(So we were going to the mall. I could see why he thought of it as a ‘field trip’ for Canyon, who hardly ever left the house. I usually only made it there a few times a year, mainly for back-to-school crap. The locals that hung out there, especially in the summertime, we called ‘mall-rats’. With my AC being out, I could see why they did it!)

Canyon really didn’t look comfortable in clothes at all, and he stuck out like a busted thumb in his white suit. He kinda looked like a starter for a church soccer game, except for his sandals. Me, I blended in with any other kids there like a chameleon.

Except for my hair.

Canyon and me were the only ones with close-cropped haircuts, and we got some looks from other boys. The few men we passed – they must have worked nights to be out – seemed to like it. One old man who was about 150 years old, even shook Mr. Poore’s hand and gave us both a quarter before he hobbled off griping about “hippies and the younger generation.” I guess his eyes were too bad to see Canyon’s earrings.

“Perhaps I should tell him he’s 20 years out of date?” Mr. Poore laughed.

Canyon was studying the vending machines in the hallway, and his father nodded when he looked at him. There was like mental telepathy between them, I thought. Canyon waited, and got a quarter pack of no-sugar gum at the store on the west side of the first hall. He shared it with me.

“Boys, sit here a moment,” Mr. Poore then told us, pointing to a bench. “I should make a call. Five minutes at the most!” Then he headed for the payphone, after mooching my quarter!

(No cell phones back then, or card-reading phones, remember?)

We were sitting there when a gang of about 10 boys came up to us. They were about our age, and all dressed about like me. Long-haired-Mall-rats. One look at their tennis shoes told me they were too poor to have central air at home. That was why they were there.

“Are you a boy or a short-haired girl?” One of them laughed at Canyon. They all joined in.

“Joinin’ the army?” Another one asked me.

“Did’ja steal mommy’s earrings?” Another laughed at Canyon.

I was getting ready to run, looking for Mr. Poore, but Canyon just sat there with that blank look on his face.

“I never had a mother,” he replied, just chewing his gum.

“I’m not surprised!” The first boy laughed again.

“So are you a BOY or a GIRL?” The second repeated.

“No,” Canyon told him.

“Guys, he’s…he’s been sick…”I tried to butt in, since they were ignoring me.

“No shit?” The first, the leader(?) snorted. “And what are you?”

“My brother,” Canyon told him in a voice deeper than I’d heard him use. He got up. The first boy shoved him down; they laughed again.

“Can-…”

“Stay OUT of it, B.,” he snapped at me. He got back up and cracked his knuckles.

It happened so damn fast I didn’t even see it. One second, Canyon was staring down this boy a head taller than him, and the next thing I knew, the kid was down on the floor holding his face and crying. For just a flash, I saw Canyon leave the floor.

“OOO BWOKE BY ‘OSE!” He wailed.

His gang backed off fast.

I saw that one of Canyon’s sandals was gone.

I guess he kicked him in the face?

One of the smaller boys ran and got the sandal, gave it back to Canyon, and they scattered.

About then, a mall cop showed up.

“What’s all this?” He demanded. Then he looked at Canyon and smiled.

“He was picking on us, Joe,” Canyon told him.

Joe looked at me, bent down, touched my tanline with one finger, rubbed the side of my head, and then smiled. “Where’s your daddy?” Joe asked.

“Phone, sir,” Canyon told him.

I perked up at once. Canyon and Joe knew each other. And Joe knew something about the tanlines on our necks?

“You there,” He jerked the hurt kid to his feet by the shirt collar. The kid looked at Canyon, wide-eyed, and shook loose and ran!

“YOU, Canyon, are a trouble-maker!” Joe laughed at him. Then he hugged him! For someone who didn’t get out much, Canyon seemed known? But by a mall-cop?

“Who’s your friend?” Joe asked.

“This is my new brother, Benny, sir,” Canyon smiled. “He’s staying with us now!” Canyon just smiled.

“I …see!” Joe said slowly, appraising me. “He’s new, you say?”

“Brand new!” Canyon smiled bigger, if he could have?

Just then, Mr. Poore came back. Joe explained it to him. Canyon had sat back down and bowed his head.

“I’d reward him, if he was MY boy,” Joe grinned, but I didn’t see a wedding ring on his hand. Or a tan mark from it if he’d took it off. “Wish MY boy could learn to fight!”

