NONE ENTERED BY AUTHOR
A - H I - P Q - Z Newest Files
First Boy by Ganymede Chapter Nine. Dinner with a hundred wealthy Democrats consisted of surf and turf, a barely edible but generous portion of salmon and a slab of bloodied meat. I picked at the food, concentrating on the conversation around me, trying to remember who was who, and which one might be someone worth knowing in the future. All of the guests had paid a thousand dollars for a seat at the table and a chance to shake the President's hand. After the plates were cleared, Shelley and Alexis headed off to play video games in the second floor study. It was nearly eleven o'clock when I set out to find Jack Seidelman. He was not averse to getting down to business, although there were still a few guests hanging around. What was discussed was couched in terms that anyone overhearing would have no idea of the real nature of our agreement. "Well," Seidelman asked, "Have you had a chance to talk with him about the arrangement?" "We talked. He's willing," I replied. Seidelman nodded slowly. "That's good. You know, Bob, it'll be very good for you in the long run if this lasts." "Lasts?" "Once is seldom enough in these situations. It takes time to get his attention." "How long?" "It depends on what you want, Bob." "I want help with the foreign competition. Some very aggressive enforcement of trade violations would be nice. I want the dumping to stop. I also want to take over their imports as soon as it arrives at the border." "I'm sure that can be arranged, if you can help with locations." "I can do that. There's one more thing. I want assistance getting my own imports into the country." "That's harder to arrange." "I'm prepared to increase the donation to a million dollars every year." "It's not just a matter of money." I smiled slightly. "A million dollars a year plus visitation rights." Seidelman laughed. "Visitation rights. That's one way of putting it. You'll get your money's worth. What you asked for is one thing. What we can do for you over the next few years is the icing on the cake." "I assume he'll be safe?" "Safe? Oh, I understand. I was going to ask you the same question." Seidelman reflected for a moment. "Not that it matters. From what Alexis and Roger tell me, there's always latex involved. It's a intelligent decision considering the dangers." "I'm not surprised," I answered. "What are the plans for tonight?" Seidelman glanced around. Without saying a word he took my elbow and guided me towards the French windows and away from the half dozen other guests on the terrace. "He'll start out sleeping in the guest bedroom with Alexis. He's playing computer games there right now so he'll know where he has to go. I'll have the room next door. I'll come to get him when the time is right. Make sure he baths properly and his teeth are clean. There will be an enema bag and tube in the vanity. Have him cleaned out so there's no chance of an accident." Seidelman released my elbow. He smiled innocently. "You know the money is unimportant if your boy does what he wants. He's an absolute doll." "What about Alexis?" "So you figured that out. Alexis is getting too old. He's been shaving his crotch the last few months. For a while he was on a treatment program using some stuff we've managed to get from the National Institute of Child Health. He was taking pills for the last two years. It worked great but his dick and balls have shrunk," Seidelman chuckled. "And now you're looking for a younger boy to replace him?" I prompted. "Yes. Your Shelley is ideal," Seidelman answered. "The President likes him, Bob. He likes him a lot. If the kid makes out okay in bed, he'll be the one. Assuming of course, you'll agree." I nodded slowly, trying to appear thoughtful. "I know Shelley's got a thing for older guys. He's been screwing around with one of my men for a few months now. So far, he doesn't know that I know what's going on between him and Robbie. If he's going to let a man fuck his ass I'd rather it was the President than some forty-grand-a-year bodyguard." "I'll see you tomorrow morning," Seidelman said as he turned away. I left immediately, taking the grand stair to the second floor. I passed four or five doors. The second door opened into the room where the President would be staying. There were three grey-suited agents inspecting every nook and cranny. Another agent waved a black metal wand over the furniture to detect bugs. I smiled to myself and continued on my way. It was very unlikely that they would perform a similar search on an already naked boy going to the President's room in the middle of the night. It was cause for another sigh of relief. Shelley was losing in the Cool-Boarders game that he was playing with Alexis. However, he was not that far behind that he could not catch up. I stood in the doorway and watched the two boys leaning over their controls, rocking to and fro as if the effort could somehow keep their player from slamming into the obstacles. Slowly Alexis pulled further ahead, and while Shelley gave it his best effort, he was unable to close the gap. It was interesting to watch as they hurtled down the white twisting slopes. Shelley threw caution to the wind, taking more risk than the other boy. Twice he lost control and ended up in the conifers. It was an interesting character trait. He had nothing to lose so he gave it all that he had. I grinned, feeling the immense pride that a father feels when his son surprises him with an extraordinary skill. Finally, his player waiting behind the finish line, Alexis rolled onto his back laughing as Shelley threw down his controller. "Now you owe me a thousand bucks," Alexis laughed. "You want to play again?" "No way," I interrupted. "He can't afford it and neither can I." Shelley spun around, grinning from ear to ear. "I almost had him. At the start he cheats." "Well, cheaters never prosper," I repeated the old adage. "And ten-year-old boys need to have a bath and get ready for bed." "I'm sleeping with Alexis," Shelley informed me. I shrugged. "I know. It's your choice. Come on. You need to get cleaned up." Shelley followed me out of the room and down the hall. A sideways glance showed the four agents still examining the bedroom I had just passed. Once inside the bedroom where I was to spend the night alone, I closed and locked the door behind us. Shelley stepped forward, his arms lifting up as his eyes closed. His lips met mine. We kissed, gently at first and then with increasing urgency as our passion began to mount. A week apart was a long time. I needed to be inside him, to feel his taut rectum squeezing against my penis, to absorb his vibrant heat. The last thing I wanted was to send him to another man's bed. Shelley hugged me, kissed my cheek, my chin, my forehead. He slurped over my lips, stuck his tongue out so I could suck it, pushed his immature sex hard into my thigh and ground against me until I had to pry him away. "I don't want to," he whispered. "Not with him. Not with anyone else except you." "I know, lover boy. That's what it's like when you're in love." "Do