(I had a lot to think about by Friday, but you know, every time I sat down to think about it, something else came up. If it wasn’t the schedule, or guests, it was the doctor. Always something to keep my busy. Then that comment I made about Mom that made Mr. Poore be gone all day in his office. You know, I missed him working out with us, too. What did you think he did, anyway? He worked out too. It’s not like he sat around wanking, as Canyon called it, while we exercised! You didn’t get a body like his by just sitting around! But Scott was coming on Saturday, and we had a lot to do Friday, it turned out. I didn’t know that when I woke up early that morning, laying awake and thinking long thoughts.)

I woke up Friday morning early. I could have sworn someone was talking to me, but when I was all the way awake, I knew where I was – strapped into my bed, covered, blindfolded, and unable to hear anything but the music in my headphones. Mick was still singing. Boy, was that song right! I was IN a room painted black!

Then I knew it, when I was staring into the black of my blindfold – I wasn’t scared! It was pitch dark, and I wasn’t scared!

I was also hard, had to pee, but there wasn’t anything I could do about that.

I couldn’t move.

I didn’t know what that bed or blanket was made of, but it was warm and soft. I just wanted to stay in it, really, it was so much nicer than mine at home. I knew Canyon was about four feet away from me, but there was no way to know if he was awake or not. Even if I yelled, he’d never be able to hear me. I wondered what he was listening to in his headphones. He had a lot of records.

I laid there thinking.

I’d only known Canyon about a week, and there I was, living with him for 2 more while Mom was gone. In a week, I’d met a boy who was a nudist, didn’t have any balls, seemed like he might be gay, didn’t think he was even a boy, and had some really weird habits. I mean, he got enemas every day, but now, so did I. He worked out hard, and so did I. He ate like a horse, but wasn’t fat, and that was new for me, too. And he was so affectionate. Maybe since he thought HE wasn’t a boy, then it was OK for him to kiss boys? Then again, I was kissing him back. To say nothing of him jacking me off! The more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t believe it.

But since he said he wasn’t a boy anymore, that didn’t mean I was gay.

But there I was, and wondering how and why.

I was strapped down, naked and helpless, with a plug up my butt. I had a locked collar around my neck, I’d been spanked like I’d never dreamed of, and I’d even got my hair cut and liked it! And I was being ‘whipped’ into shape, too. I wondered if that would go on when Mom got back? Canyon looked good, and I wanted to look like him.

And I also had 2 people telling me they loved me.

I had a little brother (well, 1 inch shorter) and a dad (OK, father figure), food ready for me, and my only chores were doing what I was told: exercise, eat, help clean up, study, and stay clean.

Inside and out, Mr. Poore said.

It was some of the other stuff that bugged me, though. For one, I was pretty sure it was illegal for Mr. Poore to touch me like he did. I mean, him being a man, not my dad, and jacking me off? I never had a dad before – was THAT normal? Did dads do stuff like that? No, that had to be child molesting. I know nudism was legal, but still? I was pretty sure, too, that it wasn’t legal to keep a boy’s butt plugged so he didn’t have accidents, or fill his guts up with hot soapy water every night to keep his insides clean. But wasn’t that providing medical care? And at first, I’d thought Canyon might be a sleepwalker – but that didn’t explain why I got strapped down every night, too. That, and the locked windows and the fence. It was like being in prison.

OK, I know it was all just too weird, and you’re thinking, ‘Why didn’t you run and call the cops, dumbass?’

Well, if candy was suddenly illegal and you found yourself in the Chocolate Factory the next day, would you call the cops?

Besides, I hadn’t seen a phone. Just the cordless that Mr. Poore used that one night.

I decided it that Friday morning when I woke up – I liked being there.

I was still scared, yeah. Some. But not so much as before, like when I’d told Scott to call the cops if I didn’t call him. I still thought about leaving. Mr. Poore even said I could – but that he’d be very disappointed with me.

I didn’t want that.

I felt good every time he told me he was proud of me.

It was crazy, yeah. I know.

But Mom was busy with work and her trips. THAT was why I was there – she was gone again. I figured they had to pay her a lot, but if they did, why was money a big problem? Or did she just SAY it was? She was never proud of me, even when I got that B- on my report card.

My stomach grumbled.

Hell, Mom couldn’t even cook.

But if I left, what was there?

Aunt Mabel and her rat? Scott’s place?

Old lady or asshole?

Or someone who loved me?

That got me to thinking about the temporary custody papers again, the ones me and mom signed. God, there was a lot of them. It was thick as a dictionary! At least if something happened, I knew the doctor could come and fix it without bugging Mom. That’d piss her off.

But she hadn’t even called.

She never did before, on trips, so why did it bug me?

Thinking about those papers got me to thinking about the newspaper, too. I’d had it on me when I’d come over, but now it was gone. So were those clothes, I think. I knew Mr. Poore had trashed my old sneakers in favor of the new sandals. Had he thrown out my old clothes, too? I liked that shirt…

I doubted if Canyon ever had a favorite shirt.

For some reason, I laughed. I couldn’t hear myself laugh, but I could feel it.

I could feel my dick, too, hard – and that plug in my butt. I found out that if I wiggled just right, and pushed in and out with my butt, I could move it a little. I was doing that, and it felt great! THAT got me to worrying if I really was gay or not.