“Joe,” Mr. Poore said in a warning tone, “You know I don’t like it when Canyon fights.”

I was just blown away. What the hell else did I not know about my new friend?

“Sir, they started it, they were making fun of him!” I spoke up, waving my hand about halfway up.

“Is this true?” Mr. Poore asked.

“Yes,” Some lady cut in, “I was coming out of the shop there, and I saw it! Picking on the poor little thing!” She kinda whined.

Poor little thing? Canyon? Hell he’d just kicked a big kid in the face!

“Not a mark on him,” Joe pointed out.

“Canyon,” Mr. Poore said, softer.

Canyon finally looked at him.

“How many were there?”

“I dunno, 10 er 12?”

Mr. Poore’s jaw dropped.

“Reward him, Martin,” Joe said.

And I finally knew Mr. Poore’s first name! ‘Martin’!

Mr. Poore and Joe shook hands. Mr. Poore sighed. “Boy, you never cease to amaze me!” He told Canyon, who finally smiled. Mr. Poore held out his hand. Canyon got up hugged him instead. I got up, and waited. Joe nodded at me, grinned, and left. I swore he was checking me out!

“Sir?” I asked, still half-scared of him and what I was looking at with 2 weeks, “How did that man know Canyon, and why’d he look at my tanline on my neck?”

“Lesson #1,” Mr. Poore smiled at me.

I thought about it. If they were friends, sure he knew Canyon, then. But…then I knew it! The tanline! It was a sign to Mr. Poore’s friends! People who knew him! People like him…

‘Like him?’

What was I thinking? I was thinking about the missing Ronnie T. who might ‘Tyrone’ again. THAT’S what I was thinking. God, were they setting it up to grab ME next? And with mom being out of town for 2 weeks? It was all about how Joe looked at me. How he touched me…

I shivered again. Hell, I was ALREADY grabbed…

“Well, my boy, it looks like you can have both albums now,” Mr. Poore conceded, and steered us towards the record store. (OK, 8-tracks were on the way out, cassettes were coming up, and the CD hadn’t come out yet.)

The Muzaak system was playing a song, and I got chills: “Oh, we all have a face, that we hide away forever, and we take them out and show ourselves when everyone has gone. Some are satin, some are steel, some are silk and some of leather…”

I thought of Canyon dressed in white satin.

Once in the record store, Canyon seemed to cut loose. For him, I mean – he acted like a normal kid. He took off at once – as soon as his dad released his hand and slapped his butt, that is. It was another signal. He went right to the rock section and started flipping through albums, smiling like it was his birthday.

“Do you like music, Benny?” Mr. Poore asked me, as I just followed Canyon. I didn’t have any money of my own on me. I’d left the $5 at home, and he’d took my quarter for the phone call.

“Yes, sir, but I don’t have very many records,” I told him. “Mom says that’s what the radio is for.”

“Then how can you listen to what you wish, when you wish?”

I shrugged. “Call in a request?” I offered.

Mr. Poore was not impressed. “Your mother does not reward, nor positively reinforce good behaviour,” he said in a mad voice. “I shall remedy that at once. You will pick out twelve of your favorite records, or cassettes if you prefer. Consider it 12 years of missed Christmases. Canyon,” he added, “Is this acceptable?”

“I didn’t know, Father!” Canyon said, just as mad. “She doesn’t get you special things, or do special things, when you do good?”

I shook my head, and my face was hot again.

It was true, though. Mom didn’t buy me shit. Christmas was clothes, candy, maybe a model kit. Mostly it was things like those dumb encyclopedias. I had to beg for a bike when I outgrew my 20”. I learned a long time ago not to ask for shit in a store. “I’M NOT MADE OUT OF MONEY!” She’d yell at me.

“You don’t listen to disco, do you?” Canyon fretted.

“Uhm, no?”

“Good!”

“Amen!” Mr. Poore added.

So Canyon got his promised 2, and I got 9 albums, 3 tapes. 3 of them weren’t on vinyl, they were out. I wasn’t sure about tapes. They looked junky to me, tiny little print, tiny little artwork. Canyon’s ‘Azia’ record was so cool with that dragon coming up out of the ocean on the cover. I’d move to the “D’s” while Mr. Poore and Canyon were down at the “Y” end of the racks.

