Subject: White Ford Gay Adult-Youth White Ford �MCVT2017 MCVT December 24, 2018 An unusual boy redefines his unusual life and the lives around him. It doesn’t take an unusual occurrence for you to make a donation to fty/donate.html 100% Fiction/Adult Content: MM, Mb, solo, ped, drug, dom, rom, violence, slow. =========================================================================== My sleazy brother sent me an email while I was at work. He was going on a spur of the moment vacation with his current squeeze. Damn, he asked me to go by his house and take care of the dogs for a couple of days. He didn’t respond when I told him I wouldn’t do it, so I was stuck. Said he’d pay me when he got back. Sure, like he paid me back when I bailed him out of jail last time. The only break I’d had from taking care of his responsibilities was when he was in jail. His house was filthy, his dogs were filthy and his girlfriend was nastier than the dogs. Dog breeding was this girlfriend’s “career.” Her pedigreed Blue Tick Coonhounds were so inbred they didn’t have enough sense to come in out of the rain, much less fuck. I imagined she assisted them. She was like that. Disgusting. I felt sorry for the beasts caught in her scrap-lumber kennel. Since I `d have to shovel dog shit and feed the lanky hounds while they set up a ruckus till I brought their food, I switched to my muck boots. When I went in the old shack my brother had rented for his newest soul mate, I immediately suspected he was drinking again. The inside of the house looked like some packrat’s nest – food wrappers, beer cans and trash scattered around the dump-salvaged furnishings. “Better not start the drugs again. Last time earned him several years…” My brother Bud majored in videography right out of high school and showed great potential while I went into the service to become a computer specialist working security at Marine bases. After eight years I used my vets benefits to open a small business and landed several contracts to secure retail businesses in the Sweetwater area. I worked from my home office outside the city and it took a seven-twenty-four effort those first years. Bud lived several miles further outside the city — he didn’t want to be polluted by the mainstream media — that’s what he said. I doubted he was working enough to pay for amenities like cable in order to pollute himself. As far as the other amenities, well, I knew he’d had the water and lights cut off several times — who do you think paid to turn them on again? But he was the only brother I had — I had to hold hope he’d change. We didn’t visit or talk often, maybe four or five times a year but, yep, I enabled him and helped him dodge jail several times and partially funded his capriciousness. In some ways I envied his free-spirited ways. … After cleaning the runs and kennels, I fed and watered them and gave all twelve dogs some attention and a pat; I like dogs. We always had dogs to chase off the varmints on the farm where we grew up. With a cold Shiner from my truck, I went in the house, washed my hands and sat down for a few minutes. Phew! Bud’s house smelled awful. On a rickety old bookshelf, I saw some old vids, VHS. “Ford” was written on one. Maybe that was video of Dad’s old white Ford Falcon Bud and I used to drive the backroads; case of Lone Star and a twenty-dollar baggie – I remember those nights with the guys. Hot summer evenings, dusty roads and skinny dipping at the lake. Ah, yes, my few free-spirited days; close as I came to drugs, sex, rock n’ roll… I popped it in the VCR for a trip down memory lane. The video began spinning and a picture flickered on the screen. No car appeared, instead there was a boy. He was small, narrow shoulders, blue-eyed and a bush of long white, curly hair — cotton-headed boy but looked to be albino he was so pale. He was maybe three years old, and very timid in front of the camera. He turned a few times while whomever was taping the boy encouraged him to smile. The image jumped abruptly, and showed the boy in the bath, then running through the house naked, giggling and screaming as his bare feet slapped the wooden floor, carefree and happy. Must be the child of one of women who stayed with Bud. As far as I knew Bud didn’t claim any children. I continued watching the video of the boy — beautiful child with that head of white curls, eating cookies with a dog alongside him nipping gently at the treat, the boy licking a popsicle, then laying on his stomach watching the television. Didn’t recognize the house or the furnishings. The tape went black for a few moments when I heard a man’s voice, sounded like my brother speaking softly. A slow fade across the screen revealed the boy standing in the late afternoon sun, sheer curtains filtering the sunlight, his darkened silhouette was outlined by a soft glow and his messy bright white tendrils of hair hung to his shoulders catching glimmers of light like a halo. Same boy, now a little older. The naked boy turned slowly and his perfectly proportioned profile caught the light. Slender body — straight with small muscles and a fully-rounded rear. Dimples showed between his lower back and his butt, small rib cage almost visible. The fine, downy hair along his arms and legs glistened, giving him an ethereal, almost unearthly look as his shape was outlined by a wispy line of light. Dust particles roiled reflecting the sun in the air around the boy. Slowly, the boy’s slender hand pushed the curtains aside and he stood in the fading sunlight, radiant. Breathtaking — pale nipples on a flat chest — but his skin! It appeared translucent in the waning light of day. Slender, short fingers on a small hand reached toward his tiny penis. Leaning his head back, the boy grinned — eyes with sand-colored, pale eyelashes making quick crescents over his rounded cheeks, then he looked down to his groin, flexed his knees slightly fondling his tiny balls in their sac tucked close to his body. Such a tiny ball sac — so pale, only a hint of blue from the veins and arteries under his semi-transparent skin. Then angelic being looked to the side quickly and pursed his lips, giving a short, low whistle. His eyes stayed to the side, and he whistled a few more times until a large, lanky Bluetick entered the room, nails tapping on the dark wooden floors. The dog’s head was at the boy’s hips. The dog’s long muzzle lifted to the boy’s groin sniffing and snorting while a short, smooth hand patted his head and spoke softly to him. When the dog’s long, red tongue came forward, he began licking the tiny ball sac and between the boy’s legs, definitely enjoying the taste. I wondered what the strangely-colored boy tasted like; smelled like. The boy looked straight at the camera as the dog licked, he revealed his pale, pink thumb-tip sized glans several times then his face froze. His eyes shut as a minute shudder shook the small body — such a delicate boy in a subtle, puerile moment of pleasure. When he opened his eyes, he took a deep breath and crouched down to pet the dog, taking his ears in his hands and kissing the dog between his eyes. “Incredible!” But the video didn’t stop. The boy turned and leaned over with his hands on the floor, his small globes parted to reveal his equally pale cleft with its tiny pink-beige pucker – almost not there it was so small. The dog’s nose went to the boy’s anus and began licking. What a sight! The child made cooing noises and I could swear the dog was smiling. I’d never seen anything like this — it couldn’t be the childhood remembrances of a parent… Several moments of canine rimming continued, then the child stood and went into an old metal bed where the sheets and blankets were pushed aside as though someone had slept there recently. A tiny hand slapped the sheets several times, he called the dog up on the bed with him and lay next to the hound with that slender arm over the mottled black-grey coat of the dog — a slick-haired dog next to the smooth nude body of the boy. The video slowly went dark as the boy and dog fell asleep. Kiddie porn! My brother was making porn now, I recognized his style using light and the subject without much of a set, but where did he find such a beautiful child? Did he rent him, snatch him or buy him? Being such an unusually colored child, that video would mark the boy for life if it was on the net. There were several more scenarios on the tape. One with the same pale boy bathing on the back porch in a galvanized tub in only the light of a bare bulb swinging overhead. Gnats flew through the yellow light and the sounds of crickets; dogs barked in the distance. There was an extreme close up of his tiny hands soaping his penis and cleaning under his foreskin with a half-hearted swipe. The camera must have been at the very tip of the tiny pee slit as it recorded the boy’s hand opening and closing his foreskin and playing with it with his fingers. Tiny fingernails on tiny fingers; he pulled his almost sheer foreskin several times as if trying to lengthen it, I guessed, then continued to a brief orgasm that caused the boy to sigh. The video faded slowly into black as I stroked myself, spellbound and imagining touching the pale, soft body covered with droplets of bath water. The sound of the water dripping, the soft whir of insects, I could almost taste a trace of soap on my tongue. The third scene was even more sensual. The same boy lay in a curl, fingering his butt and squeezing his tiny rod as he relaxed on an old porch swing in the afternoon shade. He opened his legs and spit on his fingers, then rubbed his hole. In his other hand, he held a transparent plastic water gun — bright pink and full of water, the water slushed inside the body of the toy. The boy put his lips around the slick cylinder — the barrel of the play gun and wet it with saliva, then quickly put the barrel to his ass and with a big grunt, shoved the plastic gun barrel into his ass. The camera moved close to the boy’s pucker. The skin around the pink cylinder showed the boy pushing and pulling the bright pink, half-inch barrel in his butt while he moaned softly. Every few moments, he’d squeeze the trigger. A few drops of water escaped from the boy’s ass. God, that was erotic. One hand on his short rod, and the other pushing and pulling the barrel of the water gun in and out his tiny hole. He continued raising his feet toward his shoulders as the stimulation increased and his motion quickened. More of the barrel was inserted and then the boy pushed it deep. Soft moans and grunts as his tiny body shuddered and relaxed, then the imp fell asleep with the bright pink toy still stuck inside him. The camera stayed on the boy’s stretched anus as several drops of water ran down the boy’s cleft leaving a small puddle underneath the white narrow white butt. The lens followed the thin seam of skin upward, closely recording every part of the miniscule genitals, then upward toward his ribcage; it expanded only slightly, then relaxed. Nipples, smooth neck, and completely relaxed face — small, full lips parted breathing silently. Not like any porn I’d seen before, but it was steaming my gonads. I got up to find a tissue as I finished my beer but had to settle for a greasy shop rag and washed my hands again. Damn, that was the prettiest boy doing the most erotic, personal things… Sure, I’d seen porn, but not of a child playing with himself like that. I’d never been that inventive during my youth! Suddenly, I was shaken from my thoughts by the sound of footsteps on the wooden porch, then the front door slammed open. A mini foreign legionnaire stomped into the front room. Wrap-around sunglasses and a hat that had flaps on the sides and back – a child entered the room. I could only stare at this strange child. In the heat of May the child was fully clothed in a tattered, long-sleeved shirt and dirty jeans. His shoes seemed to have lost their laces. Strange. The book bag hit the floor and the small figure turned and stopped in front of me. “Who’re you?” The child asked. “Bud’s brother, Len. Who’re you?” He looked around and pulled his hat and sunglasses off. There he was — that head full of white curls and the pale skin — the boy on the video. “I’m Wilford — Mom calls me Ford. Where’s my mom?” “Don’t you have a cell phone?” I asked and the thought came to me that I’d seen every part of this child’s body, in intimate poses; erotic activities. I trembled remembering his radiant skin. “Are you kidding? Mom says I have to be ten before she’ll get one for me — that’s two more years.” “Bud went on a quick vacation with his girlfriend, I guess that’s your mom. They said they’d be back in three or four days.” “Crap.” He gave me a smirk and went into the kitchen. “She’s snorting again.” I heard him foraging in the refrigerator, then the cabinets. “They’re not coming back. I’ll have to go into foster care again. I hate that.” “You’ve been left alone before?” I followed him into the kitchen. “Three times.” He said and threw an empty cracker box on the floor. “She always comes out of rehab and tells me she won’t do it again.” His eyes filled with tears and he ran into the bedroom. He threw himself on the old metal bed I recognized from the video and cried softly. “Well, I don’t know about your mom and my brother, but let’s get something to eat. C’mon.” I called after him. Glancing around the almost bare kitchen – the cabinets were empty but for a few scurrying roaches. “I can’t go out again till dark.” “Is that because you’re so pale?” I didn’t know how else to phrase that but walked into the bedroom. “Yeah, I’m the albino freak.” He started sobbing. “The windows on my truck are tinted. C’mon, it’ll be alright for a few minutes.” He didn’t move, I tried another ploy. “I think you’re beautiful…” “You’re a perv.” Finally jerked out of his throat between sobs. “I am not. I’m a security engineer, and I’m hungry — will you stay here while I go get some dinner?” “Where am I going to go? I don’t have any money, I don’t have anything.” Seemed to me that his mother and my stinking brother expected the kid to stay on his own in this filthy shack or turn himself in to the foster care system through the school. “Okay. Pack it up, you’re coming with me tonight.” He started screaming, but we were too far from anyone to be heard. I found an old cooler on the back porch and filled it with all the videos I could find — couldn’t find the camera. Scooping up all the scattered paper work I could find I stuffed it in a fast food bag and put anything else of value in the back of my truck. I noticed a letter from the school district about Ford’s disability, mailed to his mother, Deborah Smithson. Then, I asked young Mr. Wilford Smithson to head to my truck. “Where are we going?” “My house. I live near the old mall. You’re coming with me – can’t leave you here alone. If you don’t want to come, I’ll call the police to take you now.” “If I let you suck me, will you leave?