by Tad

PART B1: THE PRACTITIONERS

PREFACE

This is a fairly long study and does meet the basic Archive ‘requirement’ with the tags being seriously accurate…consider yourself advised. It is dedicated to the innumerable young casualties who have, for a myriad of reasons, been either denied a choice or silenced forever by the conjunctive forces of selfish abusers and categorically flawed social misconceptions.

Finally please note the situations herein depicted could easily be recognizable within any given community. Rest assured any such similarity is purely and absolutely co-incidental. Furthermore if you or your community lacks tolerance for studies that delve into variant human sexualities, the greater wisdom would be to seek other reading material.

CHAPTER 1: THE "DOCTOR"…IF YOU WILL…JOINS THE RATRACE

The man was a filthy bastard…and that’s just about all one can say about the ‘good’ Doctor Bacil. Generally doctors are rarely referred to in those terms but in this case, it would be the only description that fit. Presumably his primary goal should have been focused on healing and guiding the sick back to health. Yet the man long before ever entering Medical School harbored no intentions of adhering to that supreme and altruistic principle. Instead, becoming a doctor was nothing more than a means to an end. He had discovered during his short childhood and subsequent pubertal years the overpowering pleasures of catering to his consuming and dominant dark side.

His father was the renowned Dr. Carmine Bacelli, an especially arrogant albeit extremely talented reconstruction surgeon. Although he could, and did, rebuild many areas of the human body, his primary area of interest was the female breast. But Dr. Bacelli was also quite predisposed to ‘examining’ women sexually when they were under anesthesia…and told the women ahead of time he would be doing exactly that. His explanation to his patients was that he would be looking for potentially cancerous lesions and had them sign a waiver to that effect. If they didn’t like it, too fucking bad…they were welcome to find another doctor. He vehemently defended his position by stating he was not about to allow a beautiful woman suffer from cancer if he could stop it. Most if not all of his patients did sign the waiver. Dr. Bacelli was quite handsome and still a hunk despite being middle aged.

But the truth Carmine admitted only to himself and his closest circle was that since he was the best there was, his female patients owed him the opportunity to touch them sexually…still his penis he sagaciously kept within his pants. In all fairness, the doctor did discover more than a few potential cancers…but clearly enjoyed ‘inspecting’ the multitude of vaginas that came his way. And age made no difference to him. Young girls or older women…if their vagina was on his table, he believed it was his for the taking. So did Carmine’s wife…

The woman Carmine had ultimately married was a quite attractive…and a lesbian. She too was well known in her field, not surprisingly, of gynecology. Her name was Dr. Leslee Ceacil and the two high-powered doctors agreed to no name changes upon marriage. To Carmine, she represented a challenge…could not he the sexiest man alive ‘straighten’ her out? The short answer was “no” but she was still a damn good screw so they stayed married. He would frequently invite her in to ‘observe’ his patients as she was useful clinically. But it was not unusual for her to take pictures of the more attractive women…

Neither Carmine nor Leslee wanted a bunch of kids but they did agree to have just one. She didn’t really care about the gender but he did. The one child had to be a male as that was what Carmine’s ego dictated the child should be. It took four aborted female fetuses before Carmine’s wish was granted. And then he almost decided to abort this one as well. His fear was that perhaps his son would be greater than he. But a serious challenge to the old man’s esteemed legacy would not be forthcoming. The child, while significantly more crafty, was not imbued with his father’s rather high intellectual prowess. If Carmine had anything to fear it would be the damage his son could do to the family reputation.

In the end the egotistical need to prove to the world that he, the great Dr. Bacelli, could spawn a male child won out. Still he refused to give the offspring his surname to reserve his legacy for himself. So his wife came up with the novel idea of combining both their names to create the child’s name…hence the chosen name: Lesley Carmin Bacil.

