carried on had dad not taken me from her and took over the job of
kissing and hugging. Jean had to bring us both down from this euphoric state
before it got out of hand.

"Hold on you two, I think we had better wait till we hear from the inspector
before we break open the Champaign"

It was a good point. I had directed the police to where Alan had been, but
that was days ago, he could be anywhere. We went to the area where they
served the coffee and orange. We sat and waited. We were getting very good
at waiting. Aunty Jean went and enquired at the desk as to what would be
required of us, she came back rolling her eyes. We got the message, `sit
there and wait'. Just for once we didn't have to wait as long as we had
expected. It was less than an hour when an officer came round the corner and
straight up to us. He looked at Dad and Aunty Jean.

"Ah Mr Richards and Miss Hawker, and you must be John. We have some news for
you Mr Richards. Err Miss Hawker, would you like to take John out and one of
our officers will show you both over one of our police cars. Mr Richards,
please, will you take a seat."

Hearing the officer telling George to sit down was enough for Jean, fearing
the worst, she took my hand and started to take me outside. She was
determined not to cry in front of me, she knew I was petrified as to what
had become of Alan and she was trying to be strong. We went outside but that
was it. She handed me to the waiting constable asking him to show me the car
and excusing her self saying she needed the toilet. She didn't fool me for
as much as one second. I too knew that being told to sit down was for bad
news, and I could see the tears welling up in her eyes. The only reason I
was not breaking down was that I seemed to have become numb. The constable
who I was with was the same one who had chatted to me outside as we looked
at the inspector's car the previous day. He was a nice man who knew when a
boy needed a cuddle and when a boy needed to look at police cars. He knew
this boy needed a cuddle and needed it now. He set me down on a chair and
sat next to me.

"Do you want to see a police car or would you rather just sit here and have
a little chat. Hmm I thought so." He said seeing that there had been no
response from me.

I looked at my shoes and asked them the question as much as I asked `Uncle
Constable'. "Is Alan alive ? Do you know if he is ?"

PC Phillips looked at me while he pulled me towards him and snuggled me to
his chest. "I really don't know John, I have not been told, but I think he
must be. If you look at all the people rushing about here they all look a
bit worried. If Alan had been really harmed or worse, they would all be
looking sad and angry"

One of the things that I liked about PC Phillips was that he knew kids
didn't want to be patronised, not when it was something important. I was in
no doubt that the answer he gave me was, to the best of his ability,
accurate. He didn't tell me I would just have to sit still, be patient and
wait, I knew that and he knew I did.

Dad came round the corner at the same time Aunty Jean came out of the ladies
room. Looking at me and seeing me chatting quietly to the constable, he
cornered Jean. He talked to her quietly, too quietly for me to hear but I
could see from her expression that the news was not good. She took dads car
keys and almost ran out crying. Dad walked over to us.

"Thank you officer, you always seem to manage to bring comfort to John, it's
a rare skill you possess. John, your Aunty Jean has gone to collect Mummy,
and will come back here with her. While we wait I think I had better have a
little chat with you."

Dad was sort of rigid, kind of distant. I didn't understand. `Please, why
wouldn't anybody tell me what was going on?' was the thought going round and
round my head. Dad led me into a small interview room that had been
indicated to him by another sergeant. He sat next to me and put his arm
round my shoulder pulling me to him.

"John, once before I have heard a speech so close to the one I now have to
give you. I have no way to tell you this other than straight out. You have
had to handle so much in your life already, that I am tempted to be
dishonest to you. Were I to do so I think that later, when the truth finally
came out, you would be unable to forgive me, or at best would find it very
hard to do so. Oh John. Soon we will be going to see Alan. He is alive, but
only just. The doctors say he is very, very ill."

Dad was shaking, trying to hang on to self control but it was failing him
fast "They have hurt him very badly John, they've hurt my little boy. All
we have left that we can do is to go and see him and hope and prey.