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. “No. I don’t suck boy-cock. It’s against the law. Keep your dick to yourself till you’re eighteen.” That was the most bizarre statement I’d ever spoken out loud, but I didn’t know what else to say. I am bright enough to know that the foster care system is a joke and I figured I’d ease him into some kind of program for precocious children with the help of a county social worker. He went into his room with a plastic bag he’d pulled from trash and loaded several things, another pair equally ragged jeans and a few shirts — he wadded his dirty garb and stuffed it in. He grabbed his book bag and his earthly possessions, including the pink plastic water pistol, put his hat and sunglasses on and went to the truck. I glanced around for anything else of importance to the boy and wished I could burn that house down — for community betterment, but I didn’t. … Never let a kid order at a drive through. We left with twenty dollars of fried food and sugary drinks, but little Mr. Ford was busy eating as soon as the sacks of food hit his lap. “If you were alone right now, what would you have eaten for dinner?” I asked as we pulled out on the highway. With a French fry hanging out of his mouth, “Kibble. That’s the only food we got plenty of.” “You like it?” I’d never tasted my pets’ food. “The kibble’s okay — needs salt. The canned stuff sucks.” At my house, I told him to bring his bag to the back porch and I started a wash. I lugged the old ice chest into my office and began sorting papers from Bud’s place. After I gave Ford one of my tee shirts, I pointed to the shower. “Shower every day — that’s the rule.” When I heard the shower running, I opened my phone and called a guy who used to be an attorney but got caught up in a scandal and got himself disbarred. Now he worked as something of a paralegal and private eye, “Chapman Consulting.” Chap ran background checks on all the new hires at the businesses I secured and helped with a few security problems — he knew everyone in the area. I gave him a few details about Ford and asked him to come over for a while. I wanted him to help me find Bud and the boy’s mother. While I was waiting for Chap, I found Ford in the middle of my bed wrapped in a towel clutching a bag of fast food. “My little Heidi.” I thought – he was squirreling food for tomorrow — not knowing what would happen to him. Unwrapping him and slipping my tee shirt over his head and down his body — it gave me a chance to see how his ribs were pronounced, arms and legs thin but his belly was tight with his dinner. That reminded me to get to the kitchen and make a bag lunch — two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and a bag full of chips — he had to go to school. I wrapped fifty cents in a napkin and labeled it “Milk Money.” … I heard Chap coming in the back door — big, husky man in tight jeans and a knit shirt with a tweed sports jacket. Damn fine-looking for being almost over his hill. We combed through the paperwork I’d found and I slipped the video into the player in the living room. He was spellbound and shifted several times when his erection filled his jeans. “Whadda think?” I asked and popped the video out — he’d seen enough. “Groomed for the sex trade. Where is he?” We walked to my bedroom and I opened the door. “Damn, are you sleeping with him already? You old devil.” He grinned at me. “I couldn’t do that. Help me, he’ll have to sleep on the couch.” Chap lifted the boy carefully in his arms. I brought his bag of burgers and placed it by his pillow and we let him sleep. Wouldn’t you know, Chap grabbed Ford’s bag of food and began eating. “Yeah, that’s the kid. Worth a mint on the market, being so different. Is he healthy now?” “Seems to be, but, `now?’ He’s been sick?” “He was drugged on the videos when he was playing with himself, that’s why he was so slow — didn’t you notice the pupils of his eyes?” My work only brought me into contact with a few teen shoplifters through the years — most of the time, the police handled them. I was curious, “Do you think you could find the boy’s mother? She’s with Bud. If I know him, they’re down near the border. I’ll take him to school tomorrow, but I don’t want to see him in foster care — though he’s plenty wise about it and foraging on his own. He hates foster care.” “Sure you want me to look for her? She’s probably in on the grooming.” He riffled through the papers, “You could keep him until he’s eighteen, or we might be able to emancipate him earlier. If he’s on the street, he won’t be there long, someone’ll snatch him in a minute. The kid’s worth at least — I’d guess around five hundred thousand to the right buyer. Big call for light skin in Asia and from what you say, he’s half-broken in now. Do you know if he’s a virgin?” Blushing furiously, “How am I gonna ask him that?” “In the trade, it’s a common question. Just ask him if he’s been butt-fucked.” Chap told me to move and got on the net to look up some information. “Take him to school tomorrow and give your name as emergency contact. Say his parents were called out of town suddenly — you’re the uncle. If they ask, Bud and the woman had a common-law marriage. I doubt if they’ll ask. Get him to a clinic tomorrow after school, he’s got some red spots on his leg – that’ll help verify your good intentions. I’ll get to work on finding his mother.” He visited a few sites searching for Deborah Smithson. Nothing until he hit the site showing mug shots. There was a picture of a woman busted in Oregon — dark haired with scabs spotting her face. He printed it out for me. I slipped it inside a folder and set it aside. “Could you find out if those videos of Ford got onto the net? I don’t know any kiddie porn sites — aren’t they illegal?” “Yeah, but they’re there. I’ll look around and see what I can find.” He went to the kitchen and grabbed my last beer and left. … Early the next morning, I shook Ford awake gently. When I pulled his clothes out of the dryer I noticed his briefs were ragged, falling apart. Since my tool box was close, I went to town with my glue gun and did a reasonable job and took his clothes to him. “Get dressed. I’ll get breakfast.” “Here’s your lunch.” I let him watch me slip it in his book bag. “I get free lunches.” He said, stuffing a scrambled egg sandwich in his mouth. “Do you like them?” He shrugged. “Peanut butter-jelly with chips.” He grinned. “Good, I hate low-fat pizza, and I’ll get to sit with my friends.” When I dropped him off at school, I went in to see the principal and gave her my card. “You need to list me as the emergency contact for Wilford Smithson. His mother was called out of town — family emergency. She’s my brother’s wife…” “Smithson – Smithson…” She was trying to place the boy. “The albino.” I prompted her. “Oh, yes. Strange kid. Needs help with his studies or we’ll have to hold him back a year. Missed a lot of days during the winter.” “Okay. I’m taking him to the doctor this afternoon about some skin problems.” “Scabies, ringworm or lice — those need to be kept home until they’re resolved. Bring him to the nurse before he goes back into class.” She said distractedly, looking a stack of paperwork on her desk. “I’ve heard some rumors — but it couldn’t be him. Never mind.” My stomach clenched thinking of those videos being circulated and the gossip around town, but I remained composed. I walked out of the office and felt a need to get him out of school — but he needed an education and truancy is against the law. … I went to take care of the dogs and knew they needed more care than I could give them, so I stopped by the last payphone in town and called the humane society anonymously. There was no way I could keep all of this up with no idea when Bud would return. Those beasts deserved better. “Someone’s left them neglected, and it looks like they’re sick…” At home, I hustled through work, scanning security videos and making reports, noting unscanned places in the retail areas that needed a wider lens, and forwarded them on to my clients. Before I knew it, I had to pick up Ford and take him to the clinic. He bounded out to my truck and jumped in grinning, then dug through his book bag for a folded, wrinkled paper. “Perfect score on my spelling test!” “Wow, that deserves a treat! We’ll go straight to the doctor for some medicine.” His face wrinkled. “We got to see about those spots on your leg and see if you need any vaccinations.” “Mom says no vaccinations — she says they’ll make me autistic.” “Well, let me think… Going to the hospital, can’t get out of bed, sick for months and maybe die or – a vaccination. I wonder if they’d put me in jail because you’re not vaccinated…” I gave him a sideways glance. “I slept for four days one time.” “Were you sick?” “I don’t know, I was asleep.” He looked at me, “I’m not gonna like getting a shot — I may have to yell.” He smirked yet accompanied me into the local clinic quietly. I noticed when people first saw Ford and his incredibly white skin and hair — some smiled. Others looked away like he was monstrous. Odd, I thought, he was unique for sure, but his features were boyishly cute — upturned nose and full lips. His paleness only made him more distinctive and his blue eyes even deeper blue. Soon we were escorted back to an exam room and I helped Ford undress. He kept his briefs on; my glue repairs had held fairly well, I noted. A nurse came in with health-themed comic books and some kind of a spinning gadget for him. She took all the measurements and such while I watched. The doctor came in and smiled, she was a cute Asian woman slightly taller than Ford. After asking him a number of questions about his albinism and keeping himself covered while in the sun, the doctor examined his eyes, “Things look alright, but we need to keep track of your vision. I’m giving you a prescription for some very dark glasses and a referral to an ophthalmologist. She looked at me. “He needs to go within the month. Then she checked his mouth — he needed dental work. My mind was calculating the cost of this visit. Sitting him on the exam table, she spoke softly to Ford, “It’ll get easier when you’re older, being pale isn’t so bad, just make sure you keep yourself covered.” He nodded, liking the direct attention he was getting as she felt along his muscles. She put her clipboard down, “Are you involved in sports?” “I play chess with the kids in the wheelchairs in the cafeteria. The school nurse said I couldn’t go outside at recess.” “I see.” She held her open hands in front of her, palms facing and asked him to push her palms together. He did. They did that several times, then she went on to his legs. “Your muscle tone is weak.” She turned to me. “See about the programs at the Y. They have indoor programs. Ford doesn’t need to gain weight or muscle but build strength and endurance. Aerobics would be good. Make sure his diet is balanced and a daily vitamin for several months might help. What are you eating?” “Kibble! Oh, god, don’t say that!” I thought but let him answer. “Whatever. I’ll eat anything.” He grinned. “Cut the sugar and the grease. You know the routine.” Was all she said about nutrition. “Okay, lean back and let me check your lower body.” He slipped his briefs off and dropped them on the floor. The doctor looked down, “What’s this?” She held the ragged, glued briefs on the tip of her pen, in front of my face. “What happened here?” “Had to make them last one more day so I used the glue gun.” The globs had held the thin fabric to the elastic fairly well. “Not acceptable — this boy needs decent underwear. I can write you out a slip for the thrift store if you need.” I think she was chuckling. “Trim his toenails — straight across and not too close… and he needs new shoes. She paused, looking at Ford’s face, “Beautiful curls – women would give fortunes for his hair.” Ford didn’t blush but laid back on the table when she asked and lifted his knees. “Tell me if you feel any pain.” She was pressing along his groin and his belly. Then she reached for a packet of lube and greased the middle finger of the latex glove on her right hand. “This may feel uncomfortable…” Ford lay still. The doctor stopped, pushed Ford’s leg back to his chest and looked at his ass. Maybe he had worms — jeez, what next? “How long has he been with you?” The doctor glanced at me. “Yesterday – after school.” She nodded and wiped the lubrication off Ford’s butt and looked at the spots on his legs. “Get dressed Ford, but not your jeans.” While the nurse came in to apply ointment and bandages to the spots on his leg, the doctor took me to the hallway. “You know, I have to report signs of abuse. Ford’s muscles are underdeveloped, I understand that to an extent — his time outside is limited. But there’s a scar on his anus — he’s been penetrated, it’s healed and closed. Shouldn’t be a problem if he’s not penetrated again.” She stared at me like she wanted a confession. “What is your relationship to the boy?” “Nephew. My brother’s step-kid.” I kept my expression serious knowing full-well where this was going. “Family emergency — they had to go out of town. I brought him in because of the spots on his leg — by the way, he told me his mother hasn’t had him vaccinated — could you do that?” She considered all I said. “Okay. He’s got scabies. Wash the sheets and towels, it’s spread by contact with infected items. Use the ointment twice a day and keep the irritated places covered — a common problem among the kids his age. It’ll clear up quickly.” She paused, “Who has he been staying with before he came to you? Do you know anything about the tear on his anus?” “He may have been staying with his biological father or someone else, I just met the kid a day ago. I don’t know any more than that.” “I need a moment with him.” She left me in the hallway. In a few moments, Ford came out with the doctor. Both were smiling. We had to go back in a few months for another series of vaccines. In the truck, “What did she ask you?” “She asked me if someone put anything in my butt.” “Yeah? What did you say?” “I told her I like stuff up my butt — feels good. She told me I could only use one of my fingers — that’s all.” I wondered if I was on some state suspect list due to the scarring on Ford’s anus… But this is Texas and children’s protective services were famous for inaction I wasn’t going to get heartburn over it. … Ford and I went to a large department store and he picked out brightly colored briefs, socks, jeans, shirts… Then to the shoe department, and after that, the pharmacy for a comb and hairbrush. I found lavender scented baby shampoo that I liked then on to the vitamins and bandages while Ford picked out three flavors of toothpaste and a toothbrush with an animal on the handle. On the way out of the store, we stopped for a trim. Ford was very fussy about wanting his hair to cover his neck and kept pulling his head away when he felt the stylist was overstepping his bounds. The frazzled lady wound up only shaping his curls into a manageable mess. I guessed it was his “style.” He was grinning and bouncing around all the way to the truck. When we got home I told him to clean up while I made dinner. He was excited with all his new things but came to the kitchen in my old tee shirt and several sheets of math problems. He changed my radio station to pop music before started his homework. He concentrated on the worksheets, writing carefully and I remembered he needed to see the eye doctor. Homework had to be done daily, I made a mental note about that, too. He had to stay on track in school or stay back a full year. Kids are a lot of work, even the independent ones. We finished eating, and I noticed nothing fresh on our plates or in the kitchen. Damn — I’d have to grocery shop for real food. I figured that Ford would eventually cost me around fifteen hundred from all I’d found out today, but the boy seemed happy and calm after some radical changes in his life. I wondered when my brother was coming back — these were radical changes in my life. … After dinner, we watched the tele