Hell, didn’t gay guys do it like that, like in the porno?

Shit, that HAD to be illegal! You can’t show porn to kids!

You can’t cut their balls off either, just because they ask you to, I thought. But Canyon had. And they did. No wonder he lied to me. He was right – I would have flipped and ran!

But I’d asked Mr. Poore last night about mine.

I’d asked the doctor, too.

We were supposed to have that talk today.

We were going to talk about me getting castrated.

Or not.

I can’t believe I said that!

But I’d said it, too, or something like it: I liked how Canyon looked. I liked how he felt down there, when I touched him, just that little dick and nothing in the way under it. My hair was cut like his now, too, and I really liked that when I thought I’d hate it – when I’d been so scared to have it cut. But now I loved it! Mr. Poore even took my picture. He said he liked it, too. And he took lots of pictures of me.

Other than the cheap school packages, there weren’t any pictures of me. Mom didn’t have a camera.

And besides, no one could bag-tag Canyon! None of that pukey-sick, curled up in a ball, panting pain when you got your nuts smacked.

I hated that. Seemed like when me and my friends went out, I always came home with sore nuts.

Being a eunuch would have that for a big plus, in my book!

Scott always joked about that – like if my dick went missing or I got a rupture, I wouldn’t notice it for a week. Why was it we were the same age, and HE had some hair, a dick twice the size of mine, and could shoot cum?

Hell, he’d shot ME!

“Asshole,” I muttered, “Why I ever thought he was my friend. All he does is put me down.”

But I kinda missed him.

I wondered how he’d react to Canyon. I know swimming naked didn’t bother him. We did that all the time, remember? He was sure proud of his ‘stuff’, I can tell you. And proud of the fact that he was so much bigger than me. I figured seeing Canyon would freak him out. And if he laughed, well, Canyon would probably kick his ass! His ‘arse’. I laughed again.

We’d see what the workout did to him!

If I could make it, and start getting used to it, I knew he would – but he was gonna suffer! Scott was like Mr. Big, you know – he’d never quit if I didn’t, and I sure as hell wasn’t quitting! I gained 2 pounds already, and Mr. Poore said it was all muscle!

I laughed again.

I wondered what Scott would have to say if he saw me naked, and without my balls?

Or my sac?

Or…

And that was another thing – I’d met Canyon, who didn’t have balls. I’d met Jeffie, who was castrated and had the head of his dick cut off. I’d met Kim in the mall, but he’d been dressed up just like Canyon, so I couldn’t tell. I wondered about Dr. Kent’s boy, Mickey. They said he was 17, and on shots. He was going to be a man and go off to college. Was he missing something, too? He had to be, if he was on shots.

But THAT was what I’d said that made Mr. Poore mad – that I was too dumb for college. Well, I WAS. My best grade ever was a B-, remember? I had more D’s than C’s, and more than my share of F’s.

School was just boring. I wasn’t that into it, or figuring stuff out.

But you figured out that Tyrone was Ronnie T., didn’t you?

I thought I did. It made sense. Really, it was WHY I’d come back. I wanted to solve the “Canyon-Mystery.”

But Kim wouldn’t talk about his new playmate, Tyrone. I didn’t have any proof, and I sure as hell didn’t wanna ask! There it was again – the idea that they were kidnappers! The idea Scott had laughed at. “What’cha smokin’?” He’d asked me.

I was thinking about Ronnie when I knew I’d quit moving. I guess I couldn’t wiggle and think at the same time? See how smart I was?

One idea after another. Hell, I couldn’t keep it all straight.

Now I was Canyon’s playmate.

And what was this “Tyrone”, whoever he was, recovering from?

I bet they castrated him, I told myself, and then, There you go again!

I mean, if Mr. Poore was a sicko-criminal who grabbed little boys and cut their bits off, why would he be treating ME so good? He was helping watch our house, he was taking care of me, feeding me, housing me when I had no AC and nowhere else to go, and why? He didn’t owe me or Mom anything.

Did he?

Didn’t he say he went to school with Mom?

In England?

THAT was hard to believe.

Mom said her folks died when she was a Junior in college, and she did call it “University,” like Mr. Poore did. So how’d she afford it, then? Did they die and leave her a pile of money? Then again, he said he’d show me the yearbook.

I was thinking about that missing kid, Ronnie, again, when the music stopped. That had to mean it was 8, time to get up.

Someone was touching me.

The headphones came off.

I could hear breathing.

Then the whiskers on my face.

“Good morning, my boy,” Mr. Poore said. “You were up early, weren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” I sighed, “I’m sorry. I was thinking.”

He was kissing me again, touching me all over. It made me shiver.

“Benny, do you have any idea how much Canyon and I love you?”

“I, uhhh…?”

“You’re a dream come true, Benny,” He told me. “Like I told you, I’ve never seen Canyon this happy. And the way he stood up for you the other day? It’s a marvelous phase in his development!”

“Glad I could help, sir?” I sort of asked, and then was holding me tighter. “I wish we’d found you years sooner,” he sighed. “BUT, we can’t dawdle. Lots to do! SAY, why don’t YOU wake your little brother up this morning?”