I was picking my stuff out when a Japanese-something-kid came up to me and said, “Hi!”

He was about 11, maybe, 10? A bit shorter than Canyon. He had a haircut like ours, and his ears were pierced, too, with gold loops – 1 in each. I glanced down at Canyon.

Then I looked at the kid and saw the white tanline on his bronze neck.

“Hi, I’m Kim!” He said and held out his hand.

I shook it, slow. He saw I was staring.

“Are you Canyon’s new playmate?” He asked.

There was that word again.

I dropped my DD album on the floor. He picked it up.

“I…I’m Benny,” I told him. Kim? I knew that name! Kim was an Asian name, yeah! “Are you Tryone’s friend?” I asked him.

Kim just froze.

I was right. Kim, Tyrone, and Leon.

Leon the realtor, maybe?

Kim then touched my tanline, and I looked at his. He jerked a finger at me, and whispered in my ear. “How do you know about Tyrone?”

“I heard Mr. Poore on the phone. I spent 2 days at Canyon’s already!” I told him. “I’m there for 2 weeks.”

Kim seemed to like that answer, but he looked confused. “Did you work out?”

I looked him over, and he looked just like Canyon- built. Smaller, thin, but built all the same. “Oh, yeah! Canyon almost killed me!” And it wasn’t a lie!

Kim smiled. “Don’t talk about Tyrone, he’s a secret,” Kim nodded, very serious. “And you’re the new boy, staying 2 weeks, you said?”

“Yeah?”

“You like that?” Kim asked, “You’re not scared?”

“Some?” I played along.

“You seen the doctor yet?”

“No?” I shook my head, and he touched my ear.

“Oh, OK!” He said, smiling with bright white teeth.

“Are you Japanese?” I asked.

“Half,” Kim nodded. “Half Filipino. I guess I’m rare?”

“Huh?”

“I dunno either,” he shrugged. Then he looked at his watch. “I have to go, Daddy’s ready!” He pointed to a man near the exit. He waved. We both waved. Then the man (who was white) pointed. Kim nodded and his eyes got wide, then he ran down to the end of the rack and greeted Mr. Poore and Canyon. The boys hugged, and Mr. Poore gave Kim a shake, then kissed the shaved side of his head. Kim slapped me on the shoulder on the way out.

“See ya!” He called back.

When we checked out, I asked Canyon, “Is there anyone you DON’T know?”

“Lots of people!” Canyon giggled. “Do you like Kim?”

Mr. Poore, ever watching us, I saw.

“He was nice,” I nodded.

“He’s more than that!” Mr. Poore said in far-off voice, looking out the door.

I decided to keep my mouth shut about Tyrone. After all, I thought – I hoped – Mr. Poore didn’t know I’d spied on him that night he was out having a drink with Mrs. Smith’s cat.

Did he?

He knew you were at The Shack, I remembered.

From there, we went to the bookstore. Canyon loved books, and by the time we got out, Mr. Poore had shot another $50 on his Gold Card. I was just about to say something, I couldn’t understand it, but I guess he saw the look on my face.

“Benny, my money is NOT your concern,” he told me with a grin, “As I introduced myself, I am named ‘Poore’, but I am anything ‘but’! I could buy this mall and run it, if I chose to.”

I thought of the Ferrari.

“Yes, sir!” I nodded at him, and I was all business, too, like he was.

He laughed and slapped me on the butt, hard! I flinched.

“Let’s go have lunch at the buffet,” He suggested. “I’m famished. Shopping is hard work!”

Canyon just held his hand and smiled the whole time.

At the buffet, I copied what Canyon was putting on his plate. His watch said it was past 12, and lunch was late, by his schedule. But then again, we were on a field trip. “Field trip?” I wondered. We didn’t meet up with anyone else in the mall that they knew, but I did spot one more short haircut like ours – a boy with a tanline around his neck. He was white, older, taller, and he didn’t speak to or look at us as we passed him. He was checking his watch, and he looked like he was hurrying. I didn’t think Mr. Poore saw him.

I ended up choking down stuff like green beans, baby cabbages he called ‘sprouts’, a baked sweet potato, and any kind of meat I wanted. Canyon was tearing up a rare steak with his bare hands like a vampire or something! And of course, water. Lots of water. When we were done eating, I had to pee so bad that I got brave and asked.

