*

Mom didn’t get loaded that much, but when she did, she was a real bitch. I wondered if Mr. Poore knew that, since he knew everything else? She sent me straight to bed, it wasn’t even 10 yet, and smacked my sore ass all the way up the stairs.

“Why I ever … raise a boy alone…damn men…cut their balls off…up and leave, what they do…sign him over for good!” She was talking to herself as she slammed her bedroom door. “Damn air conditioner!” I heard her yell. Then it got quiet.

That was another thing – her stupid ‘anti-man’ rants when she got drunk. I was just glad she didn’t do it that much. Maybe once a month, but that was enough. The last time she slapped me so hard that it knocked a tooth loose. The good thing was, she passed out quick. I gave her ½ hour, tops, then she’d be snoring.

What do you expect out of someone who doesn’t even feed you half the time, and was gone all day? Normally, mom’s rants didn’t bother me. Then again, she might really like Canyon if she only knew?! But when she said, “Sign him over for good,” that really hurt.

I cried, and I thought it was stupid. Who cared, anyway? Hell, she only noticed me when I fucked up.

One good thing about Mr. Poore, I thought: he had food, and a lot of it. And a lot of it was stuffed into ME right then. Being full, warm, sore, all I wanted to do was lay down, but I wasn’t gonna let HER know that. I hung up the black monkey suit so it wouldn’t get damaged, and get me punished, and laid down naked on my bed. I didn’t even think about it – I just did it. It was hot, and it felt good.

Heck, I didn’t give myself ½ hour, either. I was dizzy and yawning, and still tasting that wine in my mouth.

I guess I didn’t go to sleep right off. I just laid there, all hot, sore, and more confused about what was going on. So far, all I knew was my necklace was going to give me a tanline, on purpose. I had no clue why, when you laid out naked so you DIDN’T get lines? And how in the HELL did Canyon survive every day? I hurt so bad that I felt worse than if it was the flu. And I was looking at 2 weeks of it. I just stared at the ceiling in the dim light. There were street lights on all night, so it was never really dark if your windows pointed the right way. Mine did. Good thing. I hated the dark.

Scott made fun of that, too, when he found out. I spent the night there once when I was like 6, and when he turned off the lights, I freaked. He never let me live it down, either. Scared of the dark, small dick, shortest kid, and now he had my new haircut to make fun of.

I touched my head.

“Why’d I let him do it?” I asked myself. “Not like I could stop him,” I said back, remembering the smack to my ass that was ‘just a sample’.

I shivered again. I had more punishment coming, I knew. The haircut was just because he told Mom I’d get one, and shorter since I tried to run.

Canyon’s butt had looked burned. Worse than my sunburn, which was healed.

Was he going to do that to me, if legally, he COULD?

Damn if my dick wasn’t getting hard again!

I played with it for a while, but the blanket under me rubbing my sore butt was annoying. I gave up and rolled over on my side, and my stomach looked huge. “Least he cooks food,” I was saying to myself, and I must have fell asleep wishing he’d come and tucked me in.

(Just to let you know, I know why I thought that now. I didn’t back then, though.)

Next thing I knew, I was waking up at like 2:30 with pains again.

I could hear Mom, snoring, passed out. I shut her door and ran to the bathroom, where I had another one of those gigantic dumps. All I could think was it was a shock to my system from the diet change. It took forever to get clean, and when I did, I was thirsty. I went and got a pop, sucked it down, and realized I was wide awake again.

Don’t you hate that?

I enjoyed the pop, though, after all that water he’d made us suck down all day. I guess Canyon wasn’t even allowed Tabb, with no sugar in it. I was still sore, so I got an aspirin.

I sat up for about an hour, with just the streetlights and Mrs. Smith’s cat. I had another pop. Apparently, I was grounded for 2 days. And so was Scott!

On impulse, I went and grabbed a pair of shorts and biked it down to Scott’s. Not a good idea, either. 1 aspirin wasn’t going to do it. There was a dim light coming from his window, seeing as how the jerk had his own 15” TV in his room – Christmas from Grandma. Hell, I didn’t have a Grandma. All I had was Mom.