“M-me, sir?”

“Yes, you,” he told me.

I went over to Canyon’s bed. He wasn’t moving at all, breathing slow, and I knew he was asleep. Just like Mr. Poore did, I smacked his butt.

He jerked, straining in his straps.

I took his headphones off and touched his ears.

Were those REAL diamonds?

Mr. Poore nodded at me. I don’t know why I did it, but I reached down and touched the spot below his little dick where his balls should have been. He squirmed around and smiled.

“Tha’s nice,” he yawned, trying to stretch.

I kissed him, and he gave it back – and more.

I unstrapped him, but left him blindfolded. He was giggling.

“This isn’t a dark day, is it, Father?” He asked.

Mr. Poore shook his head and grinned. He wanted to play. I didn’t know what a ‘dark day’ was, but I thought it might be a day where Canyon had his blindfold on all day? How weird would that be?

Mr. Poore twirled his finger around in the air. I grabbed Canyon’s shoulders and spun him around a few times. He took a step, and fell right onto his bed, giggling! He got back up, and I spun him again. He held out his hands, I jumped back, and I knew he was lost!

“Benny!” He grinned, “I know that’s YOUR hands! Father put you up to this, didn’t he?”

But he didn’t reach for his blindfold. This must have been a game they played. I reached in and tickled his ribs, then jumped back. He tried to grab at me, and missed. Just like the blind-man’s-bluff game we played in kindergarten. A few more times, since I was really needing to pee, and he caught me.

We kissed again, and then he grabbed my balls!

“Fair’s fair,” he told me.

Then Mr. Poore broke it up. He pulled Canyon’s blindfold off, and we went and got ready for breakfast. Lots to do, after all, no time to play around.

I was disappointed when I found out that Scot wasn’t coming until swim time. Lazy ass probably couldn’t get up out of bed that early on a weekend!

I got a surprise with the workout. When the dishes were done, Mr. Poore went and got the sack of stuff from the sports store. He put weight cuffs on my ankles and wrists, and they were pretty heavy, for me. “5 pounds each,” he told me. “You are now 20 pounds heavier, Benny. Have a good workout!” Then he smacked both our butts and sent us to our private little gym.

By the time 10 came and it was time for ‘school’, I was beat. I was red and panting and sweaty. 20 pounds is lot when you work out hard for a solid hour! He left the weights on me, though. Black padded cuffs. I knew not to touch them, other than to feel at them. They were tight and soft, but they felt sorta…nice. Not like wearing clothes, but it was something touching my skin.

I realized I’d got used to the collar and didn’t even notice it anymore. You will if it gets wet and you stay out in the sun, though, I thought!

I got ½ a pain pill and ½ a muscle pill, ½ a caffeine pill so I wouldn’t pass out, and I was all set.

When we sat down for class, Mr. Poore pulled down a movie screen. I saw the slide projector in the back of the room. ‘Oh, no’, I thought. ‘Not a slideshow?’

He dimmed the lights and the first slide was a naked boy, standing there, arms out, legs spread.

AND IT WAS ME!

When did he take that picture?

I had long hair, no collar, and I swear, he never took that picture!

“Today we’re going to study the male sexual organs, and their functions,” Mr. Poore told us. “This is a picture of a pre-pubescent boy, with intact genitals.

THINK SO? Hell it was ME!

Now, I KNEW that was illegal!

The next slide was a close-up my stuff, limp, then with an hard-on.

I know I was blushing, but it was dark in there…Canyon didn’t say a word.

“A boy who has had his testicles, or nuts, bollocks, stones, etc., removed or made useless is called a ‘eunuch’,” Mr. Poore lectured on, like I wasn’t even there! The next slide was a close-up of my genitals again. But wait – what was that extra skin? That wasn’t ME. “Before, and after, castration with radical circumcision, healed,” Mr. Poore said.

The extra hoodie-skin was gone in the next slide, and so was the sac and balls.

“Note the removal of frenulum,” he said, switching slides. Canyon fidgeted. I knew then it was him in the slides. Another close-up, and that little bit of skin right under the pee-slit was there, then gone. One was me, one was Canyon. I had a frenulum – he didn’t.

I also had balls.

But our dicks looked the same in his after shot, before it started getting smaller.

I was hard again, so hard it hurt. I wanted to touch it, I wanted to get off, even if I couldn’t shoot cum. But I kept my hands on the desk. I knew better.

Mr. Poore was talking about cleanliness, how he disagreed with circumcising babies, and that boys should be old enough to choose it for themselves and appreciate the pain and healing time. I clenched my legs. Cutting off that much of your dick looked like it would hurt, and be sore for weeks!

“With tens of thousands of nerve endings gone,” Mr. Poore was saying, “Sensation is reduced very much. Some men and boys claim that they can then last longer during the sex act, since ejaculation is delayed.”

WHEN DID HE TAKE MY PICTURES?!

“Or during masturbation,” Mr. Poore was still going, and the next slide was me trying to jack off! This was just too damn weird! I didn’t REMEMBER it! He could go to jail for that – it was kid-porn! “Note the reddening, since the boy is not using a lotion, and he is circumcised, but not fully.” The next slide was shinier, there was lotion on my dick I saw, but it was Canyon’s hand on my dick!