Mr. Poore thought about it, like he was teasing me, and finally took us to the restroom.

We didn’t hit any clothing stores, but that didn’t surprise me. I wondered where Canyon’s white outfit had come from anyway. We did go to the sports store, though, where Mr. Poore bought a few sets of ankle weights and more fillers. I wondered what those were for? He also bought some small dumbbells. I had to carry all that!

Our last stop was a shoe store. He bought me sandals like Canyon’s, and my beat-up sneakers that had lived all school year went in the trash with my socks. I didn’t say a word. HE could answer to Mom about that.

When we got back to the van, he belted Canyon in and put his collar back on him, padlock and all. Then he secured it to the strap through the seat. The van didn’t have a side glass, and I knew Canyon couldn’t really see out. I only could through the windshield, if I sat up. I put my seatbelt on, and picked up my cut necklace.

I touched my neck.

I remembered Kim doing that to me, and I got hard right off.

Was it some kind of clue he was giving me, about the tanline? About the necklaces…collars?

Why did mentioning Tyrone upset him, if they were ‘playmates’? He got to go to the mall with his dad, who wasn’t Japanese or Filipino, and Tyrone didn’t?

Another question.

More mystery.

“So, Benny, tell me what you learned on this excursion?” Mr. Poore asked, glancing at me in the mirror.

I just straight out said it: “Good behaviour is rewarded. Screw up, and you get punished. A swat on the butt don’t always mean you were bad. And some boys, like Canyon and me, have tanlines on their necks, and you all know each other, them and their dads.”

“You get a gold star!” Mr. Poore laughed.

Canyon glanced up from one of his books and smiled.

“And for that, we’re going to reward you later!” Mr. Poore added.

Canyon reached over to hold my hand, but he was smiling. He still looked sad at the same time, though?

The rest of the ride was pretty quiet, and Canyon didn’t seem bothered at all that his dad had destroyed the present he’d made me.

When we got home, Mr. Poore hit his door opener and pulled the van into the garage next to the Ferrari. I realized then that just because if the van was gone, it didn’t mean that he was. The door went shut.

That was it.

I was trapped for 2 weeks.

We carried the stuff in, and Canyon organized it at once. Records were on the shelf in the living room, neatly of course, and books on the very full bookshelf. It was like a library along the east wall. Canyon put one book on his nap palette. His watch beeped 4, and he was yawning. I had to pee again, but I didn’t dare ask.

It was naptime.

Back to the routine.

We had our shakes, which made me cringe. I hadn’t eaten much, though, so I wasn’t too full. But I had to pee!

“Undress,” Mr. Poore told us, and we stripped off. Clothes went into 2 bags, one for each of us, and Mr. Poore took them down the hall and up the stairs. I heard a door open, the lock.

We laid down, and I was out like a light.

The alarm woke us up at 6, and my neck itched. I felt like I had to shit, but I figured I wouldn’t. Canyon stretched when he got up, hugged me tight, and gasped. Then he smiled again and kissed me on the mouth, hard! I didn’t know I was going to do it, but I did – I kissed him back, and I felt his tongue on my lips! I pulled back, looked at him, and he looked like he’d just met Santa Claus or something!

Then Mr. Poore was there.

I held up my hand, pleading on my face.

“What is 6PM, Benny?”

“Free time, sir?” I asked. He nodded, and I ran to pee! I didn’t have to poop, either; felt like it, my butt felt funny, but no go.

When I washed my hands, I looked up in the mirror.

My necklace was back, repaired, but it was different: There was a tiny brass padlock on the front now, connected to two woven-in steel rings. I spun it around, and it was really snug. On the back was a ring that was flat on one side, like a “D”.

Just like Canyon’s.

“Benny’s my brother!” He’d said.

“Brothers,” I whispered, and it came to me – a brotherhood of some kind? Necklaces that locked, left tanlines for ID to others out in public, and all us boys with the same haircuts. Home-schooled, nudist boys…with no balls? I had to wonder.

“The doctor’s coming on Thursday,” he’d said.

Kim asked if I’d saw the doctor yet.

Did Kim have balls?

Did that other boy?

I shivered again.

And what was with that kiss? Kissing me with tongue?! Boys DIDN’T DO that!

“Gay boys with no balls?” I whispered. “Is that it?”