‘You got…him…’ I found myself thinking, when I tapped on Scott’s window three times. It was the signal, you know. But why was I thinking about …my new neighbors?

“The fuck you doin’ out at 330?” Scott asked me.

“The fuck YOU doin’ up at 330?” I replied.

Scott laughed. “Dude, there is a righteous porno on cable! God, I wish I had a VCR!”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that the porno I’d just seen probably blew (haha!) his out of the water. I bet Scott had never seen 2 college boys do it!

Anyway, he gave me a hand up and I went through the window.

“So, has Mr. Rich got that missing black kid chained up in his basement?” Scott asked me.

“Funny, dickhead,” I playfully shoved him.

“So, you had dinner? Did you meet the sick kid?” He asked eagerly.

I gave him a quick rundown on Canyon, but left out the major details of my day with him. “I can tell ya one thing, buddy, that poor kid’s therapy sessions will kill ya! I still hurt!”

“So he’s about like Evan, then, 6 in the head?” Scott asked, “But he’s smart?”

I nodded. “He’s learning Spanish, too.”

“He sounds weird,” Scott dismissed it, more interested in the porno. I had admit, it wasn’t a bad one. I didn’t get real hard, though, which I didn’t understand. Scott accused me of having defective nuts. I punched him in his. He punched me back, and I double over.

CHRIST, it hurt! And he really didn’t hit me that hard!

That’s when he saw it.

“The FUCK happened to your hair???”

“It was a haircut, or an ass-blistering,” I told him, my face hot.

“I’d have taken the beating!” Scott gasped. “Dude, you look like GI Joe!”

“It’s cooler,” I said.

“I’ll sweat, thanks,” Scott shook his shaggy head, and went back to the movie.

OK, so he didn’t overreact?

When I was pretty much over the nut shot, and he was over my hair, I saw that he had his hand on the front of his shorts, and he was hard. OK, his dick wasn’t huge, not by a long shot. But it was at least twice as big as mine. It had to be 4” hard. He saw me looking.

“Dude, you REALLY need to see a doctor,” he told me. “You’re gonna be 13 this fall, and you don’t even have 1 hair? Can you even jerk off?”

I decided to say it.

“I…I got off once, this week, but it was dry.” I confessed.

Scott looked shocked.

“You mean you don’t shoot juice yet?” He asked, and I finally had his attention.

I just shook my head. “It felt real good though.”

“Well, DUH?!” He laughed. “That’s why you keep doing it!”

“It’s better with lotion, or something, you don’t get red,” I advised him.

“Never thought of that, Ben!” He grinned, “You might be onto something! How about sunscreen?” And he just happened to have a bottle.

“Dude, I don’t wanna watch you jack off!” I said, wrinkling my nose.

“Ben, it’s a porno, I’m hard, we’re guys, we’ve swum naked, so what?” He justified it. “It’s not like I wanna fuck you in the ass or something!” He grinned again. “You just don’t think you can do it, do you?”

“Can if I want!” I argued.

But could I?

Scott slid his briefs off. His dick was hard, all right, and throbbing as he squirted the SPF on it. It looked like cum. I felt mine getting hard then, and did the same. I’d been naked enough lately already, and it didn’t bother me a bit.

He had sparse black hair, and you could still see his skin through it. It was kinda like seeing an-almost-bald guy’s head. But he was getting some grown in, and I wasn’t. “I just measured it, and it’s right at 4”!” He said proudly.

“Must shrink in cold pool water,” I joked, as I looked at it and got even harder. Full size, 2”, and ready for once!

So we watched the TV and jacked off. Scott got off first, surprise surprise, and when he did, he made this stupid face and groaned and shot…and hit ME with it!

“Watch where you point that thing, asshole!” I told him. “Ewww! Gimme a Kleenix! Gross!”

By then, MY mood was gone. I was ‘standing down’. “Thanks for ruining it for me, dickhead,” I told him.

“We don’t have all night, Tiny,” He smirked at me.

“Up yours,” I said back.

“Yeah, but I’m not gay,” He told me, and sounded just like Mom had: ‘Maybe he’s gay?’ He sounded grossed out by it.

But I just realized something – I got hardest, stayed hard, and had got off once – with a boy doing it.