“Hmmm,” Canyon said.

I almost fell out of my chair with the next one!

It was me, with that plastic trap on my dick!

“Note to self, if a boy is overindulgent, Whacky-Tacky Super glue will dissolve with prolonged urine contact!”

He and Canyon laughed.

“It’s OK, Benny!” Canyon assured me, “I just didn’t want you to hurt yourself! I tried to tell Father it wouldn’t work.”

“That he did,” Mr. Poore agreed. “You don’t remember any of this, do you, Benny?”

“N-no sir?”

Hell NO I didn’t! What the fuck was he doing taking pictures of me naked?

Geeez, I looked soft, like an 8 year old. Did I really look like that?

The next few slides showed boys with larger stuff – hard-ons, lower balls, bigger dicks, bigger balls. It was like watching puberty in that speed-up-film or something. He had a whole tray of slides! Who the HELL was it?!

The slides looked kinda old, though. Blue-ish tint, and some spots.

“Those are of me,” Mr. Poore put in, “when I was growing up. My balls never were that large, but they worked,” He smiled, and I felt him clap me on the back; Canyon, too.

We got to see slides of him as a boy, too. All ages, like a history. He was a good looking boy, strong like Canyon, and he just got bigger and more muscled as the slides went by. His dad must have taken thousands of photos of him. I was jealous.

“Boys with functioning testicles, however, are prone to masturbate, or wank, jack off, etc.,” he said, and the next slide got MY attention: It was Mr. Poore-the-boy, he’d just started to grow some pubic hair, not much, but there was something gold and shiny over his dick and balls! “To prevent this, sometimes a chastity device is used. This device covers the genitals fully, making it impossible to become erect, or even for the boy to touch them. This model is held in place by a Prince Albert piercing.”

The next slide showed a close up of a not-so-big dick, his, with a gold ring in it. It went in the hole, and out the bottom behind the head. It was closed, then open with a hinge in the next one, to show how it worked. The next slide, and the clear chastity thing was on him. Unlike the one I’d had for a night, his hid ALL of his stuff.

And the next slide showed a tiny little padlock being put in the piercing and closed!

“The only way to escape this device would be to rip it out, thus damaging the penis badly,” he explained.

“Wow,” Canyon breathed.

“The ring, or PA,” he called it, “Is also useful for added sensation in the circumcised male.” I could see that as a boy, Mr. Poore didn’t have that frenum-thingy either, just like Canyon.

I thought about Jeffie and how he had no dick-head. ‘Like father, like son?’ But then again, Canyon was castrated. And he wasn’t pierced.

I was squirming, and I was so hard it hurt. That plug was making me crazy, and ALL I wanted to do was jack off!

“This can lead to frustration in the intact male, who, unable find sexual relief, may channel his energy into something else. Perhaps physical activity?”

There was a slide of Mr. Poore, about 13, I thought, working out. He looked better than Canyon, even.

“The castrated boy, or eunuch, however, faces challenges that the intact boy does not,” Mr. Poore kept talking. “Deprived of testosterone, the main male hormone, he doesn’t develop muscles as much, or as fast, as the intact boy. The eunuch has to work out harder, be more careful of his diet and workout, or he may get fat and soft.”

The next slide was quite old, black and white, of some fat Asian kid. He even had small boobs, sorta like Margaret’s. “This is a slide shot of an old print, from the collections of Chinese eunuchs’ images stored in museum,” Mr. Poore told us. “Very hard to come by.”

I looked closer.

“He’s got no dick!” I held up my hand.

“The Chinese believed in removing everything, Benjamin,” he warned me. “But a natural reaction from you. A very, very tiny error.”

I gulped.

I kept my hand up. He tapped my shoulder with the pointer stick he had.

“But…but….? He can’t NEVER fuck anyone, or jack off?”

“’Cannot ever’,” he corrected me, “Correct you are! Primarily, in antiquity, the penis was removed to prevent the male from being able to have sex with women, which you already know all about. In slaves, this increased their value tremendously, as they were ‘safe’ – they had no penis, so therefore, they could not penetrate anyone. Castration alone did not always insure impotency. You know Canyon can still get hard, sometimes, but not often?”

Canyon sighed again.

“And, the castrated boy may still WANT to masturbate, or copulate, but given his hit-and-miss impotency, and the small size of his penis, he cannot. Removing the penis as well insures that he WILL not. Also, his development into a man is prevented by removing the testicles. Castrated slave boys were always worth more than intact boys. Also, some cultures considered the eunuch to be neither male nor female. A 3rd sex.”

“Whoa!” I said, and I swear, I was about to get off right there just watching it!

“So, now who can tell me the side effects of having his testicles removed?” Mr. Poore quizzed us. “Canyon?”

“Can’t get hard, or not often.”

“Good,” Mr. Poore said. “Benny?”

“You can’t have babies.”

Then Canyon – “No whiskers.”

I started thinking about men and how they looked. “Less muscles.”

“No body hair.”

“Weight gain and boobs?”

“’Breasts’,” Mr. Poore corrected me. “And sometimes, weaker bones in men and boys castrated after puberty. Also, if castrated before puberty, the boy’s voice stays high.”