Dad collapsed as he slumped in his chair a sobbing heap. Now I was the rigid
distant one. Outside, Mother Nature had taken over, I was cool, calm and
even detached. I was cold to the shock. Mankind had thrown at me its
cruellest blows so often, that now I was without feeling. Inside my thoughts
were far from detached. I understood what Dad was saying to me. Alan was not
coming home. Alan was going nowhere. I thought of the case on the wardrobe.
I would go after the funeral. That's right. I would be there to say my final
farewell to Alan, and as soon as it seemed appropriate I would leave this
house where I had succeeded in bringing nothing but death and misery.
Meantime I would carry on and do what was asked of me.

Aunty Jean arrived with Mum. They were both crying. We were all led out but
to a police car, neither Dad nor Jean was fit to drive by then, so we were
taken to the hospital by the authorities. A doctor came to us as soon as we
had identified ourselves to the reception desk, and we were escorted to
Alan's bed. There was a policeman on duty outside his door and another sat
next to his bed, just in case he regained consciousness and said something.

Aunty Jean held me outside as Mum and Dad went in to be with him. A doctor
soon joined them. I sat down, my back to the glass partition separating me
from my loved one. Aunty Jean sat next to me. I looked away, I didn't want
anyone talking to me. Resting my head against the windowed wall I realised
that I could hear the conversation going on inside. The doctor was trying to
explain something to Dad.

"Well physically, although he has been very poorly treated, none of the many
injuries is life threatening. Collectively, they have caused him to go into
deep shock. Pain does that, it's natures way of protecting him. There has
been considerable loss of blood and he has taken no food since the
kidnapping. He has been repeatedly, both physically and sexually assaulted,
the most recent rape being less than four hours ago. I have to tell you that
even if you had complied with the kidnappers every wish, there is no way
that they had planed on returning your son alive. However those are the main
points of his condition physically. Mentally, I have to tell you, his
condition is critical. It seems to be his mind that is willing death to take
him. It is rather as if he has thrown the towel in. He has surrendered to
them. That is what we are trying to combat. There is a dilemma here. Dull
his pain and though he will be comfortable, no outside stimulus will get
through to let his subconscious know his ordeal is at an end and that he is
safe. His surrender will be complete and we will lose him. Fail to dull that
pain and as he is so weak now, the shock of the consistent pain, will cause
us to lose him that way. Some pain but some subconscious activity is what we
have to aim for, but only he can tell us how much further pain he can
endure. That is the situation and the prognosis is far from optimistic."

I had understood enough of what had been said even if not all, to comprehend
the gravity of Alan's condition and the reasons for it. I remembered all the
times so recently where Alan had been my strength when I had caved in. I
remembered how even when I was sedated, I could feel Alan close to me, feel
him as if he were a steel wall surrounding me, protecting me from hurt,
loving me.

I stood up, Jean went to take my hand and cuddle me to her. It was a quick
cuddle as she could feel I was obviously not in cuddling mode. I slipped out
of her arms and went into Alan's room. The rules state quite clearly that
patients are restricted to two visitors at a time. The rules state just as
clearly that patients my lie in their beds or sit on the chair next to it,
they may not sit on the bed. It is engraved in stone that visitors may not
sit on the bed.

The doctor saw me approach the bed and decided that the extra visitor was a
rule waiting to be broken in this case. Alan was lying on his back. He
looked so peaceful there, his breathing, whilst a little shallow, was
regular. His face was bandaged, as was most of the rest of him. The doctor
was only slightly bemused as he, Mum and Dad watched me take off my shoes,
climb on the bed and lie next to Alan. I started whispering in his ear.

It could only have been seconds before the ward sister walked in. She was
about to create about the flagrant breach of a number of hospital rules when
the doctor intervened. He spoke to the sister quietly, such that neither my
parents nor I would be able to hear

"Sister. Please allow the child to say goodbye to his brother with dignity,
in the only way he knows how."

Well Mum and Dad may not have heard, but my hearing was excellent, and hear
it I did. I did not break from my whisperings nor did I look at the doctor.
I knew nobody could hear what I was breathing into Alan's ear, equally I
knew in my heart that Alan could hear and understand every word. I had been
there, and when I was, I had heard Alan.