Now I had the collar to keep me there, in addition to being locked in, fenced in, and kept naked.

We had free time.

It was still sunny out, and wouldn’t be dark until after 8. Mr. Poore said our reward for being so good at the mall was that we could swim if we wanted to, and that he had a special treat for us. He opened the freezer, and took out a bucket of ice cream. “Home made, and not with sugar,” he told us, “Honey!”

Canyon was just drooling, I could tell.

“Benny, how do you like your necklace?” Mr. Poore then asked, his huge dick standing there with that ring in it, like it was making fun of me. I got hard at once. They both laughed. I touched the collar.

Yes, it was a collar, I decided.

Like a dog’s.

“I…I…you fixed it, sir?” I asked.

“I broke it, I fixed it,” Mr. Poore explained. “Canyon made it, and it would have just destroyed him to see you not wearing it.”

“I love it!” I lied, and Canyon hugged me again. He was near to tears, I thought.

“He thought it was ruined, didn’t you, boy?” Mr. Poore asked.

Canyon nodded. “Yes, sir, I’m sorry, sir” he added. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“You made a small error,” Mr. Poore told him, and it sounded bad to me. Canyon flinched and held my hand.

“But for now, swim, have fun, whatever. It is your 2 hours, boys.” Then he turned around and headed for the door that led to his office, whatever that was.

We went out to swim, and Canyon seemed happy again.

“He’s going to spank you, isn’t he?” I asked, as we got wet.

“Yes, but I deserve it,” Canyon shrugged. “He always takes care of everything. He never messes up.”

“Canyon,” I asked him, “What about when he’s gone? No one lives forever, I mean?”

“That’s why he’s training me,” Canyon replied, very serious, as he jumped back in.

We swam for about an hour, then Canyon wanted to listen to his new album. We went in, and he played it. The system sounded great! It was the heat of the moment…showed in your eyes…

“You’re gonna be sore tomorrow, Benny,” he warned me, “Exercise, you know!”

For a minute, I thought he meant a spanking!

But then I remembered I had made “errors”.

I had one coming.

And my dick got hard.

Canyon just laughed.

I figured he jack me off in the bath that night. I wanted to try it, but I wasn’t sure if ‘free time’ included that, even though he’d done me that first time and sort of jacked himself off in front of the TV.

We had grilled pork chops and asparagus for dinner. It was gross, but I ate it. He also had us drink red wine again. I choked it down, then hit the water. Then it was time for ice cream, and Canyon was literally bouncing in his seat as it was served to him. It was a ‘reward’, Mr. Poore called it. It was homemade, and it was great!

We cleaned up, and by then, it was bath time.

Before we went in, though, Mr. Poore asked me, “Benny, when do you usually have, erm, your usual movement?”

“Sir?”

“A bowel movement?” He clarified.

I blushed red, I know.

“Uhhh, usually, I mean, lately, since you started feeding me, at like 3 in the morning, sir?” I answered.

Why did that matter?

-Scheduling-

I wondered when Canyon took a dump, since it wasn’t on the list?

“That just won’t do,” He told me. “I understand that the diet has shocked your system, but we’re going to have to reset your colon,” he told me.

I gulped.

Reset it – HOW?

“Sir?”

Canyon was shaking his head.

“Father, he doesn’t know,” Canyon supplied.

“What is WRONG with that woman?” Mr. Poore snorted, as he stopped doing dishes. I guess Canyon wasn’t allowed? “What does she do if you get clogged up?”

“A laxative pill, sir?”

“Oh, bollocks,” Canyon sighed, “Those things don’t do shit!”

Mr. Poore gave him a look, then burst out laughing.

Puns are funny, I guess?

I wasn’t laughing though.

What was he going to DO to me?

“Sir, I…I’m sorry, I don’t have to go now?” I said.

“Yes, you will,” Mr. Poore replied. “Canyon, take him down to the basement. We can’t have him soil his bed at 3AM, and there’s NO getting up!”

“Sir? What if I have to pee at night?”

He nodded at Canyon.

“How do babies do it?” Canyon asked.

I froze again.

“D-diapers?” I croaked out.

Canyon nodded.

“Don’t pee the bed, Benny, or it’s a diaper for the next day and night. Trust me, working out in a diaper sucks! You get a rash!”

Mr. Poore laughed.