I have to?" I nodded slightly. "If we do this, it means we'll be able to live together from now on. That's the only reason why we're doing it. One time is worth it, Shelley. I want to be able to call you 'son', and wake up in the morning and have your dick jabbing against my stomach." "And I won't have to go back to her?" "Never! You won't see her, or Robbie, or Calvin ever again. it'll always be just the two of us." "And Maria! Promise?" "Promise!" Shelley sighed. "Okay." I smiled reassuringly. "Okay. You need to get in the bath tub and wash everything and everywhere. I'll come in a few minutes and do your hair. Have you ever had an enema?" Shelley paled. His lips pressed together. He clenched his hands. He nodded. It was obvious that it had been a very unpleasant experience for him. "What happened?" I asked. "She gave me one." "Julia?" "Yes. Do I have to have one." "Yes, I'm afraid so. Why did she give you an enema?" "After Robbie,..." "After Robbie had sex with you?" I prompted. Shelley looked down, ashamed and reluctant. I reached out and lovingly stroked the back of his head, curling my fingers in his silky hair and scratching behind his ears. Eventually he answered. "I couldn't go for a week after the first time,... you know to the bathroom, Rick. It was really painful when I tried. I guess he hurt me inside or something. There was blood and stuff coming out of me for a while afterwards. It hurt so bad that I couldn't sit down without feeling terrible." I seethed with anger. Julia had known what her son was doing to Shelley and made no effort to intervene or protect the little boy who had been placed in her care, albeit temporarily. There was no love, just animal lust. "So she gave you an enema?" I asked. Shelley nodded slightly. "It was gross, Rick. It really was. I couldn't help it. It came out all over the floor, and she slapped me and made me clean it up. I nearly puked it smelled so bad." I pulled him against me and his head burrowed into my chest. I stroked his back, reaching down to the start of his buttocks before going up again. "It'll be different this time." "Why do I have to?" "Because he wants you to be clean back there, I expect." "Does he have to put his cock in me there. I could suck him," Shelley volunteered. "Wouldn't that be enough?" "Maybe. I don't know what will happen. Maybe you can get him to cum and he won't want anything else. He was pretty drunk when I saw him a while ago. Maybe he'll be happy just to get off in your mouth. Hell, maybe he can't get an erection." "I'll do whatever I have to so I can live with you," Shelley said softly. "I'll call you when I'm ready for my hair to be washed." He broke away, not distraught, but not eager. He was stoic in his acceptance. Some things had to be done no matter how much you did not want to do them. He was a lot like me. I watched him disappear into the bathroom. It was all I could do not to follow him, if only to watch him undress. It was nearly 11.30 p.m. when I opened the door again. Shelley was dressed in a blue and yellow track-suit. Around his neck was a gold chain. He was clean and fresh and his hair smelled of apples. He was nervous, but he was also courageous. He smiled at me, returning my loving squeeze of his right hand with one of his own. He walked down the hall and stopped outside the room he was supposed to be sharing with Alexis. He waved erratically and reached for the door handle. A moment water he was gone from my sight. Further down the hall, two black Secret Service agents stood guard outside the President's room. One gave a quick glance in my direction. I tensed and abruptly closed the door to my room. My stomach churned as walked slowly across the seat in front of the window. I sat down, picked up the Walkman, slipped the headphones over my ears, and began to listen. I expected nothing much would happen until after midnight and I was not wrong. It was shortly after midnight when the boys' chatter stopped. They had talked about a lot of things in half and hour, none of them sex. Suddenly the silence was broken. Alexis: "Okay, you better get ready. He'll come for you a few minutes." Shelley: "Who'll come?" Alexis: "Jack. What do you have underneath those sweat pants?" Shelley: "Boxers." Alexis: "Take them off." Shelley: "Why?" Alexis: "Because I said so. Because he doesn't like you to wear anything underneath." Shelley: "What should I wear then?" Alexis: "Nothing. No one will see you." Shelley: "Are you sure?" Alexis: "Just do it. You have a nice body. There's nothing to be ashamed off." Shelley: "Now what?" Alexis: "I said take everything off." Shelley: "Okay." Alexis: "That's better. Here, put this on." Shelley: "What's that?" Alexis: "It's a necklace, you dummy! Have fun, kid. Don't be scared. His dick isn't all that big." Jack: "Hi boys." Shelley: "Hi Mr. Seidelman." Alexis: "He's cute." Jack: "So?" Alexis: "He's going to fuck the crap outta you." Jack: "Come with me Shelley. He's waiting." There was a loud click, the sound of another door opening, and then another door. There had to be connecting doors between the three rooms. I had a good idea of what would happen later in the night. I sat forward, breathing heavily, listening despite the unsettling fear in my stomach. President: "Come get him at six." Jack: "Sure. Anything else?" President: "You tell me." Jack: "There's a box of rubbers and some K-Y in the drawer." President: "That's all I needed to know. How's Alexis taking it? being replaced?" Jack: "He'll get over it, I'm sure." President: "He's not as smart as his brother, Jack. I'm worried about him." Jack: "He knows to keep his mouth shut." President: "The last thing I need is for this to get out." Jack: "Not wrong. He'll keep quiet about it." President: "I want you to arrange a special present for him. Something Roger will be surprised by. Your friends can find the right gift, I'm sure." Jack: "I'll pass the word along." President: "Good night Jack." Jack: "Good night Mr. President." I heard the sound of the door closing. Shelley was alone with the President. I turned the volume up. The sound of Shelley's heart was suddenly comforting. It seemed to be beating very quickly. I heard a rustling sound and took it to be from his arms rubbing against the bare skin of his chest. He was cold. He was frightened. I swallowed. I hated myself, hated how I had placed the boy I loved in such a position, promised myself that I would never hurt him again, that I would spend the rest of my life making it up to him. President: "My you're a beautiful boy, Shelley. Don't be embarassed. I've seen lots of little boy dicks before, and I hear at least two other men have seen you naked before me. I've been waiting all night. That's better." I heard the distinct sounds of clothes being removed, dropping to the floor, footsteps. I resisted my urge to get up and run down the hall. Deliberately I pushed the record button. President: "Now we're both naked aren't we. Do you like my cock? You're a very lucky boy. They're aren't many boys who can say they've seen the most powerful cock in the