"Alan, Alan. Listen to me, I love you. You are safe now, you are in
hospital. Every body here loves you but not as much as I do. I am safe too
because the police know who they are looking for and they will catch them.
Mum and Dad are here and they love you so much. They are really worried
about you because the doctor has said you might be going away for ever. You
don't have to go now because we are all safe. I want to get into bed with
you but I don't think that big nurse woman would let me. She looked mad at
us when she saw me on the bed, but the doctor man told her to let us stay as
we are. I know those horrid people hurt you lots, and I want to kiss all
your hurts better. You know how much I love you and I know how much you love
me. It would be silly if you left us now, and you don't do silly things.
When you come back home I am going to cuddle you and kiss you and hug you
till my arms fall off"

I carried on chatting to him in that way for nearly an hour. I never stopped
or looked around at all, so when I finished telling him how much I loved him
for the umpteenth time and looked up, I was somewhat surprised to find we
were on our own. Everybody was sitting outside. I could see them through the
glass partition. I slipped my hand under the bedclothes and felt for my
favourite part of Alan. It was rigid. He had, as I had already known, heard
my message of love to him and his boymeat was telling me he had heard and
understood the fun bits too. I whispered to him that I would see him the
following day, and saying goodbye, I kissed him. As I walked from the room I
was actually smiling.

Several of the group outside Alan's room had turned to look in as I kissed
him, a sight that nearly moved the Police constable to tears he found it so
touching. Mum and Dad went back in to Alan and I sat on the chair next to
Aunty Jean. Snuggling up to her she started to run her fingers through my
hair, and kissed the top of my head. The doctor returned and sat down next
to me on the other side from Aunty Jean. He seemed to be interested to know
what I had been whispering to Alan and I started to blush. I told him that I
had told Alan that he must get better and that I loved him, I added that I
said I would see him tomorrow.

"Do you think Alan heard what you said to him?" The doctor asked.

"Oh yes, I know he did." I replied in an almost `matter of fact' way.

Back at the house we all sat down. The police had driven us back to their
station to our car and Dad drove us from there. Aunty Jean, on Dads request,
poured out some drinks. Everybody seemed to be very slightly more relaxed
after the visit. With all the bandages it had been impossible for us to see
the extent of his injuries, this was in fact a good thing as we would have
been vastly more distressed had we witnessed then what we were to see later.

I sat on Dads lap. Although not too surprised that he made no move to
pleasure himself with me, I was just a tiny bit disappointed. In my mind I
was trying to take his mind off the torment he was suffering, though if I
were to be brutally honest, I needed some relief in that area too. Age
doesn't matter. Once one is sexually active, regular stimulation is a
necessary evil.

Mum recognised the symptoms and called me over to her. As I stood before her
I smiled as she slipped me out of my trousers and underpants. Aunty Jean was
a little despondent, wondering at the appropriateness of such goings on,
while Alan was in hospital so poorly. Mum pointed out that it was my sexual
frustration being addressed, after all it was my partner who I had been
living without for a while now. Satisfied with this reasoning Aunty came
over and started pulling my foreskin back revealing my head slightly deep
purple with the blood coursing through it. I was by this time on mums lap
and I turned on my side to give Aunty Jean easier access. She took me in her
mouth as Mum started licking my face.

I juddered suddenly as I felt the remarkable sensation of gentle breath on
my anal gland. Dad had come over and was behind me, sending a warm flow of
air over across my ring. I sensed his tongue as it started to explore the
valley of the bubble butt. As it reached its goal my sphincter contracted,
but Dad had learned well from Reg Tompkins and the invasion of my boyhole
continued relentlessly. Victory was seconds away as I relaxed and gave Dads
tongue access to my forbidden fruit. Once in he wound his tongue, contorting
it beyond reason as it investigated its new surroundings searching every
inch of its musty, boy flavoured, hard won territory.