while he tried on his new clothes, then trimmed his toenails. I noticed izmit rus escort his calf muscles were thin. Yep, we’d have to start doing something about that. He fell asleep on the couch beside me as I cut the tags off his new clothes. What an angelic face. I could smell the lavender shampoo and touched his curls. He turned, eyes still closed. “Thank you.” “My pleasure.” It did feel good to take care of someone so beautiful. … Later I woke him to brush his teeth with me and tucked him in on the couch. After that, I went back into the old cooler to review more of the videos on my computer. Fast forwarding through the tapes I found what I was looking for it was labeled with “Entry.” There was a dimly lit room with two figures on the bed, a woman and a child. Ford was nuzzling against a woman just out of the frame — could that be his mother in the shadows? The lighting was eerie — lit from below, shadows distorted the faces, but the head of white curls was unmistakable. The woman cuddled and cooed with the boy as he snuggled against her. Then her hand went to his butt — his hole had a shine to it — like some kind of liquid was rubbed on it. Soon a shadow moved about darkening them, a man was pulling on the boy’s legs, couldn’t see the man’s face as he brought Ford’s legs to the edge of the bed. The woman kissed the boy’s cheeks and took the boy’s limp arms and laid them alongside his torso, then the man handed her the boy’s ankles. The male figure turned to the camera slightly as he grabbed a tube of white lubricant and squeezed a big dollop on his fingers. For a split-second I saw the flash of light on slick skin; I stopped the tape and rewound it but the sheen was just a nanosecond of a glimmer. My brother’s appendectomy scar? Lots of people had appendicitis, but I stopped the tape again and again until I had the glint on the screen. Yep, that was Bud, I remembered the scar and the whole incident with him in the hospital. With the white lubricant melting and dripping off his penis, Bud aimed his tip at the boy’s hole, but decided against it. Without much resistance from Ford, he began probing the boy’s hole with his finger. He reached over and turned on a small bedside lamp as he continued working the tiny hole open. Ford’s body was completely limp and the woman had to keep repositioning him as she kept reassuring he was a good boy. A few words were spoken between the man and the woman. Both adults paused for a moment and said something, I couldn’t understand — the audio recording didn’t catch the soft voices. The bodies on the edge of the bed were in shadows with only another light from the floor, but it was enough to see the boy was going to be penetrated. Entry. Couldn’t make out the words as Bud spoke to the boy, something encouraging, it seemed. My brother’s deep scarlet glans was slick and dripping as he placed it against the tiny hole. He began like a battering ram assaulting the tiny pucker. Again, and again — a small voice cried out softly, Ford was held, though he was trying to turn away. Bud grabbed Ford’s butt cheeks and shoved both thumbs into the tiny hole and began prying the tiny hole open. More soft moans, varying in pitch. The woman shushed Ford. A string of curses as my brother, with brute force alone, stretched the muscles open and shoved the head of his dick into the tiny opening as he continued cursing. Once his head was in, Bud grabbed the camera and held it downward on the joining between the two. That’s when I saw it. Blood. At first it was just a drop glistening in the dim light, then it began coloring the slippery fluids as Bud began with short thrusts into him. Then, the lube became darker with it and it squished, dripped and made a small froth in the boy’s cleft. Ford was moaning softly with every breath, but Bud just pushed his knees back further while the woman held the slender wrists near his shoulders. The small, limp body began to tense, still trying to turn away — why wasn’t he struggling harder and screaming? He’d just been ripped open… I became so nauseated — deeply disturbed by it. I had to turn it off. Was my brother this desperate? Chap was right, Bud and his woman were into the drugs again and looks like they recruited Ford into the same to aid the filming. Aided or needed to control the kid — that was wrong. In the back of my mind I knew there were plenty of men who would buy this and masturbate to the boy’s torture. I didn’t realize how much money and excitement whirled in ever-widening circles from Ford’s force penetration in that moment — I only pictured a lonely man sitting in front of his computer breathing hard. Went to bed and couldn’t sleep thinking about that drop of blood. I felt like I needed to examine Ford’s ass to see — but the doctor had seen the scar. Must be well-healed now, but I wondered when it happened. From the size of Ford, it had been within the last year — eighteen months. I got up and sent an email to Chap — was this video out on the net? … That cheap bastard Chap was banging on the back door at six the next morning, came in and started making coffee while I was in trying to dress. “Hurry up, I got news.” I finished in the bathroom and went to wake Ford, I looked at him differently now. “If I let you suck me…” I remembered, but gently shook his shoulder. “Up, little man. C’mon. Uncle Chap is here this morning.” Opening one eye, “Who’s Uncle Chap?” “A guy that works for me — he’s okay. C’mon.” Chap decided to stay and ride with us to school. Oh, man was I proud – Ford looked good in his new jeans and shirt. Still had the old hat and the sunglasses, but he looked great and stood tall packing his book bag with his lunch. In front of the school, Chap helped Ford down from the truck and made him promise not to tell anyone about the spots on his leg. Ford was grinning with all the attention. … Back at the house, Chap made more coffee. At the kitchen table I explained what happened in the clinic. “Yeah, she asked me about how long Ford was with me. Whacha find out? Have you found his mother?” “Expect a call from Bud today. He got picked up in San Angelo last night with a pipe and a bag — and several more bags — like several kilos. I can’t find the woman — she wasn’t nailed with him. Could be in Zapata or Ojinaga, some place on the border.” “Take a look at this.” I handed Chap the “Entry” video and took him to the living room. Chap couldn’t watch it all the way through either. “Damn – your brother was into that?” “He’s back on the blow – probably needed the money.” “Damn.” He stared at me. “I know it happens, but your brother?” I shook my head, “Look, you need to find out if those tapes are on the net. I may have to put Ford into state care — I don’t have enough security. He’ll be recognized with his coloring. Then, there’s the problem with the trauma and all that…” “Give him to me.” “No. He’s not a toy, and I think he’s been used enough. Jerk.” I sneered. “He needs a real home.” “I can make a real home for him — I like kids.” He sneered and went out to his car for his laptop and sat at the kitchen table searching for Ford’s mother. Sure enough, I got a call from my brother at around eleven. “This fucking court appointed lawyer isn’t worth shit. I’m in the can for life if he’s representing me.” “What’s the charge this time?” I sighed and wondered if he’d be honest with me. “Charges. Possession with intent, I got pinched with a load — um, and several other things. There were a couple of AKAs in the trunk.” Silence — he was running guns as well? “Thanks for leaving the boy with me.” “Oh, yeah. Nice kid, huh?” “Nice home movies.” Silence. “Where’s his mom?” For my own security, I asked. “I don’t know — she didn’t come back to the car when she saw the flashing blue lights.” “Can’t fund your escapades any more. The charges are worse every time…” Staunch voice. “I got the money in an online account. If you can get here, I’ll give you the password…” “You got money?” I was floored. “Plenty enough for bail and a good lawyer. If you can get here tomorrow, I can talk to you privately. After that, they’re transferring me to El Paso.” The thought of a four-hour drive for nothing didn’t sound good. “Are you shittin’ me again?” “No. Not this time.” “What about the kid? I’ve put out a lot of time and effort…” “Take him to the county. Deb’ll find him when she’s ready.” “When are visiting hours?” “Eight to noon. You’re coming, right?” “Yeah, can’t guarantee the time.” “You ol’ Zipper Sex, see you then.” “Humph.” I couldn’t help being born in June. … Chap found the “Entry” video online but couldn’t get to it. He searched the dark web for albino boys and came up with a still from the vid and showed it to me. “Downloaded over 200,000 times in the past month — this is a pay site and a rather exclusive one — they want me to pay to join, then pay per view. The kid’s worth a mint. Even if he only gets a dollar a download, he’s worth almost a quarter of a million.” “Bud said to drop the kid off at the county.” I said, not so happy about it — Ford had enough heartache already in his short life. “Ford’s mom ran off when she saw the police arresting Bud. I’m going to see him tomorrow. He says he has the money for an attorney and bail. I have to pull it out of an online account for him.” “Tomorrow’s Saturday. You gonna take the kid to the jail with you? How wholesome.” He went back online searching for the other videos of Ford. All of a sudden, I was harboring a porn star and hadn’t even asked him if he had other family or friends. But being a porn star doesn’t allow close relationships, I supposed. Mom was gone and it was just me and him. Wasn’t sure if I could take all of the potential problems — crap, he could become a pervert or overly-precocious and spend his years in a mental institution. Did he remember being in those videos or was he too drugged? If he was traumatized, how bad was it? … “I’ll come with you tomorrow — keep him while you’re in the jail.” “Huh?” I asked from underneath a seriously depressive cloud of potential problems. “I’ll babysit Ford while you’re in the jail.” Chap said. “Yeah, okay.” I pulled out the paperwork from Bud’s house and dug around until I found Ford’s birth certificate. No name listed as father. Eight years old and his naked body blasted over the net in worst way. No parents, and alone against the Texas foster care system. My god, was there any hope for him in this world? Later, Chap ate my last microwave dinner and scrounged the cabinets for more. “This isn’t the buffet — why do you always come over here and eat all my food?” I was stewing and in a bad mood deliberating what to do about Ford and checking the security videos. “I’ll go to the store — that way I’ll have something on my account.” “It doesn’t work that way — I’ll take the cash instead.” He just laughed as I left to pick up Ford. … When Ford got in the truck, he was grinning. “I did good today.” He was proud of himself. “Yeah? What happened?” He dug around in his book bag and pulled out a wrinkled sheet of paper with a blue foil star on the top. Math. Subtraction, it looked like. “Perfect score.” I nodded. Was this some kind of foster kid play to get me to like him? My guts told me to hold myself back — yeah, the kid was beautiful, but a possible pot of problems — would he go into drugs or alcohol? Would he go blind with the albinism and have to use a dog and a white cane? These thoughts made me worry for him — but more for myself. He was singing to the radio and looking out the window the rest of the way home, completely unaware of the wickedness his mother and Bud had unleashed with his deflowering. Chap was waiting in the driveway for us to come help carry groceries. He bought pudding cups and devil dogs, lunch meat, lettuce — hadn’t a green vegetable in a long time, fruit and cheeses. Ford ran to his room and came back in just his sox and my long tee shirt on. I’d forgotten to get him shorts, but that was good enough. I heard him rattling around the house for a while, then he came into the kitchen and posted his math test on the refrigerator, then sat at the kitchen table doing homework while Chap arranged the cabinets and freezer. “Chili-cheese fries with a salad for dinner, Boo. Len and I are going into San Angelo tomorrow. Wanna come?” Chap asked Ford. “Why are we going to San Angelo?” “I need to go to the mall. They got an arcade. Have you ever been to an arcade?” “Is it like the county fair?” “Sorta, we’ll check it out while Len takes care of his business.” I actually swept and mopped the kitchen listened to Chap and Ford chatter on about inconsequential things like a blue ox and bat named Stella Luna. They were going online before dinner to see what the YMCA had to offer. Since they cut me out of their loop, I went on my computer and found the mall in San Angelo. Damn, it’s hot and dry down there — I hated that long drive. In my room, I found a bag and loaded some sun block and several water bottles. I wrote up a short document and printed it out, put it in an envelope along with the mug shot Ford’s mother and packed them in the bag as well. Should I tell Ford I was meeting my brother in jail and that his mother fled the scene to avoid arrest? I’d better wait and see what happened. Later, the house started smelling like French fries. Chap let Ford put as much cheese and chili as he wanted on his mountain of fries. I got about ten fries and a large salad and shot Chap a look — he smiled and handed me salad dressing. For the first time in years, my refrigerator had a half-gallon of milk proudly standing beside a bag of perky salad greens. Ford drank a whole glass of the milk before he began devouring his dinner. “Do you have grandparents?” I asked Ford. He stopped eating and thought for a moment. “I used to — a long time ago. That’s what Mom said.” He looked down at his plate, “How are the hounds?” “Darnest thing about that. I went by to feed them and someone came and stole them. Fine dogs. Too bad, but they’re probably with another dog lover now.” I said, focusing on my salad. “Mom’s gonna be mad.” He went back to eating. “Did you have a favorite dog?” Chap asked and that started a conversation about all the goofy things Chap did with his dogs, teaching them to dance and sing. “Your dog will lick you if you rub some chicken grease on your skin. Mom showed me…” Ford added. “A dog might be good security around here.” Chap said. “No dogs. No cats, birds, fish — nothing that craps. I have my hands full now.” When they were finished eating, they went into play games on Chap’s computer while I cleaned up. My cabinets were full, boxes and cans all kinds of food — Chap must have spent over three-hundred dollars but he owed me at least that for all the mooching. Yes, I was suspicious about all the sudden flurry of generosity from Chap and yes, I knew he was trying to get next to Ford if they weren’t already best buds. … After I cleaned the kitchen, I told Ford to shower. The self-appointed supervisor of the universe, Chap told me it was Friday and he didn’t need to clean up. I heard them laughing, probably at me. “Get into the bathroom. Now! You know the rule.” I ordered but they just laughed harder. In the living room I surrendered about the shower, not wanting an argument, “C’mon. Let’s change your bandages.” I finally wrangled him off Chap’s lap and into the bathroom and lifted him onto the cabinet by the sink. The spots were disappearing, and his smooth, pale skin was returning. “Are you going to send me away — is that