world. It is, you know. It may not be that big, but it's powerful." Shelley: "Yes sir." President: "Yes sir? That's good, boy. Do you like men's cocks?" Shelley: "Yes sir." President: "Do you like my cock?" Shelley: "Yes sir." President: "Would you like to hold it? Of course you would. Take it in your hand." Shelley: "It's hot." President: "So are you! You're so fucking beautiful. That's right, rub it boy. Rub it nice and slowly. That's how I like it, with you hand around it. Up and down." I heard him grunt, shuffling footsteps. The sudden intake of breath left no doubt in my mind that he was touching Shelley's naked body. I hoped the soft sigh was feigned. Shelley: "You're hard." President: "Yeah, I am, aren't I?" Shelley: "And wet too." His giggle went through me like a knife. I could envision his little thumb making slow circles over the end of the man's erection. He liked to smear my pre-seminal fluid and put his finger in his mouth. When he took it out again, he always kissed his fingertip with a wet plop. President: "You like having my pre-cum on you?" Shelley: "Yes sir." President: "How does it taste?" Shelley: "Salty. You're sure making a lot of it." President: "Yeah, I am, aren't I? You're fucking incredible. Shelley, isn't it?" Shelley: "Yes sir. You want me to suck you?" President: "Sure, but not for long. I've got something else in mind." I wanted to turn the volume down but the insistent beat of Shelley's heart stopped me. My hands were shaking. Now matter how many times I had sex with Shelley, I was still fascinated by what he could do with his lips and tongue. And now, he was using that special skill on another man. I shuddered. I heard the gradual increase in his heart rate, the interruption in his breathing, the wet sounds of his mouth hard at work. Shelley: "Okay?" President: "Yeah it's okay. Suck that cock boy." The sounds resumed, the air passing into Shelley's lungs becoming quick gasps as he went further down. TIn my experience there were very few ten-year-old boys who could deep-throat a man's penis, and Shelley was one of them. President: "Fucking hell. Jesus, boy where did you learn to do that? Man! Oh God. Jesus! Fuck! You'd better stop that before I cum in your throat." I heard the unmistakable sound of Shelley giggling, wiping the excess saliva from his chin and cheeks, his tongue licking the man's throbbing penis. If he ran true to form he would have nibbled the corona, biting just hard enough to balance the pleasure with a little discomfort. I could feel his tongue sweeping across my own glans, his lips compressing the head as he sucked for all he was worth. President: "Okay, you'd better stop. Get up on the bed." I groaned aloud Shelley: "How do you want me, Sir?" President: "How do I want you? Every fucking way I can. Let's start with you kneeling. It'll usually go in easier that way. Put that pillow under you." Shelley: "That's cold." President: "You want to do it dry?" Shelley: "No way. You'll hurt like hell." President: "You one hell of whore, boy, but I love you. Pull your ass cheeks apart and let me see that boy-pussy. It doesn't look like it's been used that often, but you sure aren't a virgin. When did you do it last?" Shelley: "It's been a while. Just go slow until I'm used to it." President: "Sure thing." Shelley: "You're in the wrong place. Lower. Ouch! Oh! Jesus!" President: "That the right place?" Shelley: "Yes sir." I had to listen. That was my job while Shelley was doing his job. I would have given anything to throw the Walkman out the window. President: "Push back." Shelley: "I am." President: "Man, you're a lot tighter than Alexis ever was." Shelley: "...Can't help it,..." President: "Push!" Shelley: "I'm trying. Jesus!" President: "God!.... Oh man your ass is so fucking tight,.... Going in now. Shelley: "No,... Please,..." President: "Shhhh. Not so loud. I bet you can feel my cock in you now, can't you boy." Shelley: "Yes sir. I feel it." I knew he was gasping, breathing through his mouth, trying to hold back his cries. He groaned. His heart was pounding. He groaned again. A cry strangled halfway out of his throat. President: "Be quiet you little whore. You wanted this. Your old man knows you're in here with me. He expects you to get your ass worked over. Now you're getting all of it." Shelley: "Ohhhh,.... Noooooo,..... Noooooo,.... Ohhhhh!" President: "Quiet! If you've got to scream, push your face into the pillow." I heard the slap of flesh against flesh and I cringed. I realized my hands were trembling. I tasted my bile in my mouth. Another slap, then another. Then the unforgettable sound of wet suction as the man's penis pulled through the boy's body. Shelley's groan. His heart pounding a staccato. grunting for every breath. Slapping. Groaning. Faster. Faster. President: "Take it all boy." Shelley: "Ohhhh." President: "Yeah, squeeze that little ass of yours." Shelley: "Ohhhh." President: "God, you're hot." Shelley: "Ohhhh." President: "Fuck! I can't believe how good this feels." Shelley: "Ohhhh." President: "It's so much better than my fucking wife. I almost forgot what a tight little ass feels like." Shelley: "Ohhhh." President: "Take it. You want it deep and hard, don't you?" Shelley: "Ohhhh." President: "Feel that boy? It's right up your ass now." Shelley: "Ohhhh." President: "I've never fucked anything this tight before." Shelley: "Ohhhh. Oh God, faster! Do it faster!" Knowing that Shelley was getting close to orgasm was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. Why did he have to enjoy it? Why couldn't he just lie there and pretend as though he liked it until the man was finished? President: "Yeah, you like that, don't you whore?" Shelley: "Uh-ahhh-ooooo-ahhhh." President: "Yeah, fuck yourself on my cock. Push your beautiful little butt back and let my cock fuck all the way up you." I heard the man's balls thumping against Shelley's thighs, the urgency of Shelley's gasps, the frenzied beating of his heart, the slapping of the little eggs as they bounced back and forth in his scrotum, the sloppy juices stirred into squelching oleaginous slickness. Then, in an instant the sounds stopped. I tensed, shaking with fury, unable to stop what was happening. The sounds of the lunging, thrusting, stabbing continued, and then even that stopped. Shelley's voice was panicked as he began to realize. Shelley: "Faster. Oh! Oh God! Do it faster, Rick!" President: "Cumming! I'm fucking cumming in your ass, boy. You can feel me squirting my cum, can't you?" Shelley: "Oh, God! No! Not ready!" I heard the man's organ being yanked out, the boy's wail of misery, the interruption in action leaving an unsettling silence that was broken only by erratic breathing and Shelley's frenzied heartbeat. President: "God Almighty. I've never cummed that much before." Shelley: "It's all over my balls." President: "Too much cum for your ass. I had to put it somewhere." Shelley: "I was almost there." President: "Yeah, I thought you were. Maybe next time." Shelley: "Next time?" President: "Yeah, next time. You do want there to be a next time, don't