With Aunties mouth and tongue massaging my boytoy, Mum kissing and licking
my face and Dad rimming me to perfection, it didn't take very long before
this little boy was writhing in ecstasy, vibrating as I climaxed, shuddering
as I strained to release those juices that I was yet to produce. My orgasm
was no less satisfying for the want of my seed and I was able to retire to
bed much more able to sleep, my needs met. As I got into bed I pulled a
pillow towards me and started whispering to it as if it were Alan, my Alan,
my dearest Alan. The Alan I so loved and longed for. I cuddled the pillow
and fell asleep.

The whole family was woken by the phone the following morning. It wasn't
that the phone call was particularly early, It wasn't. but owing to the
stress we had all been under, we had all been very tired. The call was from
the police informing us that one of the kidnappers had been caught. He had
been armed with a knife and had gone to the hospital. It was obvious that
his intention was to `remove' a valuable police witness. His capture was not
all necessarily all good news. He was the only one the police had a name
for. It was Barry Howard. He was the man who lived next door but one to me
when I was with my old parents. The police still had no clue as to the
identity of the other man, therefore no knowledge of his appearance. He was
still a grave danger to Alan, the only eye witness.

Now the police knew that Alan was a target and that it was probable that
another attack was likely, the guard on Alan's room was doubled. His door
was never to be left unattended. On the doctors orders the subject was not
to be mentioned inside Alan's room as the doctor was now convinced that Alan
was subconsciously aware of certain matters going on around him.

By the time we all arrived to visit Alan, most of the excitement was over.
The nurses were still chattering about it and how it had been such a close
call. Mum and Dad went in Alan's room first. They sat next to his bed and
started talking to him. The doctor had recommended this approach as he was
now sure that Alan had responded to all the chatting I had done with him the
previous day. Alan's condition was quite improved and although still very
poorly and unconscious, his breathing was much deeper and very steady. When
they came out they were in much higher spirits than they had been since the
start of the nightmare.

I went in and although managing to resist the temptation to strip and get
into the bed with him, I once again took my shoes off and lay on the bed
next to him before telling him all about how much I loved him. I had to stop
talking to Alan, or at least keep my chattering to polite things as a male
nurse had walked in wheeling a trolley covered in bottles and medicines and
things. "Just come in to give the patient his vitamin injection young man.
Don't you mind me."

He had a kindly face and a friendly smile. I watched as he filled the
syringe. He lifted the bedclothes and took Alan's bandaged arm. Just as he
presented the needle to Alan, I flew at him, knocking the hypodermic clean
from his hand it smashed on the floor. I bit into his wrist as hard as I
could forcing him to yell in pain as he tried to shake me off. I was not
going to let go come hell or high water. I had seen his eyes, those pale, so
very pale eyes. The last time I had seen eyes like that the rest of the face
was wearing a mask, but not this time.

"JOHN LET GO. LET GO OF THE NURSE. What the hell do you think you are
doing?"

Dad was shouting at me and forcing my mouth open. As I let go of the nurse
he stood back. Everybody was cross with me and shouting at me. I was not
allowed to get a word in as they chastised me.

"John, you just apologise to the nurse before I take you out to the car.
That was outrageous behaviour."

Dad looked round for the nurse to offer his own apologies, only to find the
nurse had gone, he had slipped away in all the fuss.

"He was the other man" I said quietly. "He was going to hurt Alan again. He
was the other man from the car" I sobbed.

By this time the room was full with people. Policemen, Hospital staff and of
course Mum and Dad.

Alan's doctor and a policeman sat me down between them and the doctor
started to ask me questions.

"What makes you think he was the other man?, you didn't see the other man
only his eyes"

"It was him," I cried, "I saw those eyes again and he wasn't giving Alan his
injection properly. I have seen lots of injections and he didn't do it
right. He didn't squirt any up in the air and He didn't wipe Alan's arm
first. He never tapped the injector thing like you always do either"

The doctor, still very calm, examined Alan's arm before asking "Did he get
any of the injection done? Did the needle go into Alan?"

