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XIV Back To School
First day of school was, as usual, complete chaos in the Chandler home. For different reasons, Tim and Terry were both anxious to look their best and so had changed their clothes several times until they had just the right combination. Tim was assigned the task of looking out for his brother to make sure he got to the right classes on time. This was a chore that Tim didn't really mind, although he knew it would be no big deal if the boy got confused. At any rate, the day went without a hitch, with Tim renewing a lot of acquaintances and Terry pleasantly surprised to find a lot of kids he knew in his classes. Tim was becoming increasingly nervous about his first appearance in the shower room, be he knew he had a few more days at least before that happened, so he concentrated on getting his schedule correct and sorting out what books he had and what he had still to buy. Tim attacked his studies when school opened with a new vigor, even for him. He and Laura had already put together an outline on their research paper and shown it to Mr. Simmons, and he was very impressed. "It's too bad you didn't prove your theory," he said by way of encouragement, "but that is what research is for. It will be even more difficult to write an interesting paper on the things you did learn, but you're off to a very good start." Tim had not shared with Laura all the gory details of the human sacrifices and bloodletting he'd learned about, but he laid it on the table now for her and the teacher. Gory things like drinking one's own and others' blood, genital mutilation, decapitation and extracting the heart from live and conscious victims had all been commonplace religious rituals in the Mayan civilization. "I am inclined not to include it," Tim said. "I was extremely traumatized by some of the pictures I was shown, and the graphic descriptions were even worse! Then when I saw an actual altar, I had nightmares for days afterwards. Of course that altar was over a thousand years old and all the blood is gone now, but in my dreams it was red with the blood of hundreds of victims. I know that a good researcher reports all he learns, but I just don't see how this could have any positive results. I wanted you to know that I did find out about it, but if I never discuss it again it'll be ok with me." Tim was supposed to meet Larry for lunch the next day, but Larry was nowhere to be found. One of the other boys said he thought he'd seen him leaving the campus, so Tim shrugged and assumed he'd forgotten. So he sat down with Laura and another couple. He and Laura, as usual, spent the entire time discussing their paper, with Tim filling her in on more details of some of the interviews he'd had at the university. "I'm really impressed with how many authorities you met, Tim," she gushed. "How in the world did you manage?" Tim realized that Laura was staring at him, that same knowing look on her face that he often got from his mother when she knew he was evading her. "What?" he asked defensively. Tim was shocked to his very toes! Was it really that obvious, or was Laura just fishing? He decided it was the latter and opened his mouth to deny her suggestion, then closed it again. Laura had been so great about everything, and he did want to share Carlos with more people, so he decided to open up at least a little. "We had a bit of a fling, yeah," he said weakly. "We're gonna stay in touch, and it might develop and it might not. He lives so far away, and he's still got two years of school left, and..." The days passed, and all the students settled into a routine. Tim and Larry had taken Terry under their wing and helped the boy adjust to life in the huge new school, seeing to it that he didn't get lost, and protecting him, to a large degree, from the usual teasing of upperclassmen. Terry had been both excited and scared about being advanced a year, which had put him in high school a year early, which was not a welcome development with Tim. That meant that any rumors, any tales of a senior with no penis would hit his brother's ears directly and swiftly. Now, however, that concern was no longer valid, so the two brothers began to enjoy sharing the same school campus for Tim's final year. Within a month, Terry had found his "sea legs," as it were, and was pretty well on his own. He very quickly established himself as a good student and an accomplished athlete, even making the football and basketball teams in spite of his small size, much to Tim's surprise. He made a mental note that he would have to become a football fan, possibly even getting to understand the game in time. Terry's football uniform did nothing for Tim, but he was nothing short of gorgeous in his basketball shorts. But right now Tim was facing another challenge of an athletic nature: he was going to have to face the shower room! Ever since school had begun, Tim had found one excuse after another to get out of showering after gym. He had worn his shorts under his clothes, and since they were doing fairly light activities like running, climbing and playing soccer and baseball he had got away with it; but as the middle of October approached and it was getting too cold to go outside in their shorts, the gym teacher had