I thought of that clear ring I’d seen between Canyon’s buttocks again.

So we went down to the basement. Canyon turned the first set of lights on, so I couldn’t see the end of it. I was sure that barber chair was still there, though. We went into the bathroom near the stairs, and I almost freaked.

It was huge!

There was a big, sunken tub and three toilets, and three urinals. There were three shower heads on the wall, and halfway up the chrome pipes, there was another valve. A white hose was connected at the valve, so you could turn it and have hose or shower, or both? The hoses were coiled up like firehoses, and on the end of each one was a thing like a plumb line end. There was also a garden hose on a coil on the wall, and other faucets, too, with huge sinks. Little benches along the wall on wheels, like the one I’d laid on before, made it kinda creepy. I could clearly see the restraints.

Plumb line? OK, Scott’s dad made us learn that. Hardware man, remember? A plumb line was shaped like a cone, rounded on one end, and you hung it up to see if a wall was straight. I guess it looked like a big acorn? All three were red, but one of them was big.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Benny, you ever had a’enema?” Canyon asked.

I remembered the encyclopedia. I’d seen ‘enema’ while looking for ‘eunuch’, but there wasn’t a sketch. “An infusion of liquid into the rectum,” it has said. I hadn’t looked up “infusion,” but I knew what a rectum was. “Liquid…into the rectum” could mean only 1 thing, though!

“That…that thing…”

“nozzle?” Canyon cut in, nodding.

“That…nozzle…goes in your butt?” I gasped, “Then you turn the water on?”

“Yep! Washes the poop right outta your arse!”

“Oh shit,” I groaned, trembling.

“You sure do!” Canyon laughed.

“You…you…get them a lot?” I asked, terrified.

“Every day,” Canyon nodded again. “I’ve never pooped on my own. I don’t ever have to go, because Father makes sure I go when he wants me to! I’m clean inside and out, all the time!”

“Oh…my…gosh,” I breathed. “D-does…does it hurt?” I asked, as I sat down on the edge of the tub. The cold porcelain felt good, as I was sweating despite being naked in the cool room.

“The plug might hurt the first time, but if you push out, and don’t fight it, it’s not bad. You’ll get a small one, smaller than mine, so it won’t be bad,” Canyon assured me. He sat down and put his arm around me.

It was too much.

Marked boys, tanlines, nudists, Canyon kissing me, his weird-ass schedule, and the threat of a spanking, or diapers? And now THIS? A hose up my butt? How much water was he going to pump into me?

I started crying.

“It’s OK, Benny,” he told me. “You get used to it. And you never have an accident!”

I shook my head.

“C’mon,” he said, taking my hand and trying to pull me up. “If I can do it, you can! Besides, it feels good!”

“HUH?!”

“You’re empty, clean, and you always know,” Canyon nodded happily. “For me, it’s easy! I can give myself one, any time I want! Watch!”

I just sat and stared as he went and pulled a little padded bench out from near the wall. It was the same bench I’d laid on when I’d had my ‘good rub’ for a sunburn and tension. He locked the wheels.

Canyon turned on the water, pulled the bulb off one of the hoses, and let it run. He shivered. “Cold!” He gasped, as he turned up the hot water. He grabbed a small thermometer out of the soap dish. “102, just where I like it!” He declared.

“What…what about the nozzle?” I asked.

“Already got one in,” Canyon told me, and I knew what the butt-cheek ring was: it was to pull out the nozzle that was ALREADY up Canyon’s butt! The nozzle that he obviously KEPT up his butt, 24/7! I’d seen the ring days ago!

I didn’t know what to say, what to do. I was frozen. I guess I wanted to see it, since my dick was pounding again, hard.

He got a little bottle with a wide tip from the soapdish, reached around to his butt, and seemed to wiggle it.

“You learn how to fit it on yourself,” he told me, then he squeezed the bottle. “Soda, salt and soap,” He told me.

‘Soap, up your butt?’ I wondered. ‘Does THAT hurt?’ Canyon discarded the bottle.

Canyon then reached around and attached the hose to his nozzle, moving the ring over with one hand, then laid down on the bench on his back and sighed. I saw that he was laying not flat; his head was lower than his feet.

I saw there was a gauge in the white hose, and he was watching it. “When it hits 1.5, I stop,” Canyon told me. “Too much, and it hurts. Too much, and you could die.”