I shook my head showing that he hadn't. Dad now much calmer was still
apologising to the doctor for my interfering with Alan's medication.

"No need to apologise Mr Richards, John has probably just saved Alan's life.
It's the hospital and the police who should be apologising to you. We really
are not geared up for this sort of security. Firstly, I have not put Alan on
any vitamin course, but even if that were not the case John correctly
identified several mistakes the `nurse' had made, two of them potentially
fatal irrespective of what the man was trying to pump into Alan. By not
`squirting' some of the drug in the air and not tapping the syringe, there
was a risk of injecting air bubbles into the bloodstream. Fatal if they
reached the brain."

Dad looked at me and mocked his upper lip trembling "Oh dear Daddy seems to
be wrong again. Do you forgive him?"

By way of reply I sat on his lap and hugged him. A position I remained in
while answering all the policeman's questions, trying to give a description
of the man. It wasn't a great description but it was better than nothing. It
was when I was repeating myself for the third time about his eyes, I heard a
noise and stopped quiet. Everybody looked at me thinking I had remembered
something. I hadn't remembered something, I was sure I had heard something.
I got off Dads lap and walked across to Alan's Bed.

"Hello Alan" I said, "Thanks for coming back"

I was the first to get a kiss in, Mum soon after. All we could see were his
open eyes and a feint smile playing on his lips. The rest of his face was
still covered in bandages. Nobody cared how much we could see, his open eyes
were enough for us. We were all told by the doctor not to tire him and to
take it easy. Now Alan was conscious he was in no danger medically, there
was only the matter of the other kidnapper to worry about.

Even that threat had improved slightly. There were now two people who knew
what he looked like. This would be a problem for him. He would need to take
both us boys out of the equation to be any way near safe, and we were not
going to make that easy for him.

Yesterday, if the mood in our house had been considered a little lighter,
this evening, the mood was euphoric. Mum and Dad told Jean about the events
of the day toasting almost every minute of it with a very fine pure malt
whisky from the Isle of Skye. One that Dad had told me he had been saving
for a very special occasion such as this. He and Sally had opened the bottle
and toasted me the day I was adopted. I was given a sip of this elixir and
coughed violently. It was awful. `Well if that's what he thinks of me' I
thought, and went and sat on Mums lap instead.

The day arrived that we were dreading. After eight days in hospital the
bandages were to be taken off for the last time. Obviously the nursing staff
had seen Alan and the full extent of the damage done to him. We were yet to
see. With trepidation we visited the hospital, each worried about what we
would see, each for different reasons. Mum was worried that her reaction to
what she saw would upset Alan whilst Dad was afraid that Alan would be
ashamed of how he looked and would become introvert. I was just frightened
that Alan would think I didn't love him anymore.

As we went to his room it was plain to see that the glass partition was now
dressed with drawn blinds. The police officer informed us that there were
two nurses and a doctor attending him. We waited patiently and in due course
out they came. While the doctor spoke to Mum and Dad about the treatment I
sneaked in. Alan was sitting up in bed, bandages off.

The scars from being horse whipped across his face looked so angry, as did
those on his neck. He looked into my eyes trying to read me. I looked into
his. I saw fear. The closer I went the greater the fear I saw. As soon as I
was close enough to reach out and hold his damaged face, I did. I held him
in my hands, pulling the panic ridden face to me I kissed that broken nose.
I kissed the welts across his forehead and the scars on his cheeks. I kissed
his lips ignoring the gaps where some of his teeth had been lost and I
kissed each and every one of the raw stripes that decorated his throat. I
kissed each of his wonderful eyes, thanking God that they had been unscathed
by these murderous assaults. I pulled back and saw that the look had changed
from fear to hope.

I whispered so very quietly into his ripped and scarred ear. "Love my Alan,
I love you sooo much." I started kissing him all over again. Mum and Dad
walked in and saw what was happening. They turned and went back out. This
was our time and it was very private.