informed them that they would be starting to get more strenuous, and showers afterward would not be an option. Tim dreaded those showers, knowing what would transpire when everyone saw his denuded crotch, but he knew he had no choice. His pubic hair had pretty well grown back, including enough of a bush over the scars that they were evident only upon close scrutiny. He was entertaining the hope that no one would notice, but he knew better. There was enough checking out going on in those showers, comparing sizes, etc, that someone was bound to notice. Tim was thinking of that gym class and trying in vain to come up with some way to avoid it, even though he knew there was no way. He fiddled idly with his computer, not really interested in what he was doing until he noticed he had mail, and from Carlos! Suddenly he felt so alone, so abandoned, so desperate to be in Cancun it was hardly bearable! He had done very well, he thought, exchanging email with Carlos two or three times a week. They had talked about their school activities, their social lives, even Tim's Maya project. Laura had raised some pretty tough questions which Tim had passed on to Carlos, who had contacted some of his dad's professor friends and got answers which he relayed back faithfully. There had been no talk from either boy about their love lives or lack of them, nor Carlos' conclusions, if any, about his sexuality. If only Carlos were here, he thought to himself. He was always so confident! He always knew what to do, and he never gave a flip about what anyone else thought or said. When I was with him I had that same confidence! I could do anything when I was with Carlos! Now I've been away from him for a couple months I've gone back to the way I was: scared of everything, can't even face my own body even though it's the way I wanted it! Why did I have to leave anyway? Why the hell does he have to live on the other side of the world? Why did I have to go and have my cock cut off? If I were in Cancun going to school with Carlos... .As he read the long note Carlos had sent, he envisioned the happy Mexican boy and all his friends, their friends now, going to school, spending time on the beach, dancing and having a great time. But as he neared the end of the note, Tim felt tears burning as he sensed Carlos getting more emotional. In spite of the paradise he was living in, his many good friends, the perpetual summer they enjoyed, Carlos began expressing loneliness, finally coming right out in his final sentence and saying what Tim had been feeling ever since the day he'd got on that plane. "I miss you so much, Tim," Carlos had written, "I love you!" As soon as Tim had read the words, his sight was too blurry to respond to the note. A song he'd heard lately returned to haunt him as it had done ever since he'd first heard it. He'd had countless fantasies after hearing that song, and tonight it seemed to him that the words to that song, if he could remember them, were the only thing he had to say to Carlos that had any meaning. So with the words and music spinning round in his head, he began to type with tears flowing down his cheeks. He didn't proofread, didn't even look; he just typed. I almost felt you touching me just now... If I could only fly The wind keeps blowin' somewhere... every day If I could only fly You know sometimes I write happy songs If I could only fly I love you too, Carlos! Tim would have written more but he was sobbing now, and he knew, no matter how depressing the song was, anything he wrote would be even more so. He clicked SEND just as there came a light tap on his door. Terry had come calling, for the first time since he'd learned of Tim's surgery. "Tim?" the immature voice came from the hallway, "you ok? Let me in, please?" Tim thought he had regained his composure, wiped his tears away and tried to look as if he'd just woke up from a nap when he opened his bedroom door, but he didn't fool Terry. His little brother closed the door quickly and locked it. "What's goin' on, Tim?" he demanded. "I thought I heard you crying." Terry guided his brother over to the bed and eased him and himself gently down on it, just like Tim had done to him the night he'd happened in on his naked brother. His hands roamed over Tim's slender back, digging his fingernails in just enough to soothe the sobbing teen. "What, Tim?" he pleaded. "What's happened?" Tim thought of what Terry had just said. The similarity to what he had only minutes before said to himself about Carlos startled him out of his crying fit. Terry thought he was confident? Smart? His hero? He thought of the beautiful young freshman in his boxers. He even wanted to wear the same underwear? "What... what rumors?" he asked as soon as he could speak. "Rumors about me?" "Tim, I've had half a dozen of your classmates tell me how sorry they are about what happened to you! I was so confused, cause none of them would talk about it. They said they understood how you must feel and didn't want to talk about it, that no one outside your class knew anything about it except the ones who had brothers in your class, but they wanted me to know that they felt sorry about it. Damn, Tim, your whole class is talkin' about it! They all talk to me cause they know how close we are. Tim, is that why you