why you asked about my grandparents?” “I was wondering who’s looking for you. Don’t you have any other family?” He shook his head. “Just Mom.” “Try to remember if she talked about anyone like your biological father or his family…” He unwrapped the clean bandages and handed them to me. As I finished the last one, I lifted him off the cabinet he leaned forward and kissed me on my cheek. “Don’t send me away.” “Don’t you want to be with someone else – someone who knows you?” “Like who?” … I had to chase Chap out of the house that night. He lived in a small camper out by the state park with the snowbirds. I wouldn’t want to go home if I had to live in a travel trailer either, but out he went. Ford came into the living room and sat next to me. “Wanna see a movie tonight?” I asked, taking in a nose full of boy scents and chili. “Whatever.” He was rather quiet, speaking softly. I looked around through the channels and found a documentary on meerkats. He climbed on my lap and leaned his head against my chest, watching out the corner of his eye. During the commercial break, I took his slender body in my arms, “Do you feel alone?” He nodded and turned his face into my chest. “I hate my life — it always gets worse. It’s nice here — but it’s not going to last. Mom said to stay in the moment, but it still hurts when I think it won’t last — it never does.” I felt a little moisture from his eyes. “I’m a freak. I’ll always be a freak — I always get thrown away.” Holding him against me I turned off the meerkats and turned the light off. In the dark, silent room, I heard soft sniffles. “Do you feel so alone it hurts?” I whispered. He nodded. “How do you know?” I pressed his head against me. “All I have is my brother — he only comes around when he wants something. My parents and grandparents — all gone. Sometimes I feel so alone it hurts.” “It hurts like yellow.” He sniffled. “Yellow, huh?” I didn’t understand that. “Let’s go to bed and close our eyes and make all the yellow go away. We’re going to San Angelo tomorrow. Have you been there before?” “I want to go back home — maybe my mom came back.” “You have to come with me. Chap won’t have anyone to play with and we have to keep him busy so he doesn’t get in trouble.” That was the moment I decided to keep Ford with me till the semester ended as I lay alongside him on till he fell asleep. I tried to imagine what he felt like — moved about pillar to post probably every several months or years. Still he found a moment of joy here and there in his life. A peanut butter-jelly sandwich, a perfect math score, a new pair of jeans. He wasn’t a freak. He was a terribly battered, neglected child and an incredibly resilient boy who happened to be lacking melanin. The more I thought about it, I calmed. He could have robbed me and run away or thrown a tantrum or certainly he had reason to be violent, but he didn’t. He cried to himself — keeping his pain inside. Same way I coped. … I got up early the next morning and laid out cereal and milk. Breakfast was getting to be a habit, then I went to wake Ford. “Shower this morning. Road trip!” I sat on the couch beside him, noticing a tiny tent under his blanket. Cute as the dickens. “I think you’re the bravest boy in the world, do you know that?” He opened his eyes just enough to see me, “I’m not brave. If I was brave, my mom wouldn’t keep leaving.” “You being brave doesn’t make her smart. If you were mine, I’d keep you tied to me; super-glued to my side. Such a beautiful boy.” He turned away. “Freak.” He mumbled. “Put your red tee shirt on today. The freaky-red one, I like red.” I left to make coffee. He called me into the bathroom to put on the ointment and bandages. “Almost gone. That medicine works quick.” We heard Chap banging on the back door. Ford dressed while I let the old rambler in. Chap went straight for the coffee pot with his fancy twenty-ounce travel cup and filled it, then put bread in the toaster and got out the butter and jelly. There were a few ounces of coffee left for me. “Overcast today, maybe we can go to the riverboat.” He told Ford. Ford’s hair was still damp, drawing into curls as it dried. He sat down and looked at the cereal. Without moving his face, he glanced at me. “I don’t want any cereal.” Tears ran down his cheeks and stood to leave. “Sit down and eat.” I didn’t want to deal with a fussy boy, “We have to be on the road after I shower.” He shook his head. Chap and I glanced at each other, puzzled at the kid’s behavior. What kid doesn’t like cereal — the little `o’ kind? I loved the stuff when I was young. “Go shower. I’ll work this out.” Chap said. As I shaved and dressed I smelled toast and heard pop music — why did they always change the station when I wasn’t looking? I knew all the words to the oldies. Whose house was this anyway? As we grabbed our bags and headed to the truck I saw the cereal box in the trash, torn in pieces and glanced at Ford — his eyes were red and swollen but he was eating the last of his cheese-toast. Peculiar thing about the cereal incident, couldn’t understand it. Chap had some old hand-held electronic games and was showing the boy how to play games that beeped often and made tinkling sounds. I felt like the chauffeur while they were having a great time. After a few stops and several snacks, I dropped them off in front of the mall and handed Ford a ten-dollar bill. “Have a good time — stay with Chap. I’ll call when I’m done.” The kid’s eyes and mouth dropped open as he examined the bill quickly and stuffed it in his pocket. Watching them walk inside, I saw Chap had his arm on Ford’s shoulder leaning over to talk to him. I wondered if my brother had been so affectionate with Ford. Probably not. We weren’t raised that way. … The San Angelo jail was small for being the biggest town in the area; I waited alongside the wives and girlfriends of other inmates. We all went in together to a large room with tables and benches. Almost didn’t recognize Bud. He was gaunt, with a gray cast to his skin and his scraggly beard showed quite a bit of gray — his hair long and knotted. He was missing several teeth. Looked bad – several days into his withdrawals probably. We sat at a metal table in what looked like a cafeteria. The furniture was all bolted to the floor. Bud leaned forward as a guard walked past slowly, eyeing us. “Listen to me, Zipper Sex.” “Zipper Sex” has nothing to do with zippers or sex. Zipper-sex meant me, I was born in June — 06. That was the cue for a code we made when we were kids to encode our lock combinations and slip each other information on other kids. Bud was going to give me his password to his online account in our old code. Now I had to memorize the clues as he spoke. “I-I-I, well, never… Both of us, it was the same. For a long time never had no birthday cake. Nothing like that, Zipper Sex.” He paused and repeated himself as I soaked in the images to remember. He continued, “Remember mom hid a quarter in the batter of the cake one time? Whoever got the piece with the quarter got to keep it?” I nodded as the guard walked behind me; I leaned forward to Bud, “I… I-I never. Both of us — no birthday… Yep, you’re right. Never no birthday cake. Nothing like that…” “Zipper Sex.” He added with a serious tone. “Yeah, Zipper Sex. I’ll never change.” He nodded. “There’s an attorney in Austin. Doug Ramirez. Get him.” Whispering, “I-I-I…” I completed the convoluted sentence again. He nodded. “Now what about the kid?” I asked and lifted an eyebrow. “He’s still in school — seems to be doing okay. Took him to the clinic.” I shot Bud a hard look. “Call the county to come pick him up. Jeez, just call a cop — they’ll take him downtown and he’ll get a foster family. You don’t have to do a thing, just say you can’t find his mother.” I pulled the envelope out of my pocket and shoved the document in front of him. “You throwing him away? My god, I saw the `Entry’ video…” I stared at him, “How could you do it?” “He doesn’t remember anything — a couple of X-man, a little benzocaine, a little acid.” “The doctor noticed the rip during his checkup. I could be questioned – that would lead to you. No way I’m taking that fall. Sign the paper and date it.” That got the pen moving as he signed the paper attesting that he was the common-law stepfather to Ford and I was taking custody of the child “until further notice.” I told him I had the videos — “Be damn glad I haven’t turned that one “Entry” over to vice. You know you got your appendectomy scar on the tape?” I asked the guard who’d been standing behind me to witness the signature. “I’m not a notary.” “Help a kid, just sign that you saw this asshole sign his name.” I noticed his badge number. I had what I needed to get into the online account holding the e-currency. All the money from the video sales was available – suddenly, Ford was rich. A dentist and an eye doctor weren’t a problem now. Then, I slipped the mug shot of Deborah Smithson across the table. He nodded, “That was taken a long time ago, she looks a little different now.” I felt lighter as I made my way down the hall and out of the building. I’d had enough of my brother and considered myself keeping him safe and out of my hair — I didn’t give a shit about his attorney. He’d have to make do, and as far as I was concerned, Bud could stay in jail till he rotted and he wouldn’t touch another boy. No more enabling. The police station was next door. I asked to turn in a missing person’s report at the front desk and gave them the photo from the mug shot. “Deborah Smithson.” I didn’t know any more about her. I left the mug shot with my name and number as the uncle seeking the mother of my nephew. If anyone asked, I’d say I didn’t know if the child was my brother’s or a step child… No one asked. Then, I wrote down the code on the envelope as I repeated what Bud told me. 11152406131973201977 on bitcoin under Bud’s name. All done, and wasn’t going to see the inside of another jail again, I called Chap. “Ready to go?” “Come into the arcade, we’re having a blast.” Loud electronic noises, like pinball machines sang in the background. “The kid beat me three times already.” … We all played pinball together. Before I realized how long we’d been there, it was noon. We had a blast for a few hours — I hadn’t played pinball in years. At the food court, we got fish and chips. Teens were everywhere chattering, flirting and playing around. I noticed Ford watching them, smiling as he helped himself to my lunch after he’d eaten all of his. “Have you ever been to the mall before?” “We never stayed long. Mom was lifting stuff.” He continued watching the kids. Because I’m in security, I noted men standing to the side or sitting alone at some of the tables watching the youth. Several glanced at Ford’s bush of hair and slender form. I wondered if they’d seen his videos. “I turned in a missing person’s report on your mom.” I told Ford. “They’ll call if they find her.” He only nodded, enjoying the music and the crowd but he remembered something — and pulled out a strip of stickers and a pile of small plastic figurines of popular monsters. “Look what I won. I have to take them to school — show my friends.” I took a photo with my phone — those prizes probably wouldn’t last a day in the chaos of the classroom. Chap and Ford fell asleep on the way home and I was able to put the radio on the oldies to get us through Big Spring. As I drove, I considered Ford’s future. If I kept him, I had to increase my income, get health insurance and a bigger place. I had a feeling I’d need more security. How did I know if his mother wouldn’t come looking for him with a gang of her friends? He was income to her and possibly would support her habit and take it up himself. What would they do with him if they found him? Seems like I had enough legal standing to keep him — and I wondered how much it would cost me if anyone challenged my custody of the boy. Most of his life instruction wasn’t the best. This leather neck actually took his oaths seriously and knew right from wrong clearly. I was a watchdog for people who lived with the quality of their character in the gray zone. Ford didn’t seem inclined toward criminality — not yet. After the next rest stop, Chap took the wheel with Ford beside him on the front street. I couldn’t nap with the pop music blaring from the front seat. I had more time to think. I could parlay all these changes into something good. Ford wasn’t that much trouble, and I could get the help he needed if I drained the bitcoin account slowly and paid cash for what he needed. A single man adopting a family member — there’d be a lot of sympathy for that to boost my business. Yeah, maybe I’d shoot for a big piece of the county pie with a well-worded proposal to improve their security. With a big contract in hand, I could swing a mortgage for a house with a fenced yard, and maybe even get a dog for Ford and I could afford a decent boyfriend. If I made enough and managed things the right way this might work out well. When we got home, Chap wanted me to see some of the programs at the Y. Ford was excited and sat on my lap as we read through the descriptions and requirements. Baseball, soccer and football got nixed — all the practices were outside during daylight hours. Volleyball, gymnastics and dance didn’t appeal to him. I tried moving his decision toward the week night classes — my work was the heaviest on the weekends. Hard decision to make, though. I took the reins of the conversation and suggested we try Family Friday nights. All the kids who showed up would be involved in a number of games and activities that changed every twenty minutes or so; kids could come and go throughout the evening while their parents used the gym. “Let’s see what that’s about — seven to ten at night. Hmmm.” “Sounds like fun, I’ll be here at five.” Chap said, I ignored him. “What do you think, Ford?” “Yeah.” He was looking at the photos of the pool and the gym. “It says I have to bring a water bottle.” “We got that, and Chap’s gonna get you some sweats. Okay?” He put his arms around my neck and I felt his tender lips giving me a light kiss, then move to speak, “You’re gonna come watch me, right?” “On the front row and I promise not to yell too loud. Will you let me take some photos?” I felt his head nod. For some reason I suspected he’d asked that because he thought I might dump him on Friday night. … I had to make up for lost time that Saturday and figured I’d be scanning videos until midnight to keep the quality of my work above par if I wanted to land a big contract. Chap and Ford left to get some work-out gear. After several hours of scanning and making reports, I stood up and stretched. Looks like potential embezzling going on at one of the businesses. An office worker came after hours and got on one of the computers with a list in hand and opened the financial records. I emailed the business owner with a recommendation to an outside accountant in Abilene. After another hour, Ford and Chap came in, laughing and singing with several bags. I noticed Ford had new shoes — sleek with reflective stripes and bright neon green shoelaces. Much fancier than the one’s I’d bought. “Dinner?” Chap and Ford were talking about watching wrestling and trying moves on each other. I had to shoot Chap a mean look to get him back in line. We had popcorn for dinner and I left them to clean up and go to bed, signaling Chap to stay the night. I had izmit escort to see how much money was in Bud’s bitcoin account and start making