OK, Canyon said he wasn’t a really a boy anymore, since he had no balls.

Still…

What IF I am gay? I worried.

By then, Scott was yawning. I told him I had to stay with Mr. Poore for 2 weeks, and that if he didn’t hear from me every day, once at least, to call the cops.

“If you’re that scared of him, don’t go?” Scott suggested, “I mean, what did he do, ass-rape you, or something?”

“No,” I sighed, but I remembered that my butt always felt funny those days I’d napped there, like I had to poop, then couldn’t. But I was sure going lately! Besides, with that monster dick of his, he’d have split me in half! If that thing had been in me, I shivered, I’d’a been bleeding! “Scott, look,” I reminded him of my theory, and how things just didn’t add up or look right, “If I don’t call…”

“OK, OK,” He gave in, yawned, and rolled over.

Since he was asleep, I let myself out the window and rode home.

It was about 5AM when I got home and washed his cum off me.

I woke up around noon.

Mom was gone, and a note on the table said, “Sorry if I said anything last night. Mr. Poore got me tipsy! Be back soon, running to the gas, light, phone company! – Mom.”

Not “love, Mom.” Just “Mom.”

I sighed and got myself a bowl of cereal. I wondered what Canyon was having for lunch. I opened the patio glass door and listened, but I didn’t hear anything next door. “Be almost worth a spanking,” I muttered, listening to the quiet of my own big, empty home. Hell, I didn’t even have a dog or a fish.

“Tubing,” I muttered, and I went and got the piece I’d bought. I got Mr. Britannia out, and looked it up. I found it under “S” for “surgery”. They put this stuff in mainly to be a drain, to let fluids out, or sometimes to put fluids in. “The hell’s he doing, making mummies?” I wondered. Then, on impulse, I went back to “C”.

“Catheter”

“Holy shit!” I gasped, when I saw the illustration.

It was tube that went up your DICK to drain your piss into a bag!

“Ow, ow, ow!” I said, holding my hardening little dick and clenching my legs.

I didn’t realize how long I sat there looking shit up until Mom got back. Hell, it was 3PM!

“You didn’t leave the house?” She seemed surprised.

“I’m grounded,” I mumbled, sitting there in my room, reading my encyclopedia. She felt my forehead.

“Should I call a priest?” She asked.

“Mom,” I sighed, as she looked over my shoulder.

“Catholicism?”

“I was going for ‘cats’,” I lied.

“What’s this?” She then asked, holding up the shorts I’d dropped in the yard last night. “You taking up streaking?”

If only she knew!

“Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know if you’re mowing the grass in the nude,” She sighed, and got up.

“Mom?” I asked, not knowing why I did, “When am I gonna hit puberty?”

“Hopefully never!” She smiled at me, and it gave me chills.

Like someone was walking on your grave, the old saying is.

“First hair sprouts, and it all goes to hell,” Mom said dramatically. “Too bad boys aren’t like puppies. I’m beginning to think men should all be fixed at age 2!”

“Canyon was 9,” I let it slip. After all, she was on it again – men men men.

“What?”

“His accident. He lost his nuts,” I said. “Please don’t tell!” I added.

“And how do YOU know?”

“He…he told me, Mr. Poore thought I should know!”

It really wasn’t a lie. After all, Canyon invited me over and just showed me.

“Well, he’s better off,” Mom smiled, and patted my head. “None of those damn hormones, bothering girls, wanting to get in their pants, teenage pregnancies!”

“So it’s better to be gay?” I asked, honestly wanting to know. After all, if Mom was on about men and women, what did she think of men and men? “Or Lesbians?”

“WHERE did you hear that?” She gasped.

“Scott,” I said fast. When in doubt, blame Scott. After all, he did it to me.

“Homosexuality is NOT better,” she flinched. “Although you don’t get anyone pregnant, do you?” She laughed. “If you’re gay, Benny, just don’t tell me, OK?” And with that, she left my room.

I sighed. I sighed a lot back then.

I dropped the book and got out “H”. There wasn’t shit on “homosexual,” but Lesbians came from somewhere in Greece called “Lesbos”. That was nice to know.

Being grounded sucked.