you?" Shelley: "Yeah, I guess." President: "You guess? Hell, I'm going to fuck your ass every chance I get boy. Just wait until I get you up to Camp David. There's a cabin where you can scream your head off and no one will hear you. Shelley: "Yes sir." President: "Yes sir? By the time I'm finished with you tonight it'll be more than 'yes sir'. You'll be begging for my cock in your ass the same way Alexis used to." Shelley: "Yes sir." President: "Now get your pretty little butt in the bathroom and clean it up. I want you to close the door and stay in there for a while. I'll tell you when to come out. I've got to talk to a friend for a few minutes. He knows I like boys but there's no point in him knowing about you, at least not for a while longer." Shelley: "Yes sir." The bed springs squeaked as the man and boy climbed off. There was the rustle of clothing. The sounds of footsteps on the floor. They went in separate directions, one into the adjoining bathroom, the other to the bedroom door. I heard the tinkling sound of a fountain and smiled as I realized the source of the stream of water. How often had I watched Shelley urinating after sex, his thin fingers holding his penis and wavering to and fro to make his stream splash from side to side. Reluctantly I switched channels. The sounds changed. President: "I'm expecting a visitor in a few minutes. I've got to talk with Harry Grey." Agent: "Yes sir. Should I let him know you're ready to see him." President: "Wouldn't hurt. It's getting late. Just send him right on in when he gets here." A minute passed. I heard the knock on the door. This was it. I willed Shelley to stay where he was, not to come out of the bathroom no matter what. I breathed out. This had to be it. The intermediary had to be Harry Grey. I heard the sound of a door opening and closing. I swallowed. Grey: "Took you long enough." President: "Shut up. Listen closely, I've only got a few minutes." Grey: "Okay, I'm all ears so get to the point." President: "It's going to happen whether I sign off or not. The Congress is behind the NSA on this. There's fuck all I can do. If I don't sign, I'll look stupid." Grey: "Cut the crap. Give me the details. Our friends can worry about it." President: "In a minute. There's something else we have to talk about. That boy Alexis, I want him taken care of." Grey: "I thought you liked him. You sure as hell fucked him often enough." President: "It's over. He's too old." Grey: "Hell! He's too old! I went out on a limb to get that stuff from the doctors. It doesn't work?" President: "Yeah it worked. Up till a few months ago there wasn't a hair on him. The only problem was his dick shrank. He had a bit over two inches when he refused to keep taking the pills." Grey: "Too bad." President: "Just get rid of him." Grey: "Okay, Alexis won't be a problem after the weekend. Now give me the details about the NSA thing." President: "It's in my wallet on the table." Grey: "You got copies safely?" President: "Of course! I photographed the pages with the digital camera. I brought the memory stick with me." Grey: "Good idea. Okay, we'll get back together in two weeks." President: "It'll have to be after that. I'll be in Texas in three weeks." Grey: "That'll work. You found another boy I hear? Where is he?" President: "In the bathroom." Grey: "Can we trust him?" President: "No idea. That's why he's in there and why we're out here. There's no way he can hear through that door." Grey: "What's his name?" President: "Shelley!" Grey: "Jesus! His last name?" President: "Let me think. Christ! Jack told me. Walker! His father is here as well. His name is Bob Walker." Grey: "Bob Walker. He wouldn't be about forty plus or minus. Tall guy, about six-two or three. Brown eyes, really intense." President: "Might be." As Harry Grey started to laugh I was already out of the seat and headed to the door. My mind was in turmoil. What were the chances? A thousand to one? I knew Harry Grey only by reputation. He had a memory that was awe-inspiring. How did he know me? I kept the headphones locked to my ears. Grey: "Fuck!" President: "What's the problem?" Grey: "If he's the same guy, we have a big problem." President: "What are you talking about?" Grey: "About four years ago, when I was ambassador to Mexico, there a problem involving the CIA. Apparently, they got one of their agents to infiltrate a Central American cartel. He was in control for about a year and apparently did quite a bit of damage until someone caught on." President: "Get to the point, Harry!" Grey: "I am. It turned out that this guy was a lot like you. He liked boys! In fact, the story was that he even had a little Mex boy living at his villa in Acapulco. Apparently he became pretty fond of him. One day the kid turned up in the back of a truck. He was in real bad shape." I clenched my fists, trying desperately to block out the memory of Manuel. He was covered in blood, barely breathing. I heard myself shouting his name as I felt his little body struggle to take one last breath, the final wheezing before he slumped back in my arms. His grandmother stood behind me, sobbing. His father was in the driver's seat, two bullets in his brain. President: "Someone tried to kill the kid?" Grey: "They succeeded. The agent blew the operation, killed the head honchos of the rival cartels, and went back to the States. I heard he took out two CIA agents in Texas who gave the game away. His name was supposed to be Bob Walker." President: "No way! Seidelman checked him out. Sure he's a drug-lord, there's no question, but there's nothing in the file about him being CIA." Grey: "Well he is, you can bet on it." President: "Fucking hell! What do we do?" Grey: "Get the kid of the bathroom." I walked down the hallway. The two agents turned slightly, stiffening to attention. I felt the adrenaline surging through my body. They were not going to let me past them. President: "Come on out here. I have somewhere who wants to meet you." Grey: "What's your name?" Shelley: "Shelley Walker." President: "See! I was right." Grey: "Your real name!" Shelley: "That is my real name." Grey: "He's not your father, is he?" Shelley: "Yes. Of course he is." Grey: "Liar! Damn! Did you check him for bugs?" President: "Of course I did. I always do what you suggested. I never let a boy in here without making sure he's naked first." Shelley: "Let me go." Grey: "Shut up! Did you check for scars? Lumps?" President: "Of course. He's fine." Grey: "Get on the bed!" Shelley: "You're hurting me. Ouch! Hey, don't! You're hurting my balls." Grey: "I'll squeeze them until they pop, if you don't shut up and lie still." Shelley: "Don't! Jesus! Don't! It hurts." Grey: "Stop squealing and I'll let them go. Turn over!" President: "See, I told you." Shelley: "Let me go!" Grey: "Christ, you didn't waste any time, did you? Okay! He looks like he's clean. He's got to be a plant." President: "Should I send him out?" Grey: "No! When's Jack coming back for him?" President: "In the morning. I fly back to DC at nine." Shelley: "Can I go now?" Grey: "Shut up you little faggot! Listen, there's