plans. Scanning tapes, I heard giggling and laughing at bedtime but Ford was tired. He brushed his teeth, showing Chap his new toothbrush. They did the ointment thing and made his bed on the couch. … “Glad the guy that decided to call homosexual men `gay’ never met you.” Chap said when he came into my office at midnight. “Yeah? Why is that?” “We’d all be called `boring.'” “Back off, jerk. I got responsibilities. Open your computer — here’s the password.” After a lot of review, we entered the password and opened the e-account. The balance was up to almost three hundred thousand in US dollars. Getting it out and useable would be a whole other affair, and rather detailed, but we set up a series of accounts to drain the funds slowly without drawing attention from the IRS. They could freeze the account if there were a lot of large withdrawals. Since the IRS didn’t know who was drawing the money out, any taxes would be Bud’s responsibility. Ha! Another twenty to thirty — he’d never know freedom again. “Been following any of the local politicians on their trysts lately?” I asked. “Why?” “I’m need a bigger house — three or four bedrooms, two bath and a yard. Something with a fence. I have a feeling someone’s going to recognize Ford. I’m going to try to keep him — maybe send him to college with the money.” “He’ll need plastic surgery first. Can you image a child porn star on campus?” We talked for a while. He knew of a family about to face legal problems and a divorce, “I’ll check it out. The old man is going to need all the cash he can get his hands on, and quick.” Then he stood and smiled at me, “Shower?” … Moist skin, fresh from the shower, small, clear domes of droplets I licked from his clavicle. In the dark steamy air, I waited while he got a towel and dried me lightly — this was the only reason I kept the guy around. What he did next was always incredible, though I hated most of it: He sat on the toilet with me in front of him and I handed him the lube. He rubbed his face on my resting rod and sniffed me. “Tell me.” He whispered. I clenched my butt cheeks together as tightly as I could as his fingers tried prying them apart. “No, I won’t do say it anymore — it’s a lie. Why do you make me lie to you? Why don’t we just go straight to bed like everyone else?” “I pretend it’s true — it makes everything better. C’mon, tell your lover what you want.” He pinched my butt hard. I jumped and gasped. I hated lying like this — went against everything inside me. But Chap had a talented dick — “Give it to me honey.” I whispered without enthusiasm. No action. “Fuck me. Hurry up.” “I’ll be the one doing the ordering. Talk nice.” Shifting my weight to one leg, “Lube me, suck me and fuck me.” I hated saying it, “Please?” “Give me a little romance.” He was sniffing my pubic hair — I could feel his tongue and the rough stubble of his face on my ball sac. “Lube my ass, I want your dick.” “Not enough.” He began grabbing my foreskin in his lips. His tongue was warm and wet as he flicked and pushed the tip into my slit. My shaft was gaining girth, I touched his hair. Damn, he was so demanding for thirty minutes of physical release. Why did I have to go through all this crap for a fuck? My left testicle was in his mouth, and he nipped and tugged while his fingers rubbed the lube around my hole. I bit my lip and said it, “I love you. I need your cum.” “What was that?” He mumbled with a mouth full of my tingling left ball. I didn’t want to say it again. I didn’t love him. It was a lie. “Ow!” He bit a little too hard at the same time he pushed his middle finger in my hole. “Chap, let’s go to the bedroom, and be quiet or we’ll wake Ford.” “Beg me.” His lips were at my glans. He stopped. “Beg me, big boy.” “Please, fuck me. I love you.” I shut up — it wouldn’t come out of my mouth again tonight. I didn’t love him — I tolerated him for weekly sex. “Say it again, like you mean it.” I thought for a moment, “I love your cock. Breed me.” Then I remembered, “Please?” “You know you’re gonna get yours. Don’t know why you won’t give me a some of mine…” He said, stood and gripped me in his arms, kissing me. “I know you love me. Why you make it so hard on yourself?” He pressed his hard shaft against my thigh. Damn, he felt good — masculine — so confident, strong and clear about what he wanted. Toned, hard muscles moving against my skin, tight waist — heavily haired — all man. God it was rich and my mind could only think about the moment he shoved himself into me. That was like a drug. I could forget everything and just ride on the currents of sensation, some painful, but always at the same destination — extreme pleasure. In that moment I needed him and he knew it. Why wasn’t I strong enough to boot the guy out of my life completely? Weren’t relationships supposed to have some equality? Wrapping my arms around his chest, under his arms, I smelled him become sexually aroused — anxious. He knew what he was doing and played me along in this embarrassing scenario for almost four years. My lips searched for his, but he grabbed the hair on the back of my head and tugged my head back, kissing, biting and sucking along my neck. On trembling knees, he led me to my bedroom. “No slapping tonight, you’ll wake the kid.” I reminded him. I heard him chuckling, “Let’s see how quiet you can be.” He turned on the small lamp beside the bed and watched me, his incredible rod that would be up my ass nodded, dripping — like it was teasing me. “You’re gonna get bred like an alley cat in heat. You’re gonna beg me to stop.” He winked, “but you like begging, don’t you? You like begging because you love me — you need me.” “Fuck that shit. Get to it.” I whispered and twisted his nipple. “Sex without love? I’m no animal, tell me again Juliet.” “I love you. Now get to work.” “Such a romantic.” He twisted my arm behind my back and shoved me on the bed, face down. I hated it like this, but it was always his choice. After he popped me on the side of my head. “Tell me.” My guts were twitching knowing what would happen soon, “Please. I love you. I need your cock.” I said into the sheet. Chap always gave me a long tease and a rushed fuck. I lifted my butt as he dragged his rod against my cleft, up and down, giving me a swift prod occasionally while I heard his breaths speed. “Hurry up!” My voice was muffled by the mattress. He grabbed the back of my hair, pulling my head up again. “Excuse me? What did you just say?” The pop on the side of my head caught my ear this time and it burned. Damn, I just aroused his inner-de Sade, I was in for it now. “Please?” Reaching between my legs, he grabbed and snatched out a patch of pubic hair. “E-e-e-e,” I grunted through gritted teeth and he wouldn’t let my head fall forward until he’d removed several more patches along my cleft. Then, he bit me on my neck, down my spine and along my sides. “Don’t do it…” But he’d already started biting on my cleft — no rimming — painful nips where he’d grab my skin in his teeth and shake his head. “Please. I love you. I need you.” I moaned to make him stop the hair-pulling. My ass was ready, I needed that rub he always gave me; I was leaking heavily — my pool of pre-cum was spreading underneath me and I’d have to sleep in it. Standing, he grabbed my ankles and crossed them rapidly; my body turned over. Now, my sensitive underbelly was exposed to him. He kneeled over me, then on his hands and knees holding my arms down, he began sucking my nipples. Couldn’t help but flinch, it was so good — until he bit. Sharp stings made me jerk, a sheen of sweat oozed over my entire body. “Please, please.” I tried lifting my knees to urge him to fuck me. “Please. I need you.” My sweat was dripping off my face, “Please?” He stopped and looked down at me. “Tell me again, lover.” Wrenching my arms from his hands, I held his face. He was a handsome man — for a split second I wondered how many other men he forced into this dom-drama… “I love you. I need you. Hurry!” I paused, “Please?” Leaning back on his heels between my legs, I opened myself and closed my eyes. This was so humiliating but I only had a few more revulsions left. I felt his glans leaking and prodding me on my ball sac. “Look at me.” He demanded in a rough whisper. Finally, the big angry-red helmet-shaped glans was at my ass. I took a deep breath, pulled my knees back with my hands and looked at him. “I love you. I need you. Please fuck me.” Damn! He rammed against my hole till he was in and kept going. I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut until it became bearable enough to remember what was coming. Those moments of pain actually shifted my arousal into high gear. Exhaling deeply with every breath and tensing my abs I was through the worst. As my breaths became short and fast, I looked up to see Chap biting his lower lip with his eyes closed. When his hands shoved mine aside, he pushed my knees to my ears, leaning hard into me – doubling me over tightly. Damn hard to breathe with your ass in the air like that. Shifting his knees to get better aim, he pounded me like he wanted to ram all the way through my body. I was stretched tight around him and looked up at him and gripped his rod with my ass as hard as I could. His back tensed for a split second and he looked at me and pounded harder. “I love you.” I whispered — he was close to cumming. Keeping himself deep inside me – thrust. Pause. Thrust. The sensation of splitting open as his cum shot inside caused a metallic taste in my mouth. Then he hunched forward keeping himself deep. Rushes of heat inside me salved the splitting sensation, and my anxious, frantic cum rushed up and out, splattering on my chest. Then, he relaxed and dropped on me, limp — still breathing hard. For some reason, I always embraced him afterward and kissed his neck. Must be the endorphins. I savored that moment of intimacy with another man. When he nuzzled his face into my neck, I looked over his muscled shoulders, damp with sweat and saw Ford watching us. Grabbing the sheet, I shoved Chap off me and covered our nakedness. “Why are you up?” “I heard noise.” He walked toward the bed and climbed up beside me. “Can I sleep here?” Chap lifted his head, “Get over here and go to sleep.” Just that quickly, he turned the light out and snuggled the boy between us. In the dark, I saw the glimmer of his opened eyes admiring Ford’s hair and skin. He kissed Ford on his cheek and glanced at me, then closed his eyes. Soon, both of them were snoring. I went to shower and slept on the couch. There were going to be some new rules in my house. … It was a lazy Sunday morning, but I got up early, made coffee and was still somewhat perplexed about the cereal issue. But I picked up the dirty laundry and started the wash. Then, I sat and had coffee and considered scrambling eggs, damn if Chap hadn’t bought bacon. As I fried it up, they woke up and went to the bathroom. I heard them peeing together. My blood pressure was rising — he was becoming awfully familiar for being a pseudo-uncle. “Ford, you have to stay on the couch at night.” I barked as soon as they came in the kitchen. “Okay.” He didn’t seem too upset about that rule. “Chap, no bed sharing with anyone under the age of eighteen again.” “Okay.” “Now what’s this cereal business about? Do you want cereal or a bowl of water on the back step?” I sounded like a short-order cook on a rampage. Chap got up to get his coffee, but glanced at Ford, “That cereal box is yellow. It’s also the same kind of box he was told to pack his things in when he left a foster home. Damn dirty trick — they were telling him to leave everything important to him. There were some harsh words, and it hurt my boy’s feelings. He doesn’t like that color yellow, and he doesn’t want to see the cereal box again. It still hurts.” He went to Ford and kissed his head. “Do you want cereal from the plastic bag?” “Can I have some bacon too?” He looked up at Chap. “No problem.” Chap whipped out the bag of cereal, filled a bowl and covered it with sugar and milk. “There ya go. Now, daddy Len, is the bacon done yet?” He looked at me with a grin. That shot me out of the saddle for a moment, but I grabbed the saddle horn and slipped my foot in the stirrup again. “Scrambled or over easy?” I asked Chap. After breakfast, Chap asked to take Ford down to the Y while I worked — they wanted to check out the place first. There was some whispering going on between them and Ford disappeared and came back to show me his new jock strap. Damn, they made them that small? He strutted around the kitchen for me and I inspected the elastic. “Does he really need one?” I asked Chap. “Who knows but they come in his size — I guess they have a purpose. I think it’s a good habit — a guy’s got to take good care of his junk…” He snapped the elastic on the leg band, surprising Ford. “Get in your sweats.” Watching out the window as they went to Chap’s car, I felt some pride. There was a beautiful boy in new black sweats and neon shoes smiling and going to check out an exercise program. Ford had his hoodie up and sunglasses and he was beautiful to me. So pale, so strong and so beautiful. … The next week I got several collect calls from Bud. I didn’t accept charges; calls terminated. Not one bit of regret about it. Not a bit. Hadn’t heard anything about Ford’s mother so I focused on my plan to improve my income — I wanted, no I needed a bigger house. One bedroom for my office, one for me and another for Ford. Two baths would be good. … Friday nights we went to the Y and I sat in the bleachers among a scattering of mothers watching the kids run relays and dance to jazz music with a leader. Yeah, Ford looked good, jumping and running then the children played volleyball or low-hoop basketball, all kinds of games and exercise. It was all loud and lots of balls and brightly colored equipment — even a parachute for some odd activities. That was a good decision — he enjoyed the games and the other kids. I met a few parents and found out what “helicoptering” was about. I had reason to good reason to hover. … Chap, who had been an all-too-frequent visitor lately, came in with news about a house in a short sale. “Impending divorce, and it’s going to be a knock-down-drag-out event.” He told me. We drove by the house while Ford was at school. Big lot, two-car garage with an apartment above, four-bedroom, three bath and a huge kitchen that opened into a den and out onto a wide patio Chap explained. The neighborhood was much more upscale than I was used to, but with a third of an acre, I figured I could tolerate snooty neighbors. I wanted to make an offer on the house, especially if the owner was desperate for funds. Chap and I sat down and crunched the numbers. If Chap took the garage and apartment, by percentage of square footage we figured out his contribution. He would be co-owner with me and move out of his camping trailer as well as contribute to the down payment. I was somewhat leery. “You have some kind of plan for Ford? I’m not letting him get back into another situation where he’s going to be hurt.” “I love the boy. He’s a lot like me when I was a kid. He’s smart and he’s got spunk.” “You were groomed as a kid?” “Not me. Ford’s a normal boy who needs some affection and attention — like all boys. Actually, he likes doing all the kid stuff — exploring and discovering new things. He just needs a place to be himself, learn who he is and enjoy a few years of play.” Chap came behind my chair. “I need a rimming today. How about a little