had to have your dick cut off?" "They're sayin' what?" Tim said with alarm. Tim was so shocked he could hardly breathe! So that's where Larry had been during those missed lunch appointments! He had been setting the stage for Tim's unveiling! He questioned Terry some more and discovered that one of Terry's friends had a brother in Tim's class, which when one thinks about it shouldn't have been that surprising. But more than anything else, Tim was truly touched by Terry's concern, and by Larry's efforts to defuse any incidents in the locker room before they developed. He decided then and there that Terry, through his concern, had earned the right to know the truth, and the whole truth. "I've already told you the whole thing," he said. "And remember you promised, Scout's Honor, that you wouldn't tell Mom and Dad. It's done now and no one can do anything about it, and tellin' them would only hurt them and I don't want that." Terry reaffirmed his promise, pointing out that he hadn't said a word to anyone since the night he'd found out. Then he demanded that Tim do him the same courtesy and tell him the truth. And Larry! Somehow, Larry had evidently managed to reveal Tim's secret to the boys in his class, but in such a way that only they knew, and they were being very choosy about whom they told. "There's no disease and there never was," Tim said as he looked his brother in the eye. "I'm not gonna die, Terry," Tim said as he caressed his brother's back. "I'm ok, really! I'm not sick and I never was. "I guess he was just tryin' to tell the kids that are gonna see me anyway, in a way that maybe they could accept," Tim speculated. He told his brother the whole story again from the start. He talked for well over an hour, beginning with his circumcision when he was only 8 and how disappointed he'd been when they didn't cut the whole thing off. He tried to explain that it was a fetish he'd had as long as he could remember, that he didn't understand it but it was just something he had to do. Terry pointed out that he knew Tim had been enjoying his cock for years and Tim agreed, but still there was a driving force inside him that just would not be denied. As he talked, both boys pulled their boxers back on and crawled into bed - Tim's bed, and turned out the light. "But I don't understand," Terry said when Tim had finally finished the story of his trip to Cancun, once again reaffirming that he had no illness that he knew about. "If it was what you always wanted and you finally got it, and you're not sick, why were you crying when I came in?" "That's the other part of what I gotta tell you, Terry," Tim said as the two brothers snuggled together. "When I was in Cancun, I... I kinda fell in love with Carlos. We were lovers, Terry! Do you know what that means?" Terry didn't say any more. Tim saw him in the pale moonlight lying on his back, staring straight up. He waited for what seemed an eternity, but still Terry didn't say anything. Tim looked closer and saw the glint of a tear running down the side of Terry's face. Now he'd done it! "I'm sorry, Terry," he stammered. "I shouldn't have dropped that whole load of crap on you all at once. I didn't choose to be gay, and sometimes I wish I wasn't. When I think of you and what a great little brother you've always been, I wish..." Terry didn't say anything for so long Tim would have thought he'd gone to sleep, except that he was still sobbing silently. Finally he spoke in a whisper. "I was pretty sure you were gay," he said, "but then you took Laura to the prom and that confused me. I didn't know what to think after that, but you kept telling me that you weren't interested in her except as a friend. I was hoping you'd be gay, Tim, cause then you'd understand where no one else does. I wanted to tell you so bad, Tim! But I couldn't be sure. And now... now it doesn't make any difference. Now we'll never know if... if..." Terry was starting to sob again. Another long pause while Terry composed himself - again! "I wanted to tell you that I'm gay too, Tim!" he blurted out. "I used to lie in bed and listen to you in here jerking off. You really did get pretty noisy you know. Then one night I hid in your closet. I was in there for two hours while you sat at your computer, an' then you finally went to bed and jerked off. I wanted so bad to go running out of that closet and... and... and now it's gone! You had such a beautiful dick, and now it's gone and we'll never know!" "I wanted you, Tim!" Terry said as he entire body started to quiver and tremble. "I wanted you so bad! I wanted your cock in my mouth, my hand, next to mine, anything! I just knew that if we could have sex it would be ok and I'd feel better about myself. But now..." "Please don't call me that any more," Terry said. "I keep tellin' you, I'm not a little kid any more! I hate it when you treat me like a little kid! If only you'd given me some sign, some way of knowin' that you felt that way! If I had only known for sure!" "But your brother's different," Terry said. "That was the first time for Nathan. It wouldn't be the first time for me. I know what I want, Tim, and I know what I am! I know that when I saw you for the first time since you had your dick cut off, I wanted to die! It's like... it's like you're not the same