something really strange about all of this." President: "Why don't we talk about it in the morning? Maybe you have the wrong Bob walker?" Grey: "Jesus! Shut up for God's sake and let me think." Shelley: "Why can't I go now? Hey! No! Don't! Stop! God, you're hurting me!" Grey: "Nothing like I'm going to. Is he your father?" Shelley: "Yes! Stop! God! No! Don't!" Grey: "I'm going to tear your fucking balls off in a second. Is he your father?" Shelley: "I told you. No! Don't! No!" Grey: "Last chance, faggot!" Shelley: "He is! No! No! Don't! Don't No! No he's not!" Grey: "That's better. Who is he?" Shelley: "I don't know! No! Nooooo!" President: "Jesus, take it easy Harry. You're lifting him up by his ballsac and cock!" Grey: "Shut up! WHO IS HE?" I stopped in front of the agents. They were glaring at me, each with his hand reaching into the front of their jackets. It was a warning that was unmistakable. "I have to see the President," I said urgently. "Sure you do!" "It's the middle of the night. It can wait until morning." Shelley: "Don't! Not again! No! Please! Barrett! His name is Rick Barrett." Grey: "That's better! Next time don't wait so long. Is he with the CIA?" "It's really urgent," I implored. "He has to talk with me." Shelley: "I don't know." Grey: "When did you meet him?" "Look Sir, there's absolutely no way you're going to see the President tonight. He has someone in there with him." Shelley: "A few months ago." Grey: "Good! Now faggot, I want you to tell me what you're doing here?" Shelley: "What does it look like?" Grey: "Don't be a smart ass if you want to keep your cock and balls where they belong. You let him fuck you for a reason! Why?" I stepped back a few feet. In a few seconds I would either be dead or inside the room. I tried to avoid giving any indication of an impending attack as I readied my muscles for action. I tried one last time. "I know he's with Harry Grey." The two agents exchanged a mutual look of surprise. Shelley: "Cause I wanted him to. Owwww! Shit!" Grey: "Next time is your last, faggot! Why?" Shelley: "Because he's a spy!" I heard Grey's laugh through the headphones, the sickening thud of Shelley's body, the gurgling cry that was strangled in his throat. "What's the problem?" I spun around. There was a tall black man behind me. He was scowling, holding a cell phone to his ear. He was the agent in charge. Against three trained men, I had no chance. "I've got to see the President," I said with finality. The man sneered for a moment and then he smiled. "Okay!" He pushed past the other two agents and knocked lightly on the door. I could hear the horrible sound of Shelley being slowly throttled, his breathing stopped, his heart racing. I clenched my fists, tensing for a lunge that would probably result in nearly instant death. Grey: "What the fuck?" President: "Someone's at the door!" Grey: "Damn! I'll take the brat into the bathroom!" President: "You've killed him!" Grey: "Not yet!" President: "Don't!" Grey: "God! You're crazy. The kid could put you away forever. Just being in here with you is enough to get you into deep shit." President: "No! The agents are discreet. They know, okay?" Grey: "They know? They know you fuck little boys?" President: "How could I do it otherwise? They're with me every second." Grey: "That what?" President: "Trust me." Grey: "Jesus!" The door opened a fraction of an inch. The President's face appeared. "What's up?" he asked as if there was nothing wrong. "Excuse me, Mr. President, but we have reason to believe you might be in danger." "Danger? Hardly, I have Harry Grey in here." "Just him? No one else?" "I have a young friend as well." "Is there a problem with him?" "Of course not. He just isn't feeling very well right now." I stepped forward, elbowing one of the agents to the side. "I want to see him," I said brusquely. "I'm sorry. Not at the moment! Maybe in a little while. I'll have him brought to your room when he's feeling better, Mr. Walker," the President said quickly. "The hell you will. I want my son now!" I shouted. "If he's not out here with me in ten seconds I'm coming through the door and getting him." The door opened slightly as the President turned back to talk to Grey. When he turned around again, the front of his bathroom was open. There was still a condom on his limp penis, the end forming a little translucent bulb of creamy fluid. "Your dick is showing, Mr. President," I said crudely. He snorted and hastily closed his robe. He swallowed. "He's feeling a bit sick, that's all. He isn't hurt." I pushed past him and stepped through the doorway. Shelley was lying on his side, his hands at his face as he coughed and gagged. He looked up suddenly as I approached. His face was wet with tears, his neck reddened. Without saying a word, I leaned down and scooped him into my arms. I backed away. Harry Grey's eyes followed me out of the room. The last I saw of him, he was trembling. Shelley: "I love you, Rick." Chapter Ten The worst was over, but the mission was still unfinished. It would remain that way until Shelley and I had secured our future. I was nervous as the Boeing 767 made its final approach into the Atlanta Airport. Shelley had been very quiet almost the entire flight. He was content to have my arm around his shoulders while he read a book. Every few minutes he would glance up and smile. He was happy, not sparkling with transient satisfaction but experiencing the sort of deep seated happiness that comes from utter contentment. It was the sort of happiness that most people never experience. It seemed as if a lifetime had passed during the last week. I heard the low rumble of the flaps being extended, the slight vibration as the airflow was disturbed, the whine of a distant electric motor. I breathed out in frustration. Flying out of Cincinnati had been a mistake, but I had been too eager to finish the assignment go by road. We were expected in Atlanta. Our names would appear on the passenger list, and although there had been ample time for a welcoming committee to be prepared for our flight, it would be very unlikely. I was certain that our departure went unnoticed. It was a hundred to one shot that someone would be waiting for us. I was nervous as the plane taxied to the assigned gate. Seated twenty rows back, a long way from First Class. I checked my watch, aware that we had a few minutes to wait and there was nothing I could do to make the time pass faster. Then, it was out turn we moved into the aisle. I led the way with Shelley falling in behind me. We entered the terminal. Within seconds I realized that Wilderstein had taken every precaution. There must have been a dozen undercover agents. They did not have the clean-cut FBI look. Perhaps they were all outside contractors. Wilderstein appeared in the entrance to an adjoining gate and beckoned for us to follow him down the passageway. There was nothing else I could do except follow, but I could feel the hair on the back of my neck rising. I reached down and gripped Shelley's hand. The last thing I wanted was for him to panic. The