play — with me?” “With a boy in the house, I think it’s better we — uh, conclude our relationship. You’ll have to stay in your apartment.” I felt my fortitude slipping as that familiar itch starting behind my balls. “And all that begging and lying for sex — I’m tired of the way you push me around.” “Yeah? Well what kind of relationship are you going to find in this backwater town? Mr. Sargent-Major, who’s going to want a boring, anal-retentive ex-marine? C’mon, you’re lucky to have me this semper fi.” He kissed me. “You’re going to need me if you keep the kid, you’ll worry yourself into hives again. All that bitcoin, with more coming in equates to an Emmy if they had one for kiddie-porn. I’m the only non-perv in town willing to take on a man with a boy who has a hot video online.” That stopped me cold. “I don’t love you and I don’t want you around Ford. You’ve got a reputation.” “I ain’t hanging around forever. Think about it daddykins.” He paused, “And when was the last time you asked your twink for ID? That kid told me he was eighteen and looked twenty. It was all settled out of court so I don’t have a record. I was raised here, and I won’t leave because of another family’s irrational shame about their gay son. Got my own office and proud to be working — making a good income in case you haven’t noticed — highest priced private eye in the area with more work than I can handle.” He leaned and rubbed his stubble on my neck, under my ear. “Let’s play.” He whispered. Being close to his body made me so incredibly aroused. Must be his scent. “Not now. Got to go pick up Ford from school.” I could tolerate him a little longer, if he stayed in the garage apartment; I’d have to make another rule or several. … Chap and I waited in a line of trucks and old SUVs to pick up Ford. Mostly the same vehicles, same parents. Scanning the perimeter of the playground I noticed an old short-wheel base Chevy van parked. It stood out because it the Louisiana license plates — blue and yellow. I took a photo of it — the bitcoin account had increased by fifty-thousand in the last two months. Ford was a hot item on the net, I wondered if one of the viewers had spotted him. “Go get Ford at the door today.” I told Chap. Just a funny feeling I’d developed in the military — better see what was going on before it got out of hand. The bell rang and Chap was almost knocked down as the kids rushed from the building. Ford ran to him immediately, and they came to the car. We drove by the house we planned to make an offer on. “Do you like the house?” I asked Ford. “Who’s gonna live there?” “Me, you and Chap’s gonna stay in the garage apartment.” I looked over the yard; two big oaks, and an ancient Mesquite tree at the back of the lot; hedges and a big, covered patio. Couldn’t see it all, but the decorative split-rail fencing around the lot would have to be replaced with a six-foot cedar fence with several discreet cameras placed under the eaves of the old ranch-style house. “What about my mom?” “We’ll work it out when she shows up.” I sensed some anxiety, “Would you like your own room?” “Nah.” Chap whispered something to him. Ford grinned, “Super-cool!” “What are you two talking about?” “Climbing trees and a swing.” Chap said, smiling — he was lying, I could tell. … Ford did his homework as he ate dinner. It was Friday — he had to finish his homework before we could go to the Y. Chap worked out while I hovered over Ford from the bleachers. Tonight, the kids started with tumbling and gymnastic moves on vinyl-covered foam mats. They walked low balance-beams and enjoyed bouncing around on the foam. When they were running wind sprint races back and forth, Chap came in to watch. I glanced around the room — mostly the same crew of parents. It bothered me that I kept seeing faces looking through the slender strip of plastic on the doors to the gym, but that was just my suspicious nature. Probably brothers and sisters looking for their siblings. By the time Ford was finished, he and Chap were bursting with energy, so they jogged around the parking lot before we left. There was a trail with some kind of special finish on the jogging path. Pulling the car up to the exit, I sat waiting for them, watching them in the rearview mirrors when I noticed that old Chevy van again. I got another photo. Maybe it was another parent from Ford’s school, but the Louisiana license plate made me doubt it. I fixed dinner while Ford cleaned up. I started the laundry before we sat down to eat. Chap caught me sniffing that tiny jock strap, “You’re gonna owe me tonight.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m not going through all those submissive gyrations for you. Tonight, we’re going to do what I want.” “Yeah, what would that be?” “Gonna get your brains fucked out, and you better not say a word.” “Oh yeah?” He was trying to intimidate me — always gaming me. Ford was tired and only ate a little before he decided to go to bed. I put him on the couch, glad he was comfortable enough to fall asleep quickly. “Let’s see how loose your brains are — you’re gonna get `em fucked out your ears and all over the floor.” I leaned over and grabbed his arm. “You can beg me to stop tonight, if you want. Won’t help.” The jerk wouldn’t kiss me. He wouldn’t look at me, stroke me or help me in any way. In bed, I was out of breath just trying to pry his knees apart. “Enough. You’re like trying to fuck a bag of potatoes.” “Do you need me?” “I need some cooperation.” I didn’t fall back into begging again. His body went rigid, rebuffing my every move. I kept trying to get to his ass — he loved a good fingering. As I took a break to catch my breath, “I saw you updated your profile on the dating app… You gonna get some kind of miniature ruler tattooed on your dick? Nine and a half inches — gimme a break. You’re going to be a big disappointment to someone — and don’t ask me to babysit Ford while you explain your lack of length to the sucker who falls for that.” My excitement deflated as I considered that. Lots of gay men don’t like bi or previously-married men with children, and yeah, the nine-and-a-half inches was a stretch. Falling on the bed beside him, I knew my fun for the evening was finished. “Take your damn profile down — you don’t want anyone else and we know it.” I lay in a sweat, humiliated again as Chap pulled me to him, kissing my neck. “I love you anyway.” I think he was snickering. “I’ll give you another chance later, little darlin’.” He fingered my balls and kissed me deeply as I heard footsteps and a long pee in the bathroom. Soon the bed shook. Ford was climbing on the bed snuggling next to me. His back along my belly and his cleft at my cock, he hadn’t even asked… Pulling him close, I kissed his hair. Chap’s arm came over me, embracing us. That was the only part of the evening that felt good. … I woke alone smelling coffee brewing and heard cartoons. Time to get up — took a few extra minutes in the shower thinking of that damn Chap controlling me the way he does. Why do I always fall for it? Reheating my oatmeal with raisins, the guys came through on their way to the community center, then to the library while I went to work. “I’m sending you a photo. Check the license plate out for me.” “I should start billing you.” He smirked and handed me the broom and grinned, “Sweep up my brains.” “Fuck off. I saw the van at the school and then again at the Y last night.” He only nodded, “We’re bringing lunch.” I put myself in overdrive to finish working and went to the net and looked for some kind of format for a letter of offer to the owners of the house. Checking the value and the taxes, wrote up a letter of offer, then found the name of the owner. Retired county commissioner — the same one that got Chap in trouble several years ago… Hmmm. The guys pulled in and didn’t come in the house — it was overcast. They were unloading some things from Chap’s car — a small hibachi and a few paper bags. Chap showed Ford how to build a fire and start the charcoal, then they pulled out corn on the cob, still in the husks and pulled the husks down, stripping all the strings from the ear, then rewrapped the husks and put them on the grill. Ford had a bright orange soccer ball — he was nudging it up and down the drive while Chap came in the house. “Sup, bro?” “Did you find the license plate? Who owns that van?” “Some guy from outside of Lake Charles — could have stolen plates though. The owner has some kind of parts recycling business — auto parts. Looks like he’s got a record, petty theft, drugs, but he’s no problem — he’s probably past that now that he’s older.” He opened a package of hot dogs and brought out coleslaw. “Ford was so funny today. You know he’s got a great sense of humor…” “Chap, I’m in charge here. I’m supposed to be teaching him how to build a fire and getting the soccer thing going. You’re butting in where you’re not wanted.” “Not going to tell you again — you need me.” He stood behind me, grabbing my left nipple and giving it a pinch, “For more than a good fuck.” Ford and Chap had gone to his trailer and hiked around through the park, climbing on the rocks — exploring the play structures before they brought which was great. They cleaned the kitchen for me and went to nap on the couch watching sports until I finished working. I sent the offer on the house to Chap for review later. On the back porch, I cleaned up the mess with the hibachi and was hosing the ashes off the slab when I heard a car come down the street slowly. “Damn neighbor who always complained about my xeriscaping…” It wasn’t. It was van with the Louisiana license plates. He found out where Ford lived. Inside the house, “I think that old man has spotted Ford. He just drove past.” My stomach was tense, and I wanted to vomit, but headed for my closet and got out my snub nose .38, made sure it was loaded. “We gotta get to a safe place. We’re sitting in the open here…” Chap went to the window. “I’m going outside for a while. You stay here.” “Where’re you going?” “Gotta check this out.” “What?” He was gone. … Looking in on Ford, I realized I was going to have to tell him something about his videos on the internet. That meant some kind of explanation of porn and the drugs — that would destroy his love for his mother. How could I do that without degrading his tender spirit? I’d tried to build his confidence and pride — and it was working. Now, I’d have to tear it down — but I couldn’t go to the police — I didn’t want to go to the police. They’d take him into the system. That was the moment I decided to give him enough clear information so he could help me keep him safe. Had to think about it, but I couldn’t lie to him and withhold the information about the danger he was in. The best thing I could do in the moment was to up my income – I had to get that house, secure it and keep myself and Ford safe. About an hour later, I heard Chap at the back door — he came in my office grinning. “What happened?” “Where’s the gun?” I handed it to him, and he put it on the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet, over the refrigerator. “The old man says he’s looking for a place to park for the night. On his way to the old town of Chalk –old boom town south of Big Spring — looking for old jars, glass — something to sell on line.” “How did you find out?” “Worked up a light sweat jogging up the alley and around the block, then I pulled up my hood and jogged up beside him – asked if he had car trouble. Said I’d call a local mechanic for him. You know, playing the good ol’ boy – real casual and easy. He’s had night vision `nocs in the passenger seat and a notebook. Looked like he was taking notes with times; dates. The watchers are being watched.” He stripped his damp clothing off. “Shower?” He tousled my hair, “You owe me.” “We have to tell Ford he’s worth a mint to the most perverse people in the world. Hell of a thing to tell a kid, but he’s got to work with us. He’s never had much of a childhood, and now — well, he never will.” Chap came to bed with me, “It’ll work out. He’s got — what? Two or three weeks left in school. We’ll make it so he’s with one of us or in the classroom until we can get things squared away.” “Wonder how many people are looking for Ford…” He leaned over and kissed me, “It’s going to be okay. Keep that gun away from Ford. Don’t even tell him you have it. I’ve heard kids who’ve had hard lives can — um, self-harm sometimes.” We lay still for a long time, embraced and thinking of what needed to be done until we were secure. Yeah, I knew that I could be easily taken out for a prize like Ford, or rather Ford’s body. “Len, you know this is only going to last until he’s a year or two past puberty. His value on the market will drop once he starts looking like a man. He’ll become another joe, like us.” “Even with his looks?” “He can sell his looks on the legitimate market when he’s eighteen — model or something like that.” Chap sat up, “You got some nails — like roofing nails?” “Probably in the junk drawer in the kitchen, or in the laundry room — look in the tool box. What are you going to do?” “Secure the neighborhood. Stay here.” He dressed quickly and brought Ford into the bedroom and put him in bed with me. “Do I need the gun?” “No.” He left. About twenty minutes later I heard him come back in the house and got up to meet him in the kitchen. He was on the phone with someone. “Yeah. Yeah. On Arroyo Street, 1500 block.” He paused. “Been there all day. Not sure but he could be a dealer, but maybe a vagrant. Several of the neighbors are upset about it — wondering what’s going on — he may be a burglar.” He winked at me. “Could you check it out for us?” He listened for a few moments. “Thanks Dave, I owe you one.” He hung up. “What did you do?” “Sneaked behind the van and slipped a couple of nails into the tread of the back tires. When the cops ask the old man to move along, he’ll start the leaks. By the time he’s near the interstate the cops will have his car towed, probably. Most vehicles only have one spare and you can’t leave the vehicle on an onramp or the side street. He’ll have to go to the police station and probably get questioned –The old man won’t admit anything, but it bought us some time.” Chap kissed me. “We’ll worry about the rest in the morning — he’s out of the neighborhood tonight and the cops have his information.” I went back to bed with Ford while Chap looked out the window. He came back to bed grinning. “Need me now?” … The next morning, I’d worked out a plan. It would be expensive, but we’d be safe. “We can stay in the hotel on the east side of town. I’ll pull Ford out of school. I’m getting some bad vibes about someone watching us.” “You’ll stay in my trailer. Damn few people out at the park now, and you’ll keep Ford in school. Let him finish the semester — all the parties and field trips, he’s earned that. Make a short move for a short time till we work this out.” That antsy, suspicious feeling followed me, but we finished the semester from Chap’s trailer and it wasn’t so bad. Ford loved it — everything in the trailer was the perfect size for a nine-year-old. We were able to hike in the late evenings and early mornings. … On Sunday nights, we began pulling small amounts out of the bitcoin account and through several other accounts — down payment on the house. Chap told me he didn’t kocaeli escort want his name mentioned before the sale. After the deal was closed, he would take his responsibility and begin paying his part of the mortgage and