They gave us ten minutes or so before re-entering the room. There was
nothing to worry about now, the ghosts had been laid and Alan was sitting
with renewed confidence. Mum and Dad had been told that Alan's face was
unlikely to show very much in the way of permanent scars but it would take
time for the marks to heal. Once again patience was the order of the day.

Alan progressed steadily in hospital and it was only twelve days after his
initial admission as an unconscious wreck of a boy, that a bubbly excitable
ball of energy was released back to his home. It was there we saw the rest
of the wounds inflicted. Of the permanent scars the worst was that one of
his butt cheeks had been branded. There were so many other terrible things
done to him that just cataloguing the marks was too distressing. We were to
hear of various atrocities for many days to come. For Alan to bounce back
from all this was a credit to both himself and the medical team that put him
back together, both physically and mentally.

We only had one worry now. Trevor. This was the name of the other man. He
was still at large, a fact that frightened me greatly. We had heard that
Barry Howard was never going to go to trial, He had taken his own life
whilst in the cells. He was not going to be missed by anyone. Trevor was
another days work. He had been the more sadistic of the two and was normally
the one to think up the dreadful things Alan had been made to endure. We
knew this man was still to be a source of fear, something that was confirmed
the following day.

Alan and I were woken sharply on the Saturday morning by a shrill scream.
Alan was not yet as fast on his feet his body still in the healing process,
but concern for his mother kept him close behind me as we ran downstairs to
see what was wrong. Mum had retreated to the corner of the kitchen and was
staring at the kitchen table. There was a letter that she had opened and
from the envelope had fallen two teeth and two finger nails, I looked at
Alan's still bandaged left hand. He pulled back instinctively seeing the
things on the table, remembering the agony involved with their removal.

Dad came in from the garage. He hadn't heard the scream but his eyes
followed our gaze and went to the kitchen table. We all stared at the
horrors on the table mesmerised by the macabre spectre.

"Alan, Go up stairs and get your mothers tweezers." Dad took a cloth from
the draw and covered the items. He picked up and read the letter that had
accompanied them. He hadn't finished reading it as he started to dial the
police stations phone number. He emptied a matchbox and using the tweezers,
placed the offending items in it. He must have read that letter three or
four times by the time Inspector Jackson arrived. Each time he read it he
paled and shook his head.

"Hello Mr Richards, Mrs Richards, Ahh young John and Alan, I seem to have
found the full Richards set. Well now, may I see the letter please?" The
Inspector read the letter several times before asking who else had read it.

Both Mum and Dad had done so and had thought it best if Alan and I were told
the `highlights' leaving out the details, but as yet that had not happened.
Jack Jackson decided to explain the situation to Alan and me in front of Mum
and Dad.

"Ok lads, you are both perfectly safe as long as you are both sensible and
do as you're told. The man is called Trevor Ross. Barry Howard was his
Uncle. We now know they were planning something while John was living next
door but one. The events over the last few months just changed their plans
slightly. Howard's death has left Ross alone in the world. He is still
trying to extort, sorry, force your Mummy and Daddy to give him lots of
money, and he is frightening them by threatening you two. But don't you
worry, we will catch him very soon now. He can't hide for much longer."

Nobody had realised the impact of what had been said. The plan had been
concocted before my parents had been killed. Logical thought processes led
me once again to the same conclusion I had arrived at before. It was my
fault that Alan has suffered these horrendous injuries. Had I not moved in
this wonderful loving home I would not have destroyed their happiness. My
suitcase, already packed, came to the fore of my mind. Alan was recovering
fast. All I needed to do was to ensure that when I left, I would take all
the problems with me. I would leave that night, perhaps that evening, no,
that afternoon.

I went to our room and looked at my already packed suitcase on top of the
wardrobe. I would be leaving Alan, my lover and my new Mum and Dad. I
grabbed the pillow to drown the noise as I broke down and howled into it. I
didn't want to go. I loved everybody here, but it was because of that love
and my certain knowledge that I was the cause of all the pain, that I knew I
had to leave.

