The Room (Chapters 1-4)

Chapter 1

My name is Jason. I know that someone will attempt to draw a parallel between me and the character in the horror movie, “Friday the 13th,” but I hope by the end of my story you realize that I’m not evil, I was just born during the wrong era. As Shakespeare said, “There is nothing good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” If I had lived during the time of the ancient Greeks, there would have been nothing unusual about my sexual predilection. I’ve had sex with many women, been married and even fathered children. I’ve also had sex with men and boys. Once there was even a 15 year-old girl. There have been times when I was exclusively heterosexual, times when I was in a monogamous gay relationship, and times when I have sex with a male one day and a female the next. I actually think that bisexuality is the norm, that being exclusively heterosexual or homosexual is the aberration.

Our society, however, is only now beginning to somewhat accept gays, and they don’t really accept them, they “pretend” to be tolerant of them. If I had just wanted gay relationships, there wouldn’t have been any problem. I could have maintained that kind of relationship either in or out of the closet. As I’ve gotten older, however, I find that I’m not that attracted to adult men, and I’m certainly not attracted to women my age. I’m physically turned on by attractive young women, but turned off by their snotty attitudes. What really turns me on is pubescent boys. Boys, especially those twelve to fourteen, still have features with the soft contours of their youth, but their cocks are fully grown and almost always hard. Talking to them, playing games with them, relating to them as one male to another is also fun.

Whereas society may have become more lenient toward gays during my lifetime, it has become much harsher in its treatment of adults that have sex with minors. Just fondling a teenager could result in prison time and the life long stigma of being the sexual predator of a child. Because of that, I usually refrained from any actual sexual contact with boys, although I constantly put myself in positions where I would have an excuse to be around them as a scout leader, coach, or “Big Brother.” There were some lapses, though. There were times on a camp out that I couldn’t resist reaching over an grabbing hold of the already hard cock of a sleeping kid. Luckily they never woke up enough to realize what had happened.

There was an occurrence with one boy, though, that both excited and frightened me. He was a neighbor kid. I and my roommates knew, and partied with his parents. He was a wild kid, smoked pot, and stole things, but he used to come over to our house all the time. We would play video games or cards. He loved to play poker. He and I took a trip once to help move his sister from a different state to back home. We stopped one night at a motel. I had taken some drugs, and so had he. As we lay in bed together I reached over and put my hand on his cock. When I touched it I felt the wetness of his cum. I unzipped his jeans and pulled them off. Then I pulled off his tee shirt. I kissed him, ramming my tongue in his mouth. I kissed the tits on his smooth chest and worked my way down toward his hard cock. It wasn’t that big, probably only about 4 1/2 inches, but it was hard. As soon as I put my mouth around it I felt his hot, salty, cum shoot into my mouth. This kid stayed hard, or would become hard again with little effort on my part. Again and again he shot his load into my mouth. At least ten times I swallowed his cum before he said that he had enough.

When we got to his sister’s house, we slept together one night. Again I reached over and found his cock wet and sticky from his cum. Again I pulled his pants off, kissed him, and worked my way down to his cock. Again he shot his wad into my mouth. This time, after I swallowed one more load, he became angry and left the bed. We left the next day driving back home with his sister.

After we’d been home for awhile, he made threats that he would tell someone about what happened between us and extorted some money from me. I decided that it was time for me to leave, so I left town. I didn’t want anyone to have as much power over me as he had. The pleasure of sucking his little cock, or swallowing his cum wasn’t worth giving anyone that much power.

I later spent some time in the Philippines. I met a street kid and eventually moved his mother, brother and him into a house. I didn’t originally intend to have sex with him, but the first night he crawled on top of me and rammed his tongue down my throat. He reached down and grabbed hold of my cock and jerked me off. He was twelve, but pre-pubescent. His little cock got hard, and when I sucked on it; he would climax. He never ejaculated, but his body would get rigid and then he would shiver all over. I visited the Philippines often during the next year on business and let them live in a house that I had rented. My time in the Philippines eventually ended. Although I had enjoyed my relationship with this kid, it wasn’t completely satisfying. I longed to taste the hot cum of a kid. This one wasn’t old enough to cum.