surprising thing was the destination above the check-in counter--'Albuquerque'. There was no point in trying to avoid what was waiting ahead. I began walking, sensing the eyes of a dozen men on me. As soon as we were through the doorway, the doors automatically closed behind us. There was no sign of Wilderstein. We walked down the empty ramp, wondering what lay ahead. At the hinge, I stopped. The door to the plane was open. I was reminded of a similar situation a dozen years ago. The Agency had kidnapped a Chinese informant in much the same way. When the plane landed again, the unwilling passenger had disappeared. I felt uneasy. I stepped across the threshold and into the plane. A stewardess smiled and made no effort to look for our tickets. She gestured slightly, indicating that I was to continue on. He was sitting two rows back in the window seat. "Sit down," he said softly, patting the cream-colored leather-upholstered seat beside him. "Fuck you!" "Just sit, Rick. Shelley, you sit across the aisle." I sat down next to him, staring ahead. "Tell me what happened!" "I don't know what happened." "Let's start with the easy stuff. How does he pass on the information?" "Let's start this over again, Jacob." I smiled. "You have something I want. I have something you want." "I have it here," Wilderstein said. He tapped his chest pocket. "All legal. As you probably know by now, the judge signed the adoption papers early this morning. I didn't expect this thing to go down so fast. His name is now Shelley Barrett. He's legally yours to fuck whenever you get the urge." "Fuck you! And the rest of it?" "You know that too so why pretend, Rick. The rest of the money is in the briefcase." Wilderstein gestured to a brown leather briefcase on the floor between his legs. "It's all there. You can count it if you want." I smiled and leaned forward, watching Wilderstein's face from the corner of my eye. He showed no sign of nervousness. Slowly I straightened up. "It's clean. I've held up my part of the deal." "And the disappearing act?" I asked. "When I get what I want, this plane will take off. You and the kid will be the only passengers. It'll fly to non-stop to Albuquerque in New Mexico. A car will be waiting there. You'll have a short vacation at the Grand Canyon and drive on to Salt Lake City. You have a job waiting for you there. You'll be a vice president for Marriot. Great pay, excellent benefits, the lot. A year or two from now you can even retire if you want." "Okay." I nodded slowly. "Tell me!" "The President talks in his sleep." "Rick, don't fuck with me." I shrugged. I took a deep breath. It was now or never. "I saw Sam Underhill there, Jacob." "No way!" "Wilderstein, don't be an ass-hole. You always have a back- up plan. With someone in the Secret Service, you were already where you needed to be. You didn't need me, except as back-up. With Underhill you had the smartest black in the Agency." "I don't like working with niggers, Rick. Even smart ones. I needed you and the kid to be in there." "There's only one thing I don't understand." "What's that?" "How Sam knew what was going on in the bedroom." "No idea." "Don't fuck with me, Jacob." "I'm not. Maybe Underhill had the room bugged." "I'm sure he heard what was going on in there. The way he acted when I saw him. The only problem is that the bedroom was checked out by the Service boys beforehand. I walked past when they were doing it. There was no way it was bugged." "How then?" "That's what I want to know. I figured maybe he had a second Walkman like the one you gave me." Wilderstein shook his head quickly. "There's only one for each transmitter." he glanced down into his lap. Did he seem more nervous than usual? "I took this from Underhill's room this morning," I said. I took the cell phone from my jacket pocket, looked at it with interest and finally held the thing out to Wilderstein. "So? It's a cell phone." "I wondered whether it works like the Walkman." I regarded Wilderstein patiently. "The thing is that key here. It looks like a normal 'END' key,... only it changes the screen if you hold it down for a few seconds. It goes blank and then it shows 'C1 and C2'. It makes you think, doesn't it? I've never seen a cell-phone do that before. Maybe it means Channel One and Channel Two, just like the two channels the Walkman receives on. What do you think?" Deliberately, I pushed the 'END' key. After a few seconds the 'C1' and 'C2' appeared. 'C1' was highlighted. I smiled. I held the phone to my ear, hearing the familiar sounds of Shelley's heart beating and the soft sigh of his breath. I glanced sideways. He was looking out the window, pretending to be disinterested in the conversation across the aisle. "Shelley," I said. "Go back to the last row of seats and sit down. I want you to say something when you get there." "What should I say?" "Anything you want." He grinned as he stood up. I watched his back as he walked away. "Listen Rick,..." Wilderstein said awkwardly. "Yes?" I turned back to face him. "When you arrive in New Mexico, I've arranged for you to take the kid to one of our doctors. Like you, he's retired from the Agency, but he maintains a private clinic just outside Taos. He'll take out the transmitter. You can stay there for a few days. Once the transmitter is out, I'm sure you'll feel better about the whole thing." "The hell I will. Shelley lost a ball, Wilderstein, for no fucking reason. You already had a man close enough to tell you what you wanted to know. You didn't need him." "Yes I did. There's something else." "What?" "Rick,..." He tensed up. He glanced away, then quickly turned back. His voice was low and showed more stress than seemed warranted under the circumstances. "The Russian's technology is good but we still couldn't trust it. Not for something this important." "What are you trying to tell me?" "Remember the one I showed you?" "The one? The one what?" "The transmitter. The one I showed you. The one in the kid- sized ball." "Yes," I answered uncertainly. I swallowed dryly as I felt the blood drain from my face. I could not help but feel nervous. There was something important that Wilderstein had planned not to tell me. Instinctively, I sensed that it involved Shelley. "I love you, Rick." Shelley's voice came from the cell phone as clear as a bell, the soft, soprano of an unbroken voice, of a voice that would never know the baritone tone of puberty. I wanted to return his endearment with words of my own, yet he would not hear me. The nagging worry at the back of my mind suddenly raged into my consciousness. "God!" I breathed. I heard the words spilling out of my mouth as I stared at him in disbelief. "You didn't." "There wasn't a choice, Rick." "There's never a choice with you, is there? Fuck! That's what you were trying to tell me, wasn't it? Each transmitter has its own frequency. There's only one receiver that is tuned in to it. There are two receivers so there has to be two transmitters. You,... you took both of his balls!" "Yes. I know it seems pretty bad right now, but you've got to remember,..." "Shut