insurance payments with his name listed as co-owner. Come to find out, the reason he knew the house would be up for sale was because the garage apartment was where he was caught with the underaged boy. Seems like the county commissioner was a boy-lover and had used his gay son for years. The wife found out and was willing to take a settlement with a divorce to keep from filing charges against her husband for with a non-disclosure statement about child sexual abuse. I wanted the county commissioner’s name on the sex offender registry, but I was willing to keep my mouth shut to get the house for a rock-bottom price for the security I could create around Ford and me. Chap started sitting with me in the bleachers on Friday nights. He convinced me to make an offer to secure the evidence room at the sheriff’s department — write up a proposal to secure one room? But he drew out a diagram of the room and how things were organized and sorted. “I’ll give it to my friend Dave. It’s been years the drugs and valuables have been filched from that area. Give it to me, and let’s see if we can stop the thefts — the prosecutors and attorneys are stymied when the evidence has disappeared. We can install the equipment at night. Skeleton crew in that area.” What did I have to lose? Simple trip switch on the door and several small cameras linked to my computer. I wrote it up. That job alone would double my income if they accepted my proposal and kept me on, and I decided to offer the PD the same kind of system. I was on a roll — turned in notice to my landlord and started packing what little I had. … Toward the end of the month, the deal on the house came through. It would take several more weeks to get our security put in and the fence installed — he’d have to stay inside until then. This might be tough. The old house needed some upgrades — new windows with blinds, solar panels, and Chap swung a deal for a hot tub to be installed on the patio. Ford was anxious about possibly being left behind until we made him help order the furniture for his first bedroom. He was excited — couldn’t believe it but he and Chap ordered some snappy red furniture and a rug with a desk and room darkening curtains. Ford was running through the new house every time he heard a motor outside. He was looking for his furniture to arrive — he wanted to help me assemble it. I put my foot down. “You can’t answer the door. Let me or Chap answer the door and deal with the delivery people, the contractors and anyone else who comes over.” That started a small tantrum, he said I promised the furniture was his. “Yes. It is. There’s another reason you can’t answer the door or use my phone. We’ll talk about it when Chap’s here.” I didn’t say anything more, but I needed some help when I told him about the videos — that was the only way to explain why he was being kept under wraps and wouldn’t return to school that fall. Ford sulked for a while but asked if we could still go to the Y on Friday nights. “Yes. And I think it’s time you started martial arts. What night is that on?” He was off to find the schedule; I texted Chap telling him we had to talk with Ford. “Explain about being kept under wraps.” The money was still rolling into the account, so Ford was still a hot commodity. … Chap came in that night pulling his camping trailer and parked it on the driveway in front of the garage. Ford loved the trailer and went out to help him straighten things up and take some of his electronics up to the garage apartment. This set-up was working out fine so far. I ordered the security cameras online; the guys installing the fence would arrive on Monday, after they left, I’d install the cameras in the evenings. We’d finally be able to relax for a while without worry. After dinner, I took them both to the old couch where Ford seldom slept and called him to my lap. “Do you know I love you?” Ford nodded, “I love you and Chap.” His innocence was so sweet, I felt a sharp pain in my guts for what I was about to do. “Do you remember when you lived with Bud and your mom — do you remember Bud filming you?” “I remember when I was real little, Mom took videos… I think I remember something — not much.” “Bud made some videos of you — and he sold them online. They’re sexy movies. Maybe that’s not so important to you now… Um, there are people who like boys’ sexuality, pay a lot to see you doing private things on camera. Touching yourself to feel good is alright — everyone does that, and it’s for when you’re alone. When you get older, that’s what you do with your lover. It’s like a secret. Some men buy videos of secret things boys do. I don’t know why, but they pay a lot of money to see a kid playing with his junk and doing private things — especially with adults.” “Private things – like you and Chap do at night?” “Yep. It’s our private time.” Chap intervened, “At school, did they talk about talking to strangers? About people who might lie to you and trick you into their car or someplace where you might be in danger?” “Yeah.” His eyes were big now, trying to piece all this together. “What about it?” “When we were at the old house — well, Len noticed a van. There was a man in it, he was at the Y and at your school. We believe he wanted to snatch you because he saw your videos — the videos of private things and he wanted to do them with you, or sell you to someone who does. That’s why you lived at my trailer till school was out. Someone saw you online, then they recognized you. They were going to sell you like a slave to do the private things with them.” “A slave?” “There are plenty of evil people in the world, and there are people who buy children and use them like slaves for different things — private things. We haven’t seen the guy in the van lately, but it could happen again. So, until you’re a little older you need to stay with us or in the house. Sorry, but you can’t answer the door or be around other adults alone. If anyone recognizes you again…” Chap’s voice was serious. “I couldn’t live with myself.” Ford leaned against my chest. This must be strange for him — feeling like he’d been thrown away for being a freak, then being told he could be taken into slavery for his body. “Have you heard from my mom?” “Nothing yet.” I said. “Are you upset with me?” “Are you going to make me a slave?” “Well, I wish you’d put your clothes in the hamper — I’d really appreciate it if you learned how to use the washer. But if you keep up with your school work, we’ll try keep you safe until you’re older so you never have to be a slave. The men who want slaves usually want boys. You won’t have to stay inside all your life.” “If men are looking for me to trap me, you’re supposed to call the police.” “On the first day we met you told me you hated foster care. I just couldn’t call the police, I was afraid they’d take you away and put you in the system again.” Then, I looked at Dave. “Could you call your friend in the PD and ask what we could do?” “I’ll call him later. We’ll work something out. Ford, you have to promise to stay in the house or stay with us until it’s safe for you to go out alone — the fencers are coming soon.” “Okay.” Ford looked at me, “Can I see the videos of me?” What was I going to say? “You’re not old enough?” Chap pulled Ford to his lap, “I think they’re still packed.” “Why can’t I remember the videos? Are you lying to me?” This was going to hurt all of us, “Sweet Ford, Bud and your mom gave you drugs. Some of the drugs they used — that’s why you can’t remember.” “My mom wouldn’t do that…” He was thinking, trying to remember, but he loved his mother. I hoped he wouldn’t push further to see the videos. Chap led the conversation forward. “What do you do when you feel really bad in your heart?” “Sometimes I cry.” He was sniffling, but still in shock and confused. “When it hurts, talk to someone who loves you. If your heart hurts, talk to me or Len. If you don’t understand something, ask us. We’ll figure it out together. Now, you didn’t cause any of these problems, we’re all going to have to work together to keep you safe. Sometimes you’ll have to be in the house, and sometimes you’ll have to go to work with me or Len. You’re going to become a short adult in a lot of ways, but you might like it – you’re a smart cookie.” Ford wasn’t believing a lot of what we said. I tried being reassuring, “Do you know we love you? That’s why we moved, and things are different now. We want to keep you safe — you’re going to grow up to be a fine man. I know it.” “Ford,” Chap said, “You have to talk to us when you feel hurt. Promise me you’ll do that.” Ford was confused but had an angry expression on his face. We’d have to explain again later, but the topic was in the open now, and it seemed like Ford would cooperate with us in keeping him safe. We took Ford to bed with us and gave him the remote control. He watched the sports channel for a while, then he fell asleep. In my mind I wondered if he was going to run away. My worst fear. Pulling him close to me, I kissed his hair and wondered where he might go or simply wander into a worse mess. … A ten-man crew came the next morning at seven and started on the fence. Measuring, setting poles and unloading a pile of lumber. I set up my office in the den, with a computer for Ford next to mine. Ford watched the men through the sheer curtains, keeping me apprised of their work. They were like machines, getting things laid out and the bundles of wood every thirty or so feet. The sooner they finished, the sooner I’d be able to close the gate and turn the cameras on. To make Ford aware of the security I was going to install, I showed him video footage from the businesses I secured, “When we get our cameras put in, we have to check it every morning or when we hear a beep. See what happened while we were sleeping, and a beep means someone’s coming over the fence. Okay?” He picked up my computer system quickly and often watched me as I scanned through the footage I had from the day before, noting any suspicious behaviors. I found myself teaching him about body language of thieves and trouble causers that I’d been taught in the military. He soaked it up like a sponge. Chap came in around three and ate my sandwich — telling me his friend would come that night to talk to Ford. “Dave Campbell from the PD. He’s okay. Don’t worry, he’s not going to turn anyone into foster care. But he’ll advise us about what to do and you can ask him any questions you want.” “Campbell, like soup?” Ford loved tomato soup and peanut butter sandwiches. “Yeah, like the soup.” Chap chuckled. “What’s he going to ask me?” Ford was curious. “Not sure, but if you don’t know the answer, say that. If you forgot, say that you can’t remember. He’s a friend and he’s here to help us stay safe.” … The day was noisy — the fencers were setting the crossbeams, and the pile of lumber on the drive was getting smaller. They stayed until around seven to get the most work done in the daylight. As they left, another car pulled in the driveway. Dave was here. Heavy-set and dark with a lot of silver in his hair and with a deep voice, Dave shook our hands. “Let’s get started.” He pulled out his laptop and asked to speak with me first. I explained everything in detail about finding Ford and the videos, all the problems with my brother, and showed him the note Bud signed — explaining my reasoning about keeping Ford. He asked why I didn’t call the police. I explained that and turning in a missing person’s report — we were waiting for word from his mom. I was dismissed. He spoke with Ford for a long time. I heard them laugh a few times, he must have been trying to go light on the boy. I knew things would be alright when Ford took Dave to his room to show him his new furniture and dirty clothes laying all over. It was his room, and he was proud. “Where do you sleep?” Dave asked Ford. The new bed still made. “Anywhere I want.” Well, that was true. Ford didn’t say anything more. Before long, Dave came to enjoy talking with Ford, they talked about baseball and things Dave’s kids did when they were young. When they came in the kitchen together, Chap handed me a twenty, “Why don’t you to go get some ice cream and sodas? We’ll make floats tonight.” Chap winked. He was going to show Dave the videos while we were gone. When we returned, I began scooping ice cream into big glasses while Ford was pouring the sodas, making a sticky mess, but we sat on our new patio in the cool of the evening. Things seemed alright, but I was worried about Ford being taken away to foster care after Dave’s interviews — maybe not foster care, but a “special” place for “special” kids. … Two days later, the fence was half completed in the heat of summer. Ford kept an eye on the men between the blinds. He wanted to go outside and check out the trees and look for horned toads. Dave sent me an email with a number of attachments. One was a letter to print out and take to the DMV with Ford. He’d get a state ID. The other attachments were about foster home requirements, foster parent regulations, and the link to a county website that explained the responsibilities and resources for foster parents. His email explained that the county couldn’t provide the security and opportunity at the same level we were — Ford would have to stay where he was. Dave made arrangements to keep our situation undercover, but I’d have to get the house inspected for safety; smoke alarms and all that. I agreed. We were becoming more legitimate with every passing day. Wouldn’t you know, Dave asked Ford and me to meet him at a local restaurant regarding my proposal to secure the evidence room and review the visitor screening area for any weak areas there. I was in, and my boy was moving upward on a twisted path, but upward and I was right behind him. By this time, Ford has his basic martial arts moves down and told me he could kick as high as my head. “Don’t try it.” We hung strips of paper from the beams of the roof over the porch for practice. Our lives rocked along fairly smoothly as the fence was finished and the gate installed. Chap made sure he spoke with Ford every day at breakfast, making sure Ford was alright about his past and keeping himself safe. He gave Ford his schedule for the day and a phone so he could call anytime. Through the next few weeks, they began talking about Ford’s future and options about school and college, maybe joining a ping pong team or a chess club. We started talking about a vacation — maybe in a year or two. Chap was moving Ford’s thoughts away from being fearful and hurt to gaining agency over his life. Clever man. … Dave called again. We were inspected by a man from Austin — thin, distinguished man in an expensive gray suit. He was the head of their county foster care system for Travis County. Ford gave him the tour of our house and answered his questions, saying that he was not very good with laundry yet. He charmed the man. We were approved, our home was somewhat messy and it was clean and safe enough. Plenty of food, soap and water – all the space requirements met. After he left, Chap told me that there was a somewhat covert, informal system of “understanding people” working in the foster care system — they helped the LGBTQ children on the q.t. and came in on special cases. Dave needed to fill in the blanks about Ford being in a safe place. We were over the highest bureaucratic hurdle for the time being. … The annual security convention came around — held in Las Vegas. I left to see what was new; what was coming