Eventually I calmed down enough to go back down stairs. I would have to wait
till later, when Alan was taking his rest time in his old bedroom and Mum
and Dad were having an afternoon siesta. I would have one hour to make good
my get-away. I thought about the letter I had written, wondering about
re-writing it but decided it already said enough.

It was at this point that a plan of mind numbing stupidity came to me,
though the inappropriateness of it did not occur to me. What I needed to do
was to meet up with this Trevor Ross guy. I could then get all my money and
stuff transferred to him and live with him. If he would be prepared to leave
Alan and Mum and Dad alone, I would do anything he asked. I shivered as I
thought about some of Alan's injuries, especially those caused, not to aid
the extortion, but some that were inflicted purely out of sadistic cruelty.
When the two men had played darts, they had made Alan hold the dartboard,
there were many small marks on him where they had missed the board.
Ridiculous as it now seems, I convinced myself that I could make him love
me, and that such treatment would not happen to me.

I set to work on this immediately, plotting the best way of meeting him and
who I would need to speak to, to have my trust funds changed. 'Hmmm Best way
of meeting him. ! ! Well he would probably find me, he must be watching
things happening round here so no worries there. As far as the trust funds
went, we could sort that out later.' All these things were turning in my
mind as I lay on our bed. I dozed off to sleep.

I never felt Dad as he came in the room later that evening and undressed me
putting me to bed. He had seen that I had been crying a lot and thinking it
was in fear of an attack by Ross, he decided not to wake me. Nor did I wake
as Alan, Mum and Dad kissed me goodnight a little later, no the next thing I
was conscious of was Dad bringing me a cup of tea the next morning. I knew I
had failed again in my intention to bring peace to everyone here and did not
feel good about it. I would try again this evening.

Alan had not slept in our bed that night, but was back in his old room. This
was a temporary arrangement decided on by Mum and Dad in order that we would
be well rested, a difficult achievement given the stress the whole household
was under. As if telepathically, we got up and went to the bathroom at the
same time. It seemed reasonable therefore that we bathed together. It turned
out to be a slow process as so much time was spent with our tongues in each
others mouths Alan's in mine because he loved me and mine in his because I
was leaving him. How I managed not to break down and tell him what I was
doing, I will never know but our embraces were as tight as any imaginable
and hold out I did.

We eventually dressed. Alan was not yet fit enough to enjoy anything more
than the kissing and cuddling that I lavished upon him, so sadly I had to
find that to be sufficient for my acts of love to him. He was recovering but
it was going to be a long time, also the medical checkups would involve very
close inspections of the personal parts of his anatomy. I was instructed by
Dad to leave such things well alone for the time being. We both went down
stairs hand in hand as was so often the way with us these days.

There was a letter from the local Education Authority, saying that as the
school summer holidays were soon to be upon us, the teachers would organise
some work for us both to do so we would catch up with the rest of the grade,
but that our attendance at the school would not be required till the end of
the break in September. Alan and I were both cheering about this early start
to our holidays when the phone rang. Dad was close by so he answered it.

"Richmond 473824, Oh hello, what can I do for you? Yes,,,,,, Ahhh ha ,,,,
Are you quite sure about that, there is no mistake? Is the boy alright? Ahhh
ha,,,,, Excellent news, thank you so very much. Yes I will pass it all on
now, they are all here." He placed the receiver back on its rest and
breathed out a long sigh of relief. "They have got the bastard. He is in the
cell at the hospital custody ward, down the road even now as I speak. He was
caught raping a young boy early this morning. The boy will be ok thank God,
but Ross took a good kicking by the boy's father, it was he who caught him.
That's a man I would like to meet and thank personally."

That's when I caved in. All my fears, All my reservations, All my nightmares
were lifted from me, as though an Angel took the weight of the only three
lives I had ever loved, and hung them on a hook labeled `alright now'. All I
could produce were tears, and I was producing plenty of those now, they were
in free flow, I was released, I had never been happier in my life and I was
crying like a new born baby. I was no longer capable of coherent speech, I
was no longer capable of coherent thought. Dad knew a battered soul when he
saw one and he picked me in his arms and took me back to my bed.