up! Christ! Damn you! How could you?" I groaned. "Both of them? Jesus! The poor kid." "There was no other way. When you get right down to it, does it really matter all that much whether it's one or two. You even said he's not going to want kids of his own because he's gay." "But that's not your choice to make! Hell, taking one ball was one thing but you've fucking castrated the poor kid!" Without thinking I turned around in my seat to make sure that Shelley was not on his way back to the First Class cabin. I tried to control my anger. "Rick, there wasn't a choice." "Sure there was, only you don't work that way. You don't like taking a little risk, do you Jacob." "I'm sorry. There was no other way." I sighed. "Before when we were talking about one ball, you said he'd mature slowly. Now what happens?" "Obviously starting puberty the way he is now, is impossible. If you want him to grow up normally, there are drugs he can take." "Shut the fuck up!" I tried to control my anger. I needed to be in control. I also had a very bad feeling that we would never arrive in New Mexico, or if we did, it would be a very hard landing after a 30,000 foot free fall. "I'll arrange for the doctor in Taos to tell you more about the hormone treatments and how to get them," Wilderstein persisted. "Other than a weekly injection or two, it shouldn't be a problem." "Okay," I said at last. "There's nothing I can about it, is there?" Wilderstein shrugged. "It wasn't my doing, Rick. It wasn't an option. The Director gave the order." "Damn you! You always pass the buck, don't you? Maybe one day you'll learn the meaning of the word 'responsibility'. You arrange to cut the balls of a perfectly healthy little boy in the name of national fucking security. I don't like it, but I can live with that on my conscience. But you're too weak to look me in the eye and tell me it was your idea." Wilderstein shrugged again. His expression was cold. He stood up and stepped past me into the aisle. "If I know you, Barrett, you'll make it up to him. The report?" He held out his hand. I reached into my jacket and extracted the envelop. It contained a single sheet of paper. It was enough to indict the President should the Director wish to proceed. With that in hand, Wilderstein turned and walked away. I hoped I would never see him again. I clenched my fists, seething with anger. In a way, Shelley's loss, despite how terrible it was to me, was a small price to pay. I still held the cell-phone, musing about the life Shelley and I would have together if we managed to survive the next twenty-four hours. I smiled, suddenly aware that I was hearing the rhythmic reassuring sounds of his hearts and lungs. He was so alive that it made my heart beat faster. Sometimes I had to run just to keep up with him. He loved me. I loved him. Was anything really important given that? Idlely, I switched the channel to 'C2'. The sounds changed. There were many background noises, amplified and unidentified, their sources within the range of two hundred feet. Some sounds were from the terminal, a gate steward checking tickets for a plane's departure, a baggage loader discussing a baseball game with a co-worker, the muffled noises of suitcases moving up a motorized belt and being placed in a hold. There were also voices in the cockpit. "He's off!" "About time. Check the gate clearance, Bob. We should still have priority even if our departure is ten minutes late." "Okay." A few seconds passed. "You got it. Take A-6 to Runway 2. We're second in line if we leave right away." "Okay! Run through the departure check while I get it cranked up. Sue, you want to make sure our two passengers are belted in." "Sure thing, Captain." I placed the cell-phone in my lap and turned down the volume only seconds before the hostess appeared in the cabin, smiling widely like any normal hostesses would to her First Class passengers.She picked up a microphone and still giving me the toothy smile, began the standard introduction. "Good afternoon. I'd like to welcome all of our passengers and to thank you for flying Western Air. We're preparing the plane for take off in a few minutes. If you'll return to your seats and fasten your seat belts,..." As her voice droned on, with warnings about electronic devices and escape routes in the 'unlikely event of an emergency', Shelley slipped into the window seat beside me. I leaned over and whispered in his ear. He giggled. "Er, Miss, I wonder if your could pass me one of the blankets from the overhead," I asked as soon as the hostess had finished speaking. She nodded and quickly passed me a blanket, fresh and clean in a plastic bag. "Would you like something to drink, Sir?" "Sure. I'll take a glass of your best Chardonnay. My son will take a regular Coke." I heard the faint whine of the engines, gradually increasing to a low hum. The plane lurched back. I breathed out. So far so good. I figured we had about an hour and a half. As soon as we were taxiing, I spread the blanket out so that it was completely over Shelley and half-over me. He grinned at me and winked seductively as his hands fumbled at his waist. I heard the unmistakable sound of a metal zipper opening. Had the cell-phone or Walkman not been turned off in compliance with FAA regulations, I would have heard the sudden increase in his heartbeat as his arousal intensified. "Don't take them all the way off," I warned. He smirked and shook his head. The now-obvious little lump in the blanket showed that his jeans were at least open at the front. Slowly my free hand slid under the soft wool. I encountered his shirt, pushing it higher so that my fingers grazed across his smooth bare belly. He was warm and alive. It was almost like touching a baby's skin. My fingers inched downward after circling his tiny navel a dozen times. His eyes lowered, following my encroaching hand. I touched the slightly warmer skin of his crotch, the barely distinguishable mound of his hairless pubis, the little fold of skin that formed when his penis was limp. He moved, parting his legs, bringing one thigh against my legs. His fingers brushed against mine, guiding me to his already rigid penis. It was hot and moist and literally jumping with anticipation. I felt the plane stop, then the engines grew in noise to a nearby, yet unobtrusive roar. The plane vibrated and began to move forward. As we lifted off, I mercilessly gripped the small hard spike between Shelley's legs, squeezing the blood out of him. He lifted upward, tensing his thighs and belly muscles as he strained to make himself harder. It was his way of offering himself to me, a willing gift of his boyhood. I felt his penis stiffening even more, swelling proudly under my massaging fingers. I rubbed my finger across the tender rounded head of his penis. It was both hard and spongy and it seemed to bulge more than ever before so that the ridge under the glans was very prominent. Shelley sighed as I began to stroke along the sensitive shaft of flesh and corded veins, pushing and pulling on the slack skin. I used long strokes, fondling his velvet-smooth