Stuck in my room, no TV, couldn’t go anywhere, and just that dumb DJ on the radio for company. I dunno what Mom was doing and I didn’t care. I laid down on my bed, and drifted off. “Canyon’s havin’ a nap,” I was saying to no one but the walls.

Mom woke me up around 6, which I thought was about right. She’d made a frozen pizza, and sorta burnt it. It was crunchy. It took a lot of water to wash it down, since we were out of pop and I couldn’t go to The Shack to get more. It made me think of Canyon again.

What VCR tape was he watching? Spanish Conquistadors again? Aztec sacrifices? Mom had the TV on, so I just sat and watched what she did. I took a bath around 9, tried to jack off, failed, and just went to bed naked.

I slept all night, and woke up Sunday morning – but I wasn’t hard. Mom made me mow the grass again, and it didn’t need it. Then it was trim, and prune the dumb bush. I was still kinda sore, and mowing made it worse. I just wanted to hack that bush to bits! Then we washed the car. TV dinner for lunch. I hate Salisbury steak to this day. We washed the car around 2, and I could hear Canyon splashing around. I looked up, and saw the van pulling out.

OK, not that weird. Canyon will stay on schedule, I knew. He’d dive and swim until 4, then have his shake and take a nap. I wondered if he had to mow? I was putting the hose up when I got my answer:

“Benny!” Canyon was yelling over through the fence, “Are you out? Father wanted me to give you this letter!” A paper airplane came sailing over the fence:

“Hell, go work for a living!” Mom just laughed, so off I went.

The gate was unlocked.

I had on dirty, wet red shorts and ‘work tennies’, holes and all, but Canyon was standing there naked in all his cawh-STRAY-ted glory. He almost tackled me, and kissed me on the mouth. I got hard at once. He laughed.

“Canyon, what’s a ‘fiver’?” I asked him.

“Five dollars!” He smiled at me, taking my hand. “I’m not allowed to mow, you see. Father is afraid I’ll hurt myself, but he says you seem to know how to do it well?”

I rolled my eyes.

He led me into the garage, which I hadn’t seen before.

I stopped.

Sitting there, when he hit the lights, was a shining red Ferrari! I damn near pissed my pants!

“Ah, the mower,” Canyon said, and he presented me with this manual, rolling-cage-dinosaur of a push-mower. “It’s all oiled and ready.”

“Then what do you use gas for?” I asked.

“Weed whacker!” He laughed. “Oh, and Father said wear these!” He then held up a pair of heavy, steel-toed boots. They were about my size, too. And new. I smelled a rat. “I have to get wet now,” Canyon excused himself, giving me another hug, “Or my necklace will shrink in the sun!” He reminded me.

“MOM! This is gonna take some time,” I yelled over the fence. “Old fashioned mower!”

“It’s good for you!” She yelled back.

I sighed again.

After one strip down the lawn, I was melting. It was at least 95F and humid, and the mower was clumsy. Canyon was just paddling away, waving at me now and then, and looking sad. I motioned him over once and let him push the silly thing for about 10 feet.

“This bloody well sucks arse!” He declared, pointed at his collar, and got back in the water.

(Yes, I was thinking of it as a collar by then.)

That was when I realized it: If Mr. Poore left, Canyon had to stay wet, in the pool, or he’d choke to death! That was why he called me over – so he wasn’t swimming alone. I felt good about that, though.

I was thinking about Scott and how he just ignored his little brother, Evan, and it didn’t make sense to me. 1 inch wasn’t much, but Canyon already seemed like the little brother I didn’t have. I got to thinking what if something happened to him? How would I feel? I was pushing away, my legs aching, my back screaming, when I started to cry.

What the HELL?!

What was wrong with me? Boys didn’t start crying for no good reason?

Canyon was brining me a quart jar of ice water, but when he saw me, he sat it down. He started in at once, looking me over, “Are you hurt, Benny?” I just hugged him. “It’s OK, Benny, honestly,” he kept telling me. I sat down and drank my water. I couldn’t say why I was crying, just that I stopped all at once. I had to pee, too.

“No peeing until at least 6,” Canyon reminded me. I had to laugh. He was so devoted to his routine.

And for good reason.

His butt was pink again, and it wasn’t sunburn. It didn’t match the rest of him.