Leaving me there, after planting a kiss on my forehead he went, but not far.
Alan too had collapsed under the strange weight of release. He was taken to
his old room to recover from the flood of emotions, too many for a ten year
old to absorb in one hit. I was unaware that Dad had set up `Camp' just
outside our doors, as far as I was concerned, I was alone in my room
wondering if I should still leave. Go whilst the family still had reason to
celebrate. Go before I brought some other terrible situation upon their
shoulders. I decided to go as soon as I could. To leave while they were
ahead of the game, but given the circumstances, I would find it easier to
leave tomorrow, I would wait till then.

It was 10:00 in the morning when I was awoken again, I had been asleep for
nearly twenty four hours. Hell I was getting used to late mornings, but on
this one, yet more news was to be forthcoming. Although I had been treated
to a sleep-in, I was headed for another tiring day. Dad too was looking worn
from emotional fatigue and Mum, Well, Mums aren't allowed to be tired are
they! Mums have to keep on going. They have to bandage grazed knees and kiss
bruises better. `Tired' is not an option for a mum, but this mum was tired.
She was cruising on auto pilot, emotionally drained and physically exhausted
yet she still did all that mums had to do.

It was a credit to Reg Tompkins that with all the concerns that were
involved in running a school, he still found time to think of other people.
Now there were real reasons for a party, Alan was home and safe, the
kidnappers were out of circulation, I was secure and the summer holidays
were about to start. This had to be cause for a party and although it was
we, the Richards, who had so much to celebrate, Reg decided that it would be
his party, at his house and at his expense. As he looked at the school
registry he saw another reason for celebration. In two weeks time Alan would
be having his eleventh birthday. Alan, who so nearly didn't reach that date,
would be the guest of honour. With his wife's blessing he telephoned George
and told him what was planned.

While that telephone conversation was going on I was in our room. I went to
take the suitcase off the wardrobe. Today was the day. As much as I hated
the idea, today I would leave home and restore the good fortune that this
family had enjoyed until I had arrived. The moment I lifted the case I knew
it had been emptied. I opened it. The only item in the case was a letter
addressed to me. I opened the wardrobe and sure enough there were my clothes
that I had packed, the others were all folded neatly in the draw. I opened
the letter. The message was short.


"Dearest John,

When you find this letter, what ever time it is, what ever day it is
and what ever we are doing, come and find us. You are John Richards and we
love you too much to let you go, today or ever, so come and get a giant
cuddle.

Mummy and Daddy."

I had the letter in my hand as I walked into the kitchen where Mum and Dad
sat. They turned to me and saw it. I was going nowhere. Ever.


Well that's the tale of how I didn't run away, how I wasn't kidnapped and
how I didn't finish running a party. I must admit young man, you have been
sitting through these ramblings of an old man very patiently. I see you have
been recording them too. I hope one day somebody reads what you write, it
somehow makes it all worthwhile. I am sorry but as an old man I get so tired
so quickly. I have not yet told you of the holiday we all had or the party
Reg threw for Alan's eleventh birthday. There were so many happy times ahead
for all of us, in fact the rest of my life was happy. Alan and I lived
together until he died two months ago. There was always love in our house,
more than we ever really deserved. Soon I will be joining Mum Dad and Alan,
to be together again for an eternity and even that will seem too short. I
thank you for letting me tell my tale of boys love but I think I shall be
going sooner rather than later so that will have to be the end. No, it's the
beginning. Alan is waiting for me and I must go. Goodbye.


That was "a Boys Tale" written for you by Angela Mynah E-mails welcomed
(even flamers) its being ignored I cant stand.
Angela_Mynah@msn.com <mailto:Angela_Mynah@msn.com>
All rights reserved but if Mr Spielberg is interested he can e-mail me too.
(I help in the rehearsals)

 
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Nifty - Gay - Adult Youth - Boys Tale - Boys Tale 3