“Like the Italians did?” I held up my hand.

“Very good, did you read that somewhere?” He asked.

“Yes, sir. They trained them as singers.”

“Very good! I’m impressed that you knew that, Benny! Today, however, castration is performed only in case of accident, or by an infection such as the mumps, which ruins the testicles. Sometimes, in the case of cancer, they are removed. Rare is the boy or man who simply WANTS to be castrated because he likes the look or feel.”

I could feel him looking at me.

“It is NOT something to be taken lightly. Once castrated, one will never have testicles again. Boys who have not experienced partner-sex, or even wet orgasms, are best suited to this. Some men castrated after puberty find it difficult, if not impossible, to attain orgasm, or ‘cum’. Some become impotent, without shots to correct it, while some do not. And of course, the castrated male will never make a baby of his own.”

So there it was. I knew everything that Canyon was facing. No wonder Mr. Poore was so in control of him! He didn’t want him to get fat, like that Chinese ‘smooth’ kid in the photo. I had to say, that poor kid looked miserable.

“At least today, the fatigue and impotency can be aided with hormone shots,” Mr. Poore told us. “However, even 50 or so years ago, once a male was castrated, he was a eunuch – forever – come what may. Boys who were castrated could never become men. Never. The medicine did not exist. There is also the risk of his arms and legs bones growing too long,” he changed slides, “Which dictates that some boys be put on hormones whether they want it or not.”

The slide was very old, and it was a nutless white kid with hands down to his knees, and way long legs! He looked like a stick!

“That’s why I took a year to decide, Benny,” Canyon told me. “Hey, tha’s me!” He laughed, when the slide changed.

I just sat and stared at the slide of Canyon.

It was the last one on the reel.

Trim, smiling little Canyon, with just his tiny little dick and nothing under it…

I sat back in my seat, and I was so close to getting off I wanted to scream!

God, he looked nice! I wanted so much to be built like that, not so ‘soft’ as I was. Heck, I wanted to touch him again, like I had that morning.

“The eunuch who is impotent, but still desires pleasure,” Mr. Poore then started up again, “May find it in other ways. Benny?”

“Sir?”

“That plug in you is starting to feel pretty good, isn’t it? Since you are not allowed to touch your hard little penis here in class, and you want to so badly?”

“Y-yes, sir!”

He changed slide trays.

The first one was a picture of a fake dick – a dildo. I knew what that was, ‘cause Scott’s mom had one! He found it looking for her stash of cash one day! But weren’t those for women?

“Oh!” Canyon said.

Mr. Poore tapped him with the stick. Then he laughed.

The next slide was of the inside of a guy, showing how he was built inside. I saw the thing marked “prostate” in the drawing.

“Some eunuchs make use of anal sex,” Mr. Poore said, pointing to the prostate, “Or even boys and men who are not cut, but in chastity. Rubbing the prostate can produce an intense orgasm for some, whether with a dildo, finger, or other object. If puberty has begun, the this rubbing will cause the discharge of stored semen. The white stuff,” he added.

I remembered Dr. Kent’s fingers all too much! Hell, I’d never felt like THAT, and I was wishing my plug was doing a better job on my prostate just then!

The next slides showed a boy I didn’t know having a dildo put in him. I remembered the porno, and wondered why someone just didn’t fuck him? He was castrated, and in each slide, his little dick never hard. But then again, fucking him was certainly illegal!

But is it if another boy did it, and they wanted to? I wondered.

“We’ll have a movie later,” Mr. Poore told us, “So you can see the full effect of a boy castrated right at puberty getting off with an anal orgasm.”

“Could just demonstrate,” Canyon sighed.

Huh? What was he talking about? Demonstrate?!

(OK, OK, it went right by me! Over my head, zing!)

“CANYON!” Mr. Poore snapped.

“Sorry, sir.” He sighed.

“Minor error, talking in class. You know better, and to raise your hand!”

I figured we both had a spanking coming then.

But I didn’t dread it so much. What would it feel like, if he swatted me with that plug in me? And we were going to watch a movie? A movie of a eunuch-boy having a dildo used on him?

Or a movie of a eunuch-boy like Canyon getting his butt fucked – by a man?

Hell, that HAD to illegal!

It was like rape, or child molesting, or…or…

And I wanted to see it. But maybe if it was an ‘intact’ boy, that would be OK?

I didn’t know why, but I HAD to see it. I knew Canyon could use his plug to help him jack of, IF he could GET hard – and it took a lot to get him hard, I knew. He got hard when he watched the 2 guys fucking on that porno.

If that made him gay, though, didn’t it make me gay too?

Or if you were castrated, like Canyon, was he right when he said you weren’t a boy anymore? Was he that 3rd sex person, then? So if a eunuch did it with a guy, neither one was gay?

I was so confused.

Canyon’s watched beeped.

2 hours were GONE fast, and it was time to eat lunch.

The lights came on, and I saw that Mr. Poore was hard, too. There was a big drip of something hanging off his PA ring.

“Punishment, both of you – up against the board, hands on it, lean, spread your legs.” I followed Canyon’s lead. “Talking in class,” Mr. Poore told us, and you could hear the “WHISHHH!” of the pointer stick as he swung it.