Not unexpectedly, the parents were not nurturing and turned child rearing over to caretakers. One nanny, particularly predisposed to corporal punishment, subjected the child to frequent spankings in the parents’ absence. Starved for direct parental attention, Carmine’s six-year-old offspring found these somewhat painful episodes would stimulate his short albeit fat penis into a stubby erection. The child would have his first orgasm humping the nanny’s knee over which he had been bent at the conclusion of a nasty spanking. The disgusted nanny immediately quit.

Despite their limited contact with their son, both parents made it clear this family was better and more deserving than everyone else. And once Lesley began attending school, even mild disciplines meted against the child were deemed by the parents to be the fault of the teacher. The teachers did their best but dared not fail the child firstly for fear of repercussions from the parents and secondly to move the bastard the hell out of their class!

CHAPTER 2: VICTIM…OR BRAT?

To further the faux sense of superiority, Lesley Bacil began puberty precociously garnering a small pubic bush of hair at eight years of age. He’d be shaving his face less than three years later. And he soon became aware he was now stronger than his peers punishing those boys ignorant enough to cross him. The first time he was caught fighting, the parents were called in. Lesley’s father was forced to accept his son’s misbehavior due to the many witnesses. At home, Carmine severely reprimanded the ‘man’ child…not for fighting, but for being caught!

So Lesley learned it was better to engage in altercations out of the sight of authority. He’d catch kids behind bushes and other convenient obstacles to bloody their faces…and then blame someone else if he could. That worked quite well…until the older brother of Lesley’s current victim caught him. Lesley had broken the younger boy’s nose and cracked his front teeth. Needless to say the older brother was not amused. He spun Lesley around viciously slicing the ‘man’ child twice across the genitalia with a switchblade. Lesley was left to bleed on the ground with no one to help him. He had to call emergency on his cell phone for help.

At the hospital, it took thirty stitches to close the paunchy scrotum and a similar number to repair the ‘man’ child’s fat stumpy and uncircumcised penis. But Lesley had suffered permanent damage. After a rather painful recovery, his aroused penis would twist and bend sharply at the injury site. It seemed the inexperienced emergency room doctor had inadvertently removed a chunk of the internal erectile tissue.

Relative to the attack, no one offered to witness on Lesley’s behalf. Even when Bacil singled out the attacker, no less than five people supported the older brother with rock solid alibis. But as a family, none of them even considered that maybe they were not, in fact, the center of the universe. Lesley’s parents were aghast that no one would come to their defense. After all, weren’t they far more worthy? The son of two world class surgeons should clearly garner more respect than some measly kid who probably deserved a ruined set of front teeth.

But for Lesley, the event had a different effect. During his recovery from the knife attack, he realized how powerless he had felt after being cut. The ten minute wait for the ambulance to arrive had been the worst experience of his life. At twelve years old, he already had easily three years of masturbation ‘under his belt’, so to speak. Now he could loose that ability if the doctors were not able to put him back together. He was absolutely terrified of the possibility.

To make matters worse, his parents had been away conducting a medical seminar at the time of the attack so it was the local hospital that attended to Lesley…and they did a crappy job. He ended up with dead spots and sore areas across his genitalia along with the twisting erection. His father did have the ability to clean things up for the most part, but Lesley could hardly tolerate the thought let alone actual additional cutting ‘down there’ and refused to let his father even look.

It took three months to heal and Lesley was quite glad to find he could still masturbate. During these self-gratifying events, he became even more acutely aware of what he had almost lost which served to intensify his moment of ecstasy. He knew he would not ever want to risk loosing his genitalia again and, since his family was more important than others, why should he? On the other hand, Lesley would frequently fantasize about other boys of insignificant status having theirs severed completely. And more times than not he’d be wielding the blade…

One of Lesley’s favorite would-be victims to fantasize about was the older brother who had done the slicing. His dark dreams though became his only outlet for revenge as that family moved away after the incident. But denied his ‘right’ for actual pay back, Lesley considered himself cheated, degraded and powerless. He had to find a method to assert himself and the coming summer would foment a channel for his dark passions.

Note: Continued in Chapter Three ~ Lad at the Pool