The United States eventually ruined even this outlet for my sexual proclivities. They passed a law making it a crime to travel overseas for the purpose of having sex with a child. I had to come up with a safe way to have boy of my own, one I could love, one I could own. I needed a boy that could never betray me, that would never leave, that would never tell anyone of our relationship. I longed to taste his hot cum in my mouth.

Chapter 2

I had been a construction engineer, had always made good money, and had invested it wisely. I bought some property in Idaho. It was very secluded. My electricity was supplied by a combination of wind and back up gas generators. I used solar power as much as possible. My house was different, also. It was built mostly underground, both because it was easier to heat and cool, and for privacy. I had to haul my own propane to the property. No one lived within miles of me.

Much of my house was constructed by various contractors, but I had them leave part of it unfinished. I had used several different ones so that none would realize that part of the job was being left unfinished. I would fire them on one pretext or another. Finishing the house took me almost six months working on it by myself. I constructed a room, a hidden, underground room. I was proud of my handiwork. It was undetectable, and soundproofed. I had a control room built into it. I actually entered the secret room by first going into the control room. In there I could control the lights, heat, television, and every other feature of the environment of the room. There were television monitors in the control room that connected to hidden cameras in the room. Every inch of the room was covered by these cameras. There was no way hide from them. There was a toilet, shower and sink in the room, but they were in plain sight, and there was no shower curtain. There was a bed, but no covers. I could control the temperature accurately enough that there was no need of them. There was a large screen HDTV built into one was of the room, but it was only hooked to VCR and DVD machines. I didn’t have it hooked to the satellite system that fed the rest of the house. The TV and lights were accessible from a service tunnel and were behind unbreakable glass. There was no way of reaching, or controlling either from the room. There were video game console controller inputs below the TV. The door to the room could only be unlocked from the inside by knowing the right combination. Entering the wrong combination would sound an alarm and lock out the box for a period of time. Entering three wrong combinations in a row would lock out the box for 24 hours. The combination box could be totally disabled from the control room.

Finally, the room was ready! Now, to find a occupant for it.

Chapter 3

I got into my motor home and drove several hundred miles to another state. I won’t say what city, or even what state, because I don’t want anyone to connect this story to any particular boy. There was a park there that I had checked out before. There was a creek there where boys like to come hunt crawdads and frogs. I had purchased a car from a private party in the town, paying cash, and using a false name and address. I also wore a disguise. I parked down by the creek and waited until a boy came down there by himself. Boys of the desired age are usually the ones that like to hunt crawdads.

I had to wait several days until I found one that I found particularly attractive and that was alone. I had a tranquilizer gun because I didn’t want him to see me yet. I sneaked through the woods toward the creek. He had a little net in his hand and was scooping out a crawdad. I must have stepped on a twig because he turned toward me. As he turned, I fired the dart. The dart struck him in the chest right below the his collarbone. He gasped, looked down at the dart, reached to pull it out, but was unconscious by the time his hand found the dart. He fell forward, face first into the creek. I had to hurry down to prevent him from drowning. I picked him up and carried him to the bank. I lay him on his back and gave him mouth to mouth, both to make sure he was breathing, and to taste his sweet mouth. When I was sure he was breathing OK I carried him to the car and put him in the trunk. I had tested the tranquilizer and knew that he would be out for several hours. I drove to the motor home, and, with the boy wrapped in a blanket, carried him inside. I parked the car in an area where there were several abandoned cars.

The motor home was all gassed up, and since I had an extra gas tank installed, I was able to drive all the way home without stopping. I did have to pull over at a rest stop to give the kid another shot to make sure he wouldn’t wake up before we got there. I checked his breathing, pulse, and blood pressure to make sure he was OK. I couldn’t resist pulling down his pants to check that part of him out. He had hair! Because of the drug, he was flaccid, but it looked like he would have a fair sized cock when hard.