‘SWITCH!’ It sounded like, and Canyon howled as it left a red mark across his butt. I was next. I screamed. It was far worse than the big paddle!

The Mr. Poore hugged us and told he loved us.

I guess we’d just had that long talk about castration, huh?

After we ate, my head was still spinning. I wanted to get off so bad, I could cry! But Mr. Poore had other plans. We were going to go over and check out my house again. Bob was coming with the AC pipe, which he had rushed in early. I had no idea why, but he did. Oh well, Mom could bitch about the fee. I’d just get yelled at, since she thought I’d broke it with the mower.

“Mr. Poore,” I had to ask, holding up my hand as we headed for the gate to my yard. I still had my weights on.

“Yes, son?”

“I…I wanna know, sir, how much did this pipe cost? I have a piggy bank?”

“Not your worry, Benny,” he told me, “I paid for it. I broke it, I bought it.”

“Sir?”

Gosh, was he ADMITTING it? Did he know that I knew he set me up, and now he’d make it right?

“How else was I to insure that that awful Auntie of yours and her psychotic dog didn’t come to keep my boy for 2 weeks?” Mr. Poore asked.

“Genius, Father!” Canyon complimented him.

“Yes, son, I know,” He said back, and they were playing again.

“Father, can Benny teach me how to mow grass, then?”

“You don’t have steel toed boots, son,” He told him.

“Then get me some!” Canyon whined.

“You’ll regret that after the first time,” I told Canyon, “Trust me. You can borrow mine! I think we’re the same shoe size.”

“Oh, I do trust you, Benny, but it looks like bloody good, hard exercise, out in this heat, what?” Canyon smiled.

“Do you LIKE to suffer?” I asked him, and they both laughed like I’d told a huge joke! I didn’t get it. I hated mowing, but the grass was pretty high again…

Didn’t he not like it, with the one pass he’d made, though? Or did he want to use the gas mower? That manual old thing DID suck. It sucked big wind.

“Hang on! The Smiths will see us, sir!” I spoke up.

Mr. Poore unlocked the gate. “No, they go grocery shopping at 1230 on Friday,” Mr. Poore told me. “Your mother told me.”

“Oh, right,” I remembered, and they did. Every week, set your watch by it.

Good thing our back yard had a thick hedge of lilacs, so the people on the next street over couldn’t see us!

I gasped when someone yelled at us.

“Martin!” A man in work clothes waved at us, raising up from by the AC unit of my house.

“Bob!” Mr. Poore shook his hand. “So good of you to come!”

Then I saw the tall, reedy blond boy that had passed us in the mall. He was tinkering with the valve on the copper line. He had that same haircut like ours, a bit longer, and a collar, too. He was only wearing short pants and sandals. I sighed in relief. I thought some random repair guy had just seen us naked!

“This must be Benny!” Bob greeted me. I shook his hand and imitated Canyon’s greeting. “YOU need to be more careful, boy!” He warned me, shaking a wrench at me.

“Yes sir!” I nodded at him.

“Impressive,” Bob told Mr. Poore, “Benny, this is my nephew, Bobbie.”

The blond boy stood up and we shook hands. He fingers were really long, and he was thin. “Hiya,” he smiled at me, and his voice squeaked.

“Bobbie’s not had to get the shots, boys,” Mr. Poore told us. “He was getting too tall and lanky, and that’s dangerous for him, but he’s stabilized now. He just needs to work out harder.”

Bobbie nodded, and his ‘uncle’ clapped him on the shoulder. “Hate to see ‘em grow up, but you know?”

“They all do, but there’s always grandsons,” Mr. Poore said.

‘Grandsons, not ‘grandchildren’,’ I thought.

“We’re just going to check things out, get a few of Benny’s things,” Mr. Poore then said, and that was news to me.

“I’ll have her done shortly,” Bob nodded. “Then I got a delivery to Simonson’s. That man keeps me in a job!”

“Remind Scottie to come over,” Mr. Poore said. “We’ll be expecting him at 2 for swimming, snacks, TV, and dinner later.”

“Fun fun!” Bob laughed.

“Oh, yes,” Mr. Poore smiled, and I got a chill.

We went on in while Bob and Bobbie went back to work. ‘Bob and Bobbie’; it was funny!

“Sir, what are we looking for?” I asked.

“Making sure the trash it emptied, in case your mother forgot,” Mr. Poore sneered, sniffing, “Yes, garbage! In a hot house!”

“Ewwww!” Canyon made a face.

So we emptied the fridge, what there was. I took out the stinky trash. Mr. Poore left all the ‘frozen shit’ he called it. He took the canned stuff. Then I saw he was taking all the school picture of me off the walls.

“I want to copy these, I’m sure Lois won’t mind,” he said.

I smiled. He wanted pictures, of ME, when I was younger? I thought I was going to cry. I didn’t know why.

“Benny, go to your room and clean out all the stuff that you want to keep with you,” He told me. “EVERYTHING. Piggy bank, favorite toys, leave the clothes,” he added.

Canyon went with me to do that, and Mr. Poore went in Mom’s room. I had no idea what he was looking for.

We were just finishing with packing my old toybox when I heard him yell.