scrotum and the bean-sized aliens within. It was both bizarre and strangely exciting. He climaxed quickly, gasping for air as his penis jerked a half-dozen times. It was dry, of course, but a miracle nonetheless. I felt his penis flexing under my fingers. It was his sign that he did not want me to stop. Unlike mine, Shelley's penis did not immediately wilt. It was still very hard, throbbing and eager for more. After a few moments, my fingers continued their steady stroke, working from 'knob to nuts'. Shelley grinned up at me and nodded slightly, using his muscles to make his erection pulse and jump. Only then did the realization come to me that this is how it would always be for him. Certainly, it could be argued that the joy of ejaculation had been taken from him, but he gained something back. There was no post-orgasmic let down to worry about. Had he been cheated, or richly rewarded for his service to his country? Undertaking the mission was hardly a matter of patriotism, but from another perspective, he retained almost all of the pleasure, the opportunity to repeat it as often as he wanted, and none of the mess. However, I had always been something of an optimist. I masturbated Shelley for the best part of an hour. By the time he finally pushed my hand away he had achieved climax, if not actual release no less than three times and was well on the way to number four. Being castrated had apparently not affected his capacity for pleasure or the ability to respond to it. The tip of his penis was crimson, slightly swollen, and still dry. One minute passed while Shelley lay quietly, absorbing the lingering sensations in his groin until his penis shrivelled and lay limply against his scrotum. He smiled shyly, his eyes half- closed in mesmerizing joy. "Okay?" I whispered. "Very okay. God, I wish we could do it. I've missed you so much. It's been a whole week, Rick." "I think you need to rest for a while," I teased. "Besides there'll be plenty of chances to make up for the lost time later tonight. get yourself closed up down there." "Are we going to be okay?" Shelley asked. His voice was anxious. His hands fumbled under the blanket as he tugged on his zipper and fastened the metal button of his jeans. "I don't know," I said. I lifted the cell-phone back to my head, turning the volume up slightly. Again there was a cacophony of background noises that made it difficult to hear what was being said in the cockpit. "We've got clearance all the way to Albuquerque." "Good. How are our passengers doing?" "Fine the last time I looked. The man was reading a magazine and the boy looked like he was asleep." "Strangest damned thing, I've ever seen. Cancelling the flight and then putting it back on with only two passengers." "Those asses in Atlanta have no idea how to route." "Go figure. I guess they made a mistake. What's the ETA into Albuquerque?" "Five-twenty." "Damn it's weird. I keep getting a really bad feeling about it. Go back and check on them again, Sue." She came into First class just as I was refolding the blanket. The little tease sitting next to me looked up and grinned at her when she asked him whether he had a good nap. I handed her the blanket, still warm from Shelley's body. "Thank you, Miss," I interrupted. "Would you be so kind as to ask the pilot to step back here for a few seconds?" "I'm sorry sir that's not possible at the present time. He's very busy in the cockpit and flight regulations do not allow him to come back here once we're in the air, unless there's an emergency." "Then please tell him that you have an emergency," I replied. "I'm very sorry sir, I can't,..." "Just fucking do it!" I said loudly. She moved quickly. Less than a minute later the uniformed pilot appeared. He walked up and stood over me, his face a mixture of consternation and polite curiosity. "Is there a problem, sir?" "There may be." I glanced around the plane. "Rather empty this afternoon, isn't it?" "Not really." His voice was flat and unemotional, a voice that was used to giving orders and convincing passengers that it was perfectly safe to fly. "I'm surprised you aren't more curious about your two passengers." The pilot shrugged. "I don't know why I should be. Should I?" "You had passengers with tickets?" "They went on a different flight." "Oh! Why do you think my son and I received special treatment?" "I don't know. You must be someone important." I gave him a wry look. I took a chance, basing what I said on the news story I had been reading on the previous flight. "No, not that. I just finished giving evidence against Michael Lambrosi in the Federal Court Building in Atlanta." The pilot suddenly looked at me with more interest. "Lambrosi? It's been in the news for the last few days." I nodded slowly. "I used to work for him. There's a good chance the evidence I gave today will put him away for life." I smiled weakly. "Only there's a slight problem." "What's that?" "There's also a good chance there's a bomb on board," I said boldly. "A bomb?" He breathed slowly. "What makes you think that?" "I don't trust the Feds. They do a bad job sometimes, especially when there's a lot at stake. In my business if you want to live to be an old man, you learn to trust no one. Did they stow any bags underneath in Atlanta?" The pilot's face changed instantly. His expression revealed what had happened well before I heard the words. "We hadn't started loading when the flight was cancelled. All we have on board is some Postal bags that we put on in Pittsburgh and the three suitcases that were carried across from the Cincinnati flight. I saw the ground staff doing it. I assume those bags were yours?" "Two probably are. The third isn't," I said icily. "You mean? Jesus! There's a bomb?" "It's more than likely. If I was in your job I'd want to get this plane on the ground as quickly as possible." "Why? What makes you think it's on a timer? It could be based on altitude just as easily." "True. If it's altitude, there not a damn thing you can do about it. Landing now or an hour from now, makes no difference. If it's a timer, then you have a chance." I paused. "There's another reason." "What's that?" "The terrain." I glanced at my watch. "It's four-thirty. Let's say we're about three hundred miles out of Albuquerque. However, another fifteen or twenty minutes you'll be flying over some of the least populated and rugged parts of the country." "Jesus! I guess we ought to land at Amarillo. Just to make sure." I nodded slowly. "I would, if I was you. Another thing, I wouldn't report the chance of a bomb aboard before you land, just in case they can set it off by radio." "How come you're so calm?" the pilot barked. I shrugged. "Years of experience working with Lambrosi. There's no point in panicking." He turned and hurried off. I winked at Shelley, again holding the cell-phone to my ear as the pilot gave instructions to the co-pilot. The radio transmission was perfunctory--'a possible problem with the engines'. The plane banked sharply and began a quick descent. I silently prayed that my assumption was correct. THE END (for now)