Chapter 4

The trip home took about twelve hours. Although I had been awake for almost twenty four hours, I was too excited to be tired. I carried him from the motor home into the house. He felt like he weighed about 80-90 pounds and was about five feet tall. I figured he was twelve or thirteen years old. I carried him through the house, through the secret door, the control room into the room. There I laid him on the bed. He was still unconscious. I pulled his tee shirt over his head and kissed him on the mouth as I did. Then I untied his sneakers, pulled them and his socks off, and then pulled his pants down. The drug must have been wearing off some, because he now had a hard on. He had a nice size cock, at least six and one half inches, maybe even a little longer than mine. When I saw it, my cock became harder than it had been for a long time. I peeled off my clothes and climbed on the bed with him. I lay on top of him, but without putting all my weight on him. I kissed his eyes, face and mouth. I worked my way down toward his cock making frequent stops with my mouth along the way. Eventually my mouth found his cock. It was delicious! I licked it, sucked his balls into my mouth one at a time, and tongued his sweet hole. I came back to his cock, first just taking just the head into my mouth, but then, swallowed it all until my nose rested in his pubic hair. He had dark brown pubic hair. The top, toward his navel, wasn’t straight across, but formed a “V” that pointed down toward his cock. The hair on his balls was short, but curly. I reached around and grasped his tight buttocks, one in each hand, and used that grip to thrust his dick back and forth in my mouth. It wasn’t long until I felt his hot cum gush down my throat. It excited me so much that I almost climaxed myself. I loved the taste of it. Nothing quite has the taste of boy cum. I climbed on top of him until my dick was on top of his now, flaccid, but wet, sticky, cock. I rubbed my cock back and forth over his, feeling him become hard again. It wasn’t long until we both came. He moaned in his sleep, but never woke up.

I washed him off, picked up all the clothes, and left him naked on the bed. There was a little night light by the toilet so he could find it, but no other light in the room. By this time, I was pretty tired myself. I had been awake more than thirty hours by this time, so I went to my own bed. I wanted to crawl in bed with him, but he would have associated the fear of what had happened to him, of waking up in a strange place, with me, especially if he woke up next to a naked man. That didn’t suit my plan. I intended to make him want my company, to beg for my attention, whether it be sexual or otherwise.

The next morning when I awoke, I rushed to the control room. With the lights down so low, I couldn’t see him well at all, so I turned up the rheostat, gradually bringing up the level of the light in the room. He was awake now, He cried out, his hands went down to cover his genitals, and he began crying even harder than he had when I first entered the control room. Tears were flowing down his cheeks. I didn’t say anything, but left the lights up, and went to the kitchen to make breakfast for both of us.

I brought our breakfasts back to the control room. I wanted to eat mine where I could watch him. I was as hungry for the sight of his naked body as I was for food. There was a panel in the wall where I could pass his food through to him without his seeing me or anything in the control room. I placed everything on paper plates and didn’t provide him with any utensils, not even a plastic spoon. I didn’t want to take the chance of his having anything with which to harm himself. I didn’t say anything, but I the TV also was a computer monitor, so I typed so he could see, “When you’re through eating, place your plate back into the wall receptacle. You won’t get anymore food until you do.”

He started screaming, “I want to go home! I want my Mom! Please let me go!”

Over and over, he screamed, “Let me go home, I want my Mom.”

It broke my heart, but I knew that I had to be strong. I decided that I’d take my breakfast to the other room, until he calmed down some. I couldn’t enjoy my breakfast while he wailed about wanting his mother.

He eventually calmed down some. On my third trip to the control room to check on him, he had picked up the food. It was on his bed and he had eaten most of it. He was a growing boy, after all. He was no longer screaming, there were still tears on his cheeks and he was whimpering. I watched him for awhile, tears coming to my eyes while I did. I didn’t say anything to him, nor did I type anything on the TV screen. Since it was afternoon before he ate his breakfast, I didn’t bring him anything when I fixed my lunch. By supper time, he was hungry again, and came over to pick up his food as soon as I pushed it through. I had to remind him on the screen to put his dirty dishes in the receptacle, but he did it soon after I had typed it. I didn’t want him to hear my voice yet, not until he craved, was desperate for human contact. You see, I was to become his reward for desired behavior, that being to want me, to love me.

Although he still cried himself to sleep each night, he no longer screamed or cried that much during the day. Whenever he had been particularly quiet, I provided some treat such as ice cream or another dessert with his meal. After a few days, I spoke to him. “Hi, I said.” He started screaming again, “I want to go home! I want my Mom!” I turned off the mike. I didn’t say anything for two days. The next time I opened the mike and said “Hi” his face actually lit up with anticipation, but then he started questioning me, “Why am I here? Why can’t I go home?” This time I told him, “I can’t talk to you if you ask questions. I’ll try again tomorrow. If you don’t ask any questions, maybe we can talk longer.”

cont. in chapter 5