Now, I’ve heard cursing, but hey – Mr. Poore made up new words that I don’t dare use to this day!

“BENJAMIN!” He yelled at me, and we froze. “Get in here!”

I went into Mom’s room. Hell I never went in there.

He was in her bathroom, and he had a box in his hands, from the medicine chest. He was holding up a needle, like that diabetic kid Kenny at school had to use. (He’d did it for show and tell once. Margaret fainted.)

“My God, Benny, are you diabetic?” He sounded panicked. “Do you get shots every day? Does Lois?”

“You mean like Kenny, at school? No, sir?” I answered him, scared out of my mind. “Why?”

“No, or course not. Wonderful, intelligent boy!” He praised me. Then he grabbed me and bent me over.

“S-sir?”

“Hold still, yes there it is!” He said. “Benny, did you have a bug bite on your butt the other day?”

“Yes, sir! It’s been sore, like I sat on a bee!”

“That explains it,” he sighed, and then he held me and kissed me again. He just kept doing it, and he had tears on his face! “Stupid, self-righteous BITCH!” He growled. “CANYON!”

“Sir?”

“Go home NOW, and call Dr. Kent! Tell him to get that blood work to me NOW! Tell him it’s about Benny, and he needs to look for_____!”

(He said some word I’d never heard before, but I knew it wasn’t ‘insulin’, like Kenny had to take, or he’d die. He had it bad.)

“Sir!” Canyon gasped, and he was gone. Boy, could he move!

“Sir, what’s wrong? Am I …sick?” I was starting to cry.

“No, no, son,” he assured me, holding me tight and then looking at my dick and balls very carefully. “Almost 13, no wonder! You poor boy! She had no right. This wasn’t your choice! It HAS to be the boy’s choice!”

“What, sir?”

Mr. Poore sighed and sat on the bed. He took me on his lap.

“Benny, this needle is for a very expensive drug. There’s a whole box of needles, that’s why I thought you were diabetic, and taking insulin.”

“No, but we all know about Kenny?” I repeated. I didn’t know what to say. Did he think Mom was giving me drugs? Was Mom sick, and I didn’t know it?

“Yes? Kenny…poor child,” Mr. Poore shrugged, “But you’re not. Dr. Kent will know, yes! Anyway, Benny, I believe that your mother apparently has access to this drug through work. It’s used to prevent boys from starting puberty.”

WHAT THE HELL?

“She…she was trying to hurt me?” I gasped. I couldn’t believe it – she was giving me shots?

“No, Benny,” Mr. Poore sighed, “But judging from the look of this box, she’s been shooting your little butt full of it while you were asleep. She might have drugged you, too, so you wouldn’t wake up and know. That’s why you’re so small and haven’t hit any sign of puberty, like your friends, Benny.”

I just sat there. Mom drugging me? I mean, it was weird at Canyon’s house, but at least Mr. Poore let us know what to expect! I remembered her reaction when I’d told her that Canyon was castrated. I told Mr. Poore about it, and her anti-man-rants. You’d think mom would have at least been surprised to find out my new friend had had his nuts cut off?

“Bitch,” he muttered again. “Let’s get your stuff, and the valuables. Everyone knows she’s out of town, and we don’t a robbery. Bob will have the AC fixed, so let’s shut all the windows in case of rain again.”

We did that. Boy, was Mr. Poore mad!

I wasn’t too happy either. What would you do if YOUR mom was giving you shots of some drug to prevent puberty?

(I wondered if they were giving Michael Jackson that stuff, too?)

When we had the pictures and my stuff out (not the clothes), Mr. Poore ordered us to go lay out in the sun and do a Spanish lesson. He went back to the house, and he was gone until almost time for Scott to come over. He kept bringing boxes and sacks of stuff over, like he was moving me out of my house!

But if Mom was drugging me, I sure as hell didn’t wanna go back!

He went back and talked to Bob some, and then Bob went back to work. I thought our AC was electric, but Bob was tinkering with the gas meter?

It was not quite 2 when we got a drink of ice-lemon water. Mr. Poore was sitting at the kitchen table, and he had Mom’s jewelry box. I thought that was weird, but then again, he didn’t want it stolen. He looked strange.

“She kept them,” he sighed. “All these years.”

In his hand was a pair of diamond earrings, just like Canyon’s.

“I bought these for Lois when I proposed to her, our Sophomore year in University,” Mr. Poore sighed, and he had tears in his eyes again. “Of course, she turned me down flat. My father was angry too, but for other reasons.”

I saw the yearbook sitting on the table, too. He showed me their pictures, but it was when they graduated: Martin C. Poore, and Lois B. Pence. Mr. Poore had wanted to marry MY mom? And she turned him down? God, was she stupid, or what?

“Benny, I want you to keep these,” Mr. Poore told me, and he put them in my hand. Canyon nodded.

“But…but she never wears these?” I said. “I’ve never even seen them, and…and I can’t wear them, sir?” I looked at Canyon.

Canyon was touching my ear. “Father, let’s get a needle and some ice,” he said, smiling at me and nodding. “Benny SHOULD have those, if she didn’t like them.”

I knew what Canyon wanted to do. He wanted to pierce my ears, like his.

And I let him.