and how I might buff up my skills. Four nights alone in an empty hotel room was enough. My phone calls didn’t cut it — I was lonely without my guys. Never so glad to see Chap’s face at the airport. He and Ford hugged me, Chap, glanced at the tent in my slacks. “I see ya’ needed me.” I grinned while Ford was telling me everything he did while I was gone. The hot tub was installed, sitting in a corner of the patio. We ate dinner on the patio watching Ford float twigs from the yard in the bubbles. The warm water and a full belly eventually overtook him. I put him to bed, grabbed up all the dirty laundry and started a wash. Chap came up behind me, “Wanna sit on my lap, daddy-Len?” “You gonna dom me again? I won’t play that game anymore.” “You love it.” He unzipped my pants and reached into feel my rigid rod. “Get naked and get in the tub.” His long, lanky white legs were out of his jeans quickly. He had a graceful motion as he moved — relaxed and confident. Smiling, he leaned over to get in the tub, a shank of his dark hair fell on his forehead. Handsome man — women must flock to him. I’d seen him walk into a bar turning the heads of all the men — of all preferences. I should have been born with his looks; his body. Here he was with me and he kept staying around. Crazy. Scooting his butt to the edge of the bench, he pointed at his erection. “Tell me first.” I thought he was going to kiss my neck but he bit me. “Tell me.” He grabbed my dick and squeezed. “C’mon.” I stood up to leave. “No. Why do I always have to do that?” “Because you love me and need me.” The skin on my erection was so tight I thought it might split. “No.” “I can tell when you’re in heat.” He gave me a sly grin. “Can’t psyche me out.” I thought and straddled his lap as his hands came to my head, pulling me into a kiss. That didn’t happen. A small foot was on the edge of the tub — a very naked Ford was climbing into the steaming water with us. “I thought you were in bed.” “I heard the security system beep.” He said. “Did you check the video?” I went into high-alert mode — adrenaline shot through my body. “Not yet.” As embarrassing as it was, I got out, at full attention and went to check the security system. Couldn’t see much from the cameras. Dressing quickly on the patio, I went to the side of the yard — behind Chap’s travel trailer with a flashlight. Why didn’t the motion detector turn the flood light on? Was the bulb burned out already? Broken glass lettered the grass below the eave where I’d mounted the floodlight. Someone busted it out — easy enough with a pea shooter or a rock. Damn! Shoulda put a cage over it. Circling the travel trailer, I shined the light between the fence and the trailer. Nothing there — but I noticed a piece of cloth — something white, just the edge of it peeking out from under the trailer. Someone was under there — must be small, there was only about a fifteen-inch clearance. I hadn’t looked in the narrow space between the front of the trailer and the garage but decided to try another ploy. The flashlight was a rechargeable LED with a wide lens. If I could lure the person under the trailer out, I’d hit their head with the flashlight and restrain them while they tried to recover. Movement behind the fence. Someone was outside, I could see their shadow in the thin spaces between the cedar slats. Six-foot is not so easy to jump and the cross beams were on the inside of the yard. They’d have to wait till I lured the person under the trailer out. As quietly as I could, put my foot on the bumper of the trailer knowing whomever was under there would start feeling some pressure from the undercarriage. Flexing my knees quickly, the leaf springs squeaked and the trailer bounced. I flexed harder. The trailer dipped and popped back up again — maybe three inches. I heard scuffling under the trailer and stepped back, not giving away my location. I waited and watched, hearing fabric scrap against the concrete. As I waited, I heard someone jump the fence about ten feet away in front of me. In silhouette, he wore an old straw cowboy hat — he was coming toward me. Pulling my arm back, I’d hit him in the face with the flashlight if I could and I stepped behind the trailer again so he’d have to come around the corner and get a surprise. The heels of his boots hit the concrete as he neared. I pulled my arm back with the flashlight gripped tightly. Sweating, I was tense but ready. As he neared the corner of the trailer I stopped breathing, ready to strike. Kapow! A flash of light. My mind blanked. For a split second, the face of Ford passed in front of me. Was I dead? I only remembered an explosion, a flash and my head bouncing against something. Nothing more, no pain, no sounds, no sensations, no light, no thoughts. I think I wet my britches, warm liquid turning cold in the air… Nothing more. Nothing. … Chap didn’t want to tell me what happened but he and Ford stayed with me in the emergency room — I heard their voices like they were yards away. Then I was transferred me to a dark, quiet place. The next period of time I remembered voices, but they sounded distant, far-away and through some kind of long, metal pipe. I felt sensations, but only a few pricks and cold fingers. Couldn’t open my eyes. So tired, I was incredibly tired and sleepy — couldn’t move a muscle. Is this the afterlife? Was I going to be reincarnated as something else? Don’t know when it was, had no idea, but I felt something shaking me. Then, light hit my eyes — fingers were lifting a cloth off my eyes — there was my Ford’s face and his bush of white hair with the light behind him looking like an angel. I blinked, but only heard his words as distant noise. He looked to the side and his lips moved. Soon, Chap’s face was above me, smiling. He leaned closer, saying something and kissed my cheek. I tried speaking — words wouldn’t come. Since I’d been out of diapers, I always peed first thing in the morning — “Pee…” A rough whisper came out of my dry lips. Chap was smiling — his lips moved saying something. I fell back asleep and everything went quiet and dark again. Sometime later a nurse and doctor came in and shook me awake. The nurse was pulling IVs from my left arm and hand. I was able to watch as they began unhooking me from the machines and equipment. The doctor’s mouth was moving, but I couldn’t understand him clearly — words were fuzzy. I motioned for him to write to me. My right hand wouldn’t work, so I motioned to my ear with my left hand. He nodded, “Wake up. Tests tomorrow morning.” “What happened?” “Gunshot by your ear — bullet through forearm.” He pointed to my right forearm. “Concussion and head injury. Try to wake up and eat, drink. Slow. Have to stand and walk before you go home.” That word “home” made me smile. I wanted to be there but I fell asleep again but not as deeply. Through the next hours without sedation, I began waking up — my whole body was incredibly sore. Had to learn how to deal with the remote control with my left hand, but my right-hand fingers were moving. Swollen to almost double their size yet moving. My feet and legs seemed to be okay, and I wanted to get up to pee, but found a tube coming out of my dick. I laid back and drank all the juices and ate everything the nurses brought. Head was still fuzzy and my hearing was off. Don’t know how long I slept, but woke up smelling spice cologne, the kind my dad used decades ago. Peeking from under my eyelids, I saw Dave checking his phone. “Where are Ford and Chap?” “Went to a tractor pull. How ya feeling?” Some of my hearing was returning. “What happened?” “You got it right, putting the security system on the fence. Smithson came for Ford. Brought a friend with her. Chap says he’s sorry about not getting a clean shot at the guy, he fired from over your shoulder — got you in the forearm — real nasty wound. You got a titanium rod in there now. The guy died, but we got Smithson.” He shook his head, “The blast damaged your ear, and well, when you fell, you hit your head on the trailer, then the driveway. Pretty nasty cuts.” He stood over me, his fingers touching along a very sore part of my scalp. “Ford?” I looked up, “He’s okay?” Dave chuckled, “Little bugger remembered my name — he called me from Chap’s phone. I sent a squad car and got over there as fast as I could. Heard the gunshot while we were on the phone. Left the house in my pajamas and pulled my jeans on when I got there. Sent the woman to the feds; conspiracy to kidnap, guns and drug trafficking — geez, you should have seen what we found in their truck.” “Ford saw his mom? What did he say?” At this point, Dave sat down and looked away. “There were words. He wanted to hug her — she pushed him away, told him he was a freak and good for nothing but to sell until he was used up.” Dave looked away. “Ford told her she was the freak, then he spit at her.” He took a deep breath, “We took everyone downtown. Hate to tell you, but the foster care system is going to have to send a rep to check it out.” “Can we get the guy from Austin again? Ford needs to be with me.” “The guy’s already left the capitol. He’ll be here tomorrow.” … Sore and tired, I went home two days later. Chap and Ford came to pick me up — I lay down on the back seat listening to pop music all the way home. They dumped me in bed, leaving for the kitchen to make lunch. Ford sneaked back into the bedroom, “I did the laundry — it’s not hard.” “Did you scan my security tapes for me, too?” “Chap did, but I think he missed some things.” Mr. Ford was stepping up like a champ. Ford slipped his shoes off and got on the bed with me. “I missed you, little bug. You’re so smart — you kept us safe.” He snuggled up under my arm and pressed his face into my neck. “Chap says I’d be in Asia now if I hadn’t heard my mom beep the security system. I’d really miss you if I was alone in Asia.” Suddenly a flood of memories rushed through my head as I remembered jumping out of the hot tub and sneaking around the trailer in the dark… Someone under the trailer, someone in a straw hat in the dark. I remembered the explosion next to my ear. “You called Dave Campbell,” I recalled. “He said to call if I had a problem. When Chap got the gun and went outside naked to find you — that means there was a problem, right?” “Yes, yes. I love you, Ford.” I grabbed him in my arm. “I know.” He was wiggly and in a playful mood. He threw the sheets back and climbed on my belly, sitting his narrow butt on my hips. Almost nine years old, relaxed, confident and smart. How did that happen after all he went through? The kid was amazing. “How do you know I love you?” He was tugging at his package; his proud cocklet was stiff. “Chap said my mom loved me when I was little, then she loved the drugs more. Now you and Chap love me and need me.” “Love you and need you?” Chap better not be domming on my boy. “Yeah, Chap says feeling loved and being needed — you know. That’s how life works.” He was teaching me now, “When people need you, you do things you don’t like, sometimes they’re hard things. Feeling loved makes it easier.” “Feeling loved and being needed…” I considered that. That’s what I had to tell to tell Chap. Had Ford’s love forced me into making big changes with my career and in my life? The boy needed me and looked up to me — all the changes had come more easily than I imagined. The love of Ford and Chap had made everything easier — even at the worst times. Facing down strangers to keep Ford’s love drove me into the dark with only a flashlight. Chap’s love and the need to keep us together had kept us all alive… Feeling loved and being needed… “Where’s Chap?” “I don’t know.” My sprite jumped off the bed and took his clothes off. Then came back to my belly, “Let’s rub dicks — it’s good.” He grabbed my cock and pulled it out of my boxers, I was becoming aroused. “Isn’t this one of those private things people do by themselves? Where’d you learn this?” “Chap showed me. He says it’s another way to feel love.” I felt a rule coming on but wasn’t exactly sure what it should be. Instead, I watched as Fords small hand squeezed and rubbed my rod until he had it to the size he wanted, I guessed. Then, he carefully laid it pointing upward. Scooching his knees forward by my hips, he found the place he wanted to be and carefully leaned forward, placing his tiny ball sac on mine and he leaned forward pressing his twiglet along my shaft. His belly, and his small, rigid cock pressed into mine. His head was on my chest; my hand went to his hair, then my left arm embraced him and I sighed. Couldn’t keep my hips still. Ford looked up at me and smiled, then kissed my chest. His breath was warm on my skin. My left hand slid down his smooth back and onto his butt. I squeezed a handful of his cheek and found my middle at his hole. I wiggled my finger. Like some kind of magic, my finger at his hole started his lower back and thighs to start hunching — rubbing our hot, hard cocks together. It only took several small movements till my heels were digging into the sheet and I’d lifted my lower back as hot waves of cum shot out between us. A deep, low vibration shook my spine and reverberated out to my fingers and toes. My face tingled from the rush of ecstasy — split-seconds of being completely swallowed by bliss. I think I felt a tiny hard nipple slide through my cum as Ford hunched a few more times, then lay still. “Little lover,” I felt him moving on me. “Don’t do that with anyone else, and don’t let anyone force you to rub dicks, please?” He sat up, and ran his finger across his chest through smears of my cum. I watched as his thin finger took my semen and touched it to his tongue. “That’s an adult flavor — you may not like it.” “Chap says that’s what men taste like.” “Yeah?” This situation needed a rule — still couldn’t decide what it should be so I tried a distraction ploy. “Why don’t you go bring me some cereal? I’m hungry.” He brought back ice cream sandwiches. “These are probably better than cereal.” We watched the television for a while, then got cleaned up and went back to bed. I fell asleep. Don’t know what time it was, but it was late. I heard Chap come in and open the refrigerator, then go to the bathroom and brush his teeth and shower. I sat up on the side of the bed feeling a little dizzy yet wanting to feel his skin, smell his body. “Got to get the all-clear from the doctor before you can get back into the swing of things.” He dried his hair, in the dim light from the window. “I’ll go check the cameras.” I followed him into my office area on unsteady legs. “Go back to bed, I’ll be in later.” I didn’t but sat beside him in Ford’s chair. “Thank you, Chap. Thanks for everything. I do need you and I do love you.” He glanced at me, giving me a smile. “Check your email.” The man from Austin had emailed me — what the hell now? Another inspection or something? It wasn’t. He asked if I’d consider taking another boy who needed security. Showing it to Chap, “What do you think?” “Tell him we’ll get back to him later. I need to fuck the man who loves me — the one who needs me.” He winked. Taking me to the couch, he lay down behind me and slowly slid his meat inside me while he stroked my cock, gripping hard and moving fast. No requests, no demands, no words – just a quick fuck that made me moan and shake. He left me there and I felt a blanket cover me and a pillow tucked under my head. After four years, ups, downs, and all the trials, I finally understood. Feeling loved and being needed… Fin. White Ford