“Did you get spanked?” I had to ask.

“Yes, Benny,” He smiled at me. “But I needed it. I was bad.”

“What did you DO?” I had to ask.

“I…I wouldn’t be quiet when Father said to ‘hush’. I was…begging him to go and fetch you, Benny!” He gave me that face again.

I didn’t know what to say. My damn dick was throbbing, so much it hurt. I had to pee so bad…

Then Canyon was tugging my shorts down. I didn’t stop him. He pulled them off over my boots, got the bottle of SPF, and started jacking me off again.

I stayed hard, as his little soft hand worked my 2 inches, and in a couple of minutes, I was in heaven again. It was just like the last time, my hips bucking, me fucking his hand. I was panting, laying there in the grass when he was done. “Holy shit,” I groaned. “Why can’t I do this alone?”

“I dunno,” Canyon shrugged, “But my necklace is tight! You best finish, it’s almost 4, you know!” And he went right back to the pool.

I got the yard done, without peeing all over myself, but it hurt. My nuts were sagging and aching too, but the heat did make it look bigger! Those boots were killing my legs, though.

At 4, I was done. Just.

Canyon brought me an iced protein shake, and I sucked it down so fast I got a headache. I sat down and moaned.

“You silly prat!” He laughed, and turned the hose on me!

God, it felt good. I pulled the boots off, he threw me a towel, then went and got a $5 bill for me. (Hey, back then, that was high pay for a small yard!)

“I have to go and nap now. I’d have you come in,” he said sadly, “But I know your mum has grounded you. Best go home, mate.” He then hugged me again and put the boots up. I checked out the car one more time. It was awesome! Where’d he get the money for it? I was distracted by Canyon giggling.

“Your bollocks are hanging!” He laughed. I looked down. They were, and they ached. But being jacked off was worth it. I told him so.

“You know, Benny,” he said over his shoulder on the way in, “I bet if you asked my physician, really nice, he’d cut those off for you! You’ll feel ever so much better once they’re out!”

“Riiiiiight,” I just gaped at him. I grabbed up my shoes and went back to the gate. “See ya!” I called back. He waved from the door, then he was gone. The gate was still unlocked, but it locked behind me!

“BENJAMIN!” Mom yelled at me.

I was standing there holding my shoes, stark naked!

“You went for swim, didn’t you?” She accused me.

I nodded. “The grass is cut?” I offered.

“Silly boy! Get inside, before you give Mrs. Smith a coronary!”

I took my $5 and went inside. My ‘fiver.’ I was dripping when I got to the bathroom to pee, too, almost didn’t make it!

When I got up to my room, it was just past 4. I fell over for a nap, the fan blowing on my damp skin and feeling so good.

I had dreams about Canyon jacking me off, and when I woke up around 615, I was humping the mattress! Nothing came out, though, and it didn’t feel nearly as good. It just made me hurt again.

“If you asked my physician,” he’d said…HOLY SHIT! Did he really think a doctor would just castrate me if asked?

Without realizing it, even though he was gone, Mr. Poore had me on “the schedule.” Canyon said it, “shed-jew-ul.” I thought about that when I went downstairs. I hadn’t even peed when I had to; I held it. Hell, Mr. Poore would probably have found that out, too. I was beginning to think the house was bugged, like a spy movie, or he had hidden cameras. But at The Shack? Nahhh…

Mom suggested I get a bath, clean clothes, and since the car had AC, we were going out for dinner. Burgers and fries. Joy. That was pretty much it for Sunday night. Some movie I don’t remember, in the stuffy house with fans going, and then I went bed.

I got shaken awake the next morning by Mom, and yelled that I was laying there naked! She didn’t seem impressed. She made me take ANOTHER bath, and had me put on the best school clothes I had left. A couple donuts, and breakfast was done.

“You look like a big M’n’M,” She told me, taking in my neon green shirt and white athletic shorts – with an “M” on the leg from school. She threw a dishrag at me. “Clean those shoes! Good God, we’re late!” She gasped, as she grabbed a bag. “Get that!” She pointed at a suitcase. I did that. It weighed a ton! What was she taking, lead bricks?

Mr. Poore was out front. He honked once.