I sat there at the table, while they froze my ears with ice. Then Mr. Poore carefully pierced each one and put the earrings in. It was like 2 bee stings, but I held still.

I got so hard again…

Canyon was touching it, too, his moist little hand slowly jacking me off.

“Handsome,” Mr. Poore sighed, and he kissed me again. “My beautiful boys,” he said, “So proud…” he mumbled, as he went down the hall to his office.

I got off pretty fast.

I had just enough time to get a drink and stop panting when the doorbell rang.

Scott was there!

“I’ll get it,” I told Canyon, my earlobes still throbbing some.

When I opened the door, Scott just stared at me.

“Uhhhh, we not using swimsuits?” He gasped.

“Nope,” I smiled at him.

“Cool! Hey, you lost weight?” He looked again. “Did your dick grow?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. Mr. Poore said I gained 2 pounds!”

He looked me over. “Cool necklace, and …” He paused. “What the hell? You got your ears pierced? Not just one?” He stepped in. “You ain’t gay, are you?”

“Why, Scottie, you lookin’ for a piece’o’ass?”

He just stared at me with his mouth open. I mean, I was glad to see him and all, but I wasn’t in the mood for his shit.

He laughed.

“C’mon, man, it’s hot out! And I wanna meet your new friend. Where is he?”

“Hello, Scottie,” Canyon greeted him, as we walked into the kitchen. Then Canyon stood up.

“Wow, Ben wasn’t lyin’! You are built! How’d you get muscles like that?” Scott gasped.

“I work out, with Benny now,” Canyon shook his hand. “You’re welcome to come and join us, if you think you can take it?”

Scott looked Canyon over, felt his biceps, looked at me, looked at Canyon, then shook his head. “You two look like twins,” he said. “Earrings and all and…” He stopped. He’d just looked down.

I saw that he had a hard-on. One double the size of mine.

“Wh-what happened to your balls?” Scott gasped.

“Oh, I had them taken out when I was 9,” Canyon sort of bobbled his head and shrugged.

Scott looked at me. I mouthed the word “cancer.” He got it.

“I…I’m sorry, dude,” Scott shook his head.

“I’m not,” Canyon just grinned. “Come on, then. We’ve only got two hours until afternoon nap.”

“Nap?” Scott snorted. “You take n-…oh, yeah, right! I get it!”

He was buying it. I just hoped he wasn’t rude enough to say it to Canyon and blow it, because Canyon would probably tell him that he’d voluntarily been castrated!

We had fun in the pool until 4, and those weights really wore me down fast. I’d had them on all day, remember. Scott looked like he was having a good time, too, but he kept sneaking peeks at Canyon’s crotch.

“Try this,” Canyon told him, after he’d made our shakes. Mr. Poore was still holed up in his office.

“Pretty good,” Scott said. He drank it all. Then his eyes started to droop. Canyon half dragged him over to his mat.

“He does have a rather large cock for his age,” Canyon said. Scott just groaned.

“Tired?” He slurred.

“Then have a look at this,” Canyon told him. “Benny, shut your eyes,” he told me in a flat voice. I did that.

I could hear something clicking, really fast, and see flashes of light through my eyelids. What was Canyon doing? But I didn’t care, all of a sudden. If Canyon was doing it, it must be OK.

“Take a nap, you’re tired,” Canyon told Scott. “Just watch the light, go to sleep, and you’ll be really famished when you wake up. Would you like to spend the night, Scott? Perhaps have a wank with us?”

“A whut?” Scott asked.

“Jack off, old boy? I’d love to see what that cock of yours can do.”

“Sure!” Scott said happily. Then he rolled over on the mat, I guess, and the clicking stopped. He was asleep when Canyon told me to look.

“Benny, take his clothes to Father,” Canyon told me.

“Uh, sure, Canyon, but…why? What was that noise I heard? Why’d I have to not look?” I had to ask.

“It’s complex, Benny,” Canyon told me, “Just do as you’re told, please?”

“What did you do to him?” I asked. By then, not much could surprise me.

“Just a small tranquilizer,” Canyon said. “Half of one. Knocked him out like it does you! Scottie’s just going to spend the night is all, so we should be considerate. Besides, we need a nap and he wouldn’t have.”

I was on the way out when I heard Canyon on the phone.

Where had HE found it?

“Hello? Yes, this is Ben,” Canyon imitated my voice almost perfectly! “Can Scott stay the night, please? Oh, he’s talking to Mr. Poore about plasterboard for the new rec room. Yes, I’ll tell him. Thanks, Mr. Simonson! Oh, no, we’ll drop him off tomorrow, if that’s OK? What? Sunday? Well, where’s Evan? I’m sure Mr. Poore won’t mind at all, no, if Scott didn’t wanna go. See you Sunday night, then, and thanks! I missed him! Bye!”

I took the clothes and left them at the door to the office.

Canyon and me shared a mat, and went to sleep snuggled up together.

“The Simonsons are off to see Auntie,” Canyon told me, “Scottie didn’t want to go, and Evan’s sleeping over at his buddy’s house.”

So Scott (Scottie?) was going to spend the rest of the weekend?

Without his clothes?

Something flashed, and I figured Mr. Poore must have taken a picture.

No big deal.

I was too tired to care.