I just watched as his belly got bigger and bigger. He looked like a balloon – and he was. He was a human water balloon! I could imagine him popping!

“Stop!” I cried.

“He knows what he’s doing, Benny,” Mr. Poor said, as he came in, his dick hard. He’d said a boy’s dick just GOT hard, like you couldn’t control it, though? But what if he got hard…because he liked little boys?

I shivered again. I was so scared I thought I was gonna puke.

What if they had grabbed that Ronnie T. kid, Tyrone? What if he was hid IN THE HOUSE somewhere? Was that why Kim said not to talk about him?

‘Two weeks,’ I told myself, ‘2 weeks, and I can call the cops!’

Then it hit me – SCOTT!

Scott knew!

I had to call Scott tomorrow! Wait, I said I’d call today? It was almost 9. His mom would be pissed.

“Done!” Canyon called, and Mr. Poore shut off the water. He massaged Canyon’s belly, up the left, over, down the right. He looked at the clock I hadn’t seen.

“He’ll hold that for 5 minutes, then release,” Mr. Poore told me. “While he is voiding, you’ll be getting filled. Then we repeat the process. In your case, though, Benny, since you’ve never had one and your mother has neglected to properly care for you, or feed you well, you may have to have more than 2.”

“But…but bed?” I asked.

“Canyon is usually in bed at 10, this takes an hour or so,” Mr. Poore said.

I nodded dumbly.

“Once you’re both clean, inside and out, and in bed, I’ll have mine, then turn in. Canyon is not allowed to watch me.” Mr. Poore told me.

Then he grabbed my hand.

I didn’t fight. I couldn’t. I was numb.

He just laid me down on the other bench he’d got out. He got a tube of KYJelly from the soap trap, and told me to relax.

“I don’t want to have to strap you down,” He told me, “But I will. Is that clear, boy?”

“Y-yes sir,” I cried.

Then his finger went inside me!

I yelped, but it felt…familiar? It felt good too, whatever his finger was touching.

“That is your prostate gland, Benny,” he told me, “A source of great pleasure, as you’ll come to know. Now, take a breath,”

I did that.

Then he pushed the nozzle in.

I yelled and tried to get up. “Take it out! Take it out, please! It hurts!”

Mr. Poore pushed me back down and told me to relax. Then he strapped me down. The nozzle was driving me crazy, burning, touching my prostate (he said) and my dick was throbbing. Then he pulled those hose off of it and connected it to one that was running. He shot something into the nozzle, the little bottle like Canyon had had, and I felt it going into me. Then he put the hose on and increased the flow.

“Can’t have air in there,” He told me, and I could feel the hot water filling me up. It wasn’t long before a cramp hit me, and I looked like a balloon.

Canyon flushed, then came over to hold my hand. He kissed me again. “It’s OK,” he kept telling me, but it wasn’t! I was hot and sweating now, and the cramps hurt!

“Twelve years of build-up,” Mr. Poore said, when he shut the water off and began rubbing my belly. God, I was huge!

“As you get bigger, you can hold more,” he told me. “I know boys who can go to 3.”

I just laid there, freaking out, and whimpered while Canyon held my hand.

Then he was touching me.

I opened my eyes.

He was going to jack me off, right in front of his dad!

WHAT THE FUCK?

Mr. Poore nodded at him.

“To take your mind off of it,” he said with a grin. “You focus on the pleasure more than the discomfort. Don’t you, Canyon?”

“Oh, yes sir!” Canyon smiled.

So to get to it, I got off. I didn’t squirt, not like Scott, but it felt so damn good. That nozzle up my butt made it different, too, and it was better. I was almost yelling when the feeling passed.

Then the nozzle got pulled out and I was let loose to “void.”

I almost didn’t make it.

I won’t talk about that. It was bad. They laughed at me, and I wound up getting filled up 3 more times. I thought I was going to die, I was so weak and hot. I went to sleep in the middle of the 4th time, even.

I don’t remember being put to bed. All I remember was being told I wasn’t perfectly clean yet, but that I exhausted and couldn’t do any more.

The last thing I remembered that night was being given a bath, sort of, and dried off and carried back upstairs. Mr. Poore had me, and was holding me really tight. Then he kissed me and told me goodnight…

…and that he loved me.

That was something new for me.