“Shit,” I thought, “Scheduling!”

We dashed out to the van.

I was surprised to see Canyon belted in the back bench seat, wearing a plain white T and white gym shorts with brown sandals.

OK, sandals hadn’t caught on yet, but in a few years, they’d be HUGE! Boys still seem to like them, too.

He had a shake, and one for me, too.

“Benny!” He crowed in delight. “You look like a large citrus!” He leaned over. “I asked Father about making you an appointment with my physician this week. He’s going to make a house call on Thursday!” Canyon just smiled at me, nodding.

I stared at him.

“Seriously?” I gasped. Was he fucking joking? With Canyon, you could NOT tell!

“Seriously, Benny,” Mr. Poore said, as we sped off. I let it go.

At some point in time, Mr. Poore must have been in Indy car driver, but then again, he did own a Ferrari. It was a wild ride; thank God for seat belts! Mom was as green as my shirt when we got there. She was out the door, some teenager grabbed her bags, and she yelled back her thanks.

Then she was gone.

“Bye, mom,” I sighed.

I looked at Mr. Poore watching me in the rear view mirror.

“I’m sorry she was late, sir,” I offered. “She usually is.”

“No offense taken, Benny,” he smiled at me. “Rude of her, though? Not even a kiss goodbye, and for 2 weeks?”

“Yeah, tha’s mom,” I shook my head.

“Thank you for doing such an excellent job on the yard, too,” He told me. “Are you saving your fiver?”

“Yes, sir,” I mumbled.

“Always speak up, like you have a pair, even if you don’t,” Mr. Poore said, and Canyon busted out laughing. He laughed until he was hiccupping. Mr. Poore got to laughing too, and it was contagious.

“Sir?”

“yes?”

“About the doctor?” I finally had to ask.

“Oh, he’s coming over, yes, but he just doesn’t chop off boys’ balls at the drop of a ham sandwich, now does he?” Mr. Poore grinned.

“I don’t know, sir, does he?” I asked, and I was REALLY asking.

My dick was hard, too, but the loose shorts hid it.

“Benny,” he said seriously, as we stopped at a red light, “Do you really want to be castrated? Do you know what it will do to your development as a man? What it will mean in adult life, if you do not seek professional medical care to develop into a man-proper?”

“No, sir, just that you can’t make babies, or get hard, or ‘do it’ with a girl, I read it,” I told him.

“There’s more to it than, that, son,” He said, and I shivered again. That shiver. Someone was walking over…

He said “son”.

Legally, I was his son for 2 weeks.

He had the legal right to get me professional medical care.

I felt sick.

Canyon took my hand. He couldn’t reach me for the seal belt, to kiss me, but I knew he wanted to. He just squeezed my hand and smiled. I leaned up a bit to look out, but Canyon didn’t.

“Sir,” I wanted to change the subject, “Where are we going? This isn’t scheduled?” I had to ask.

“Oh, smashing, Benny!” Mr. Poore smiled in the mirror at me, “No, it’s not! But Canyon hasn’t had a field trip in months, not since we moved in. He’s never been to this mall before, and they have AC. Which reminds me, when we get home, we MUST double check your house!”

“Father, might we go to the music store, please?” Canyon asked. “I do so want the new album by ‘Ahh-zee-ahh,” he pronounced it, “Or perhaps ‘Yes’?”

“One or the other, son,” Mr. Poor smiled. “And Benny, there’s a lesson in this field trip for you, too, son!”

He said ‘son’ again.

When we parked, Mr. Poore came back and undid our seat belts. Then, to my surprise, he got behind Canyon’s seat and I saw him unlock a box on the back of it. Canyon leaned forward, and his necklace came off. It had been locked to a heavy strap through the seat, to hold him in! I could see the tanline. Very stark in contrast.

Then he told me to hold still.

He pulled out a pair of ‘cat-claw scissors’, and carefully cut off my woven necklace in one snip. It fell in my lap, and I just looked at it.

I could see my tanline in the mirror. Patterned. Like Asian letters. I wondered what they said?

“Lesson #1,” Mr. Poore said, as he ushered us out.

And even though I was fully clothed, as I touched my neck and my closely-cropped hair, I felt naked.