person." As if on cue the two boys heard a tap on the door. "Terry?" their mom's voice came from the other side of the door. "Why aren't you in bed, Terry? It's late." "You're sleeping with Tim tonight?" their mom said. "Why Terry? Tim? What on earth..." The exchange with their mother helped Tim to learn something about his brother that would be reinforced many times in the days to come. First, and most important to Tim was that Terry loved his big brother and would do anything for him; ANYTHING! Second, Terry could think on his feet, analyze a situation and come up with an appropriate response more quickly than Tim could even realize what was happening. Both qualities would not only endear Terry to Tim, but they would literally shape his future in the days to come. "You're the same devious little shit you've always been," Tim said when their mother had tucked them in and left the room. "Good!" Terry exclaimed. "Can I collect now?" They both wanted, and they both did. That was an offer that Tim could simply not refuse. He missed his own cock so much, and Terry's was almost a carbon copy of his own, except that it had what Tim considered to be an added bonus: it was still intact, including a foreskin! Each boy touched his brother, tentatively at first, but before long each was groping the other seriously, feeling and savoring every square inch of that part of his brother's body that usually does not see daylight. And that's the way they went to sleep: Tim's hand firmly grasping Terry's four and a half inch raging erection, Terry's lying flat against where Tim's penis used to be, two of his fingers almost touching behind the root of his scrotum where his urethra now exited. Both hands would be anointed before morning by the seed of the other in two almost simultaneous nocturnal emissions, the first for Tim in several weeks, and the first ever for Terry. At the very same instant that Tim and Terry were settling down for sleep, the battle was raging loudly in the Smith home in Cancun. "You can't just quit," Carlos was saying, almost screaming, to his father. "There's a lot of people out there like Tim who are depending on you! You told me yourself that you were providing a service that's almost impossible to find. You got patients from all over the world, and the number's growing. You CAN'T let them down, Dad!" Dr. Smith eyed his son as he thought of the dozens, perhaps hundreds of men he'd castrated, nullified, or both. He had subsequently heard from only a handful of them, which was to be expected. But what of the others? Were they doing as well as they had hoped, or were they full of regret and depression as he believed Tim was? He had been told from the start that he was playing with fire, that what he was doing was at best risky business, but he had ignored the warnings. Oh yes, he had analyzed each prospective patient carefully, and had even turned down a few... well, 4 to be exact. Wasn't that a pretty small number? Wouldn't that number have been a lot higher if had obtained the services of a qualified psychologist to assess his patients' readiness? But then he had never been one to put all his trust in psychologists. He knew there were good ones out there, like Roy from Atlanta. But he also knew of many trained shrinks who he considered to be little more than quacks! If he did do more psychological screening, that process alone would scare off a lot of patients, and it would certainly raise his costs. And even then he would have no guarantee the right decisions were being made. "I'm not going to quit right away," the doctor told his son. "But I am going to try to do a little better job of screening, and I want you to keep me well informed on how Tim is doing. If his situation doesn't improve, maybe we can convince him to come back for a castration." Carlos was aghast. Would his father do something like that? Carlos knew his dad had connections all over the world, at least with fellow doctors. He had received some of his medical training in California and had done his residency there, so there was no doubt in Carlos' mind that he probably knew people in Chicago. But was he really capable of doing that? Would he really arrange for Tim to be kidnaped and castrated? Then the real question invaded the young Mexican teen's mind. Should he warn Tim? That would be going against his own father, the man he had admired like no other his entire life! But Carlos knew Tim, and he knew how devastated he would be if he got castrated. So now what should he do? He could simply lie to his dad and say that Tim had come around and was feeling fine, but he had already assured the doctor that Tim's current depression had nothing to do with his losing his penis, and he hadn't believed it. Finally after a sleepless night, Carlos decided to do nothing, at least for now. Tim had lunch with Larry the day after he'd been stood up for the ninth time and he'd eaten with Laura. "Where were you yesterday?" he demanded. "We were supposed to eat together." Tim had a little trouble getting the words out, but finally he managed. "I just thought I might need a little moral support," he told his best friend. "I'm pretty nervous about gettin' naked in front of the whole class." Next: XV Gym Class
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