Stevens School Runaways - Part 19 (hist, tort, CBT, psych)
By Platypus (formerly Dark Man) 
plupy@surfbest.net

copyright 2005 by Platypus, all rights reserved 
(First published on Eunuch Archive)

* * * * *
This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY.  It contains
explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If
you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such
material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not
read further, and do not save this story.
* * * * *

The boys grow to know Alfred, and to a lesser Edgar.


Stevens School Runaways - Part 19
"Awakenings"

Tom and Rich lay snug under their comforters the next
morning, when Edgar came bounding into their room. He was
wearing a pair of soiled jockey shorts, nothing else. What
he was saying was incredible.

"C'mon boys! Daylight in the swamp! Up and at 'em! Ready for
a swim in the pond?"

The huge bearded man, looking a bit like a monstrosity,
shook Tom lightly but vigorously by the shoulders, then
Rich. Tom promptly buried himself deeper under the covers.
But Rich responded, began to wake. Lifting the sleepers from
each eyelid, he asked, "What drug are you on Edgar?"

This only engaged the bearded giant, made him focus on the
apparently willing young one. He repeated, "Ready for a swim
in the pond? It'll wake you up young one!"

Rich sat straight up. "It's till early, not much after
sunrise. Besides, any pond in the area is likely to be
frozen solid."

"Not so. It's been slightly above freezing for weeks. There
are only little floes of ice left – here and there. We will
go!"

Within seconds Rich found himself being lifted up from the
warmth and comfort of the quilt-laden bed, about to become a
human polar bear. A moment later, Edgar and Rich were
holding hands, the big man was dragging the boy, and both
were naked as the day they were born. Outside, running
barefoot through thigh-deep snow, until they came to the
pond. It was sunny, dazzlingly bright with the reflecting
snow, almost blinding. The air temperature was maybe 35
degrees Fahrenheit – not a degree warmer.

It was unfrozen, that mountain pond, but unbelievably cold,
Rich couldn't believe this was happening, it was crazy, he
was in the frigid water up to his chest, then over his head;
for a few seconds Rich thought he was going to drown for
sure. Next he was out of the water, and swept through the
snow as if he were a fledgling broom, and when they got to a
porch in back of the lodge, it'd been swept clean of snow,
he was being toweled dry by Edgar and by Alfred, and once
Rich's body was completely dry, and covered, at least his
torso, with a welter of thick, fleecy bath towels -- within
moments of all this frenzied activity the loosely-clad boy
was sunning himself, the sun was much stronger than he'd
assumed it would be, and with another hot toddy, and
another, he sipped them down, he felt great all of a sudden,
strangely invigorated – not cold in the slightest. Edgar and
Alfred had joined him now -- sitting on lounging deck chairs
just like he was – each man was naked but covered lightly
with a single towel, except that Edgar's towel didn't quite
cover his privates, at least where the big man's privates
were supposed to be, the man had no balls, no penis, could
that be possible? Rich was slightly tipsy after two morning
toddies, so maybe he was seeing things, or not seeing the
man's things, as the case may be, and anyway, he started
yelling up to Tom in his bed from the rear porch, sounding
crazy Tom remarked to him later.

"Hey Tom, c'mon down, the water's fine! I've just been
swimming!"

"How do you like our little morning ritual?" Alfred asked.

"It's great!" Rich was saying, but the world was spinning,
he was almost drunk from two slugs of rum, but somehow his
teenaged eyes were drawn to the men's privates. Alfred had
pea-sized ball-sacks, and just a bulbous finger of a dick, a
little odd-shaped thing, it looked like a middle finger
somehow delightfully obscene, and Rich starting giggling and
laughing, and his kid's eyes darted to Edgar's missing
genitalia, no balls whatsoever and a little-bitty pencil-
thin thing for a dick, just something to piss with, but
barely, and then Rich blurted, "You guys are eunuchs!"

"I never thought you'd notice!" Edgar said, and Alfred said
"You get used to it," or something like that, but both men
were relieved, or at least Alfred was, when Rich reacted
differently than Tom had the night before, and out of the
blue the sparkling boy said, his fresh skin features
sparkling like diamonds in the sunlight, "That was so fun!
In fact, it was incredible!"

"What?" Alfred said just to make sure that he'd heard the
darling right.

"The skinny-dipping of course," Rich answered, "Can we do it
again tomorrow?"

*

It was at least an hour when Rich went upstairs to the
alcove to dress, he'd already had breakfast, and after what
seemed like a full morning already, he couldn't believe that
Tom was still snuggled in bed under the covers in his
pajamas. "Are you EVER going to get up?" he yelled, a bit
too loud, at his slumbering friend.

When Tom did, he was crying, still traumatized from his
experience of the night before – the vision of Alfred
emerging from his bath.

"What's the freaking matter? Why are you blubbering?" Rich
was getting perturbed.

"I got something to tell you. I can't even say it out loud."
Rich leaned over so that Tom could whisper in his ear.

"So? I knew that. Same thing with Edgar – they're eunuchs.
That's all."

"That's all – are you bonkers? It's freaking weird!"

"No, it's not. It's normal for them," Rich argued.

"Can you get serious? They're probably going to make you and
me eunuchs. That's why Mr. Cousins – I mean Alfred –
probably brought us here in the first place."

"You don't know that. I think it's going to be fun up here.
Just wait and see. I'm optimistic. It's a lot better than
being stuck at Stevens. Think about it."

But logic couldn't sway Tom. He was still traumatized. This
was all way too weird. Finally, the truth came out; Tom's
greatest fear. "I don't want to lose my cock and balls – or
even just my balls. I'd die before I'd let that happen. I'm
not kidding. I'd find a way. I'd just die!"

Rich measured his words to reassure his addled friend.
"Listen to me. I don't think that Alfred, or even Edgar,
would ever make you do anything that you didn't really want
to do."

"How do you know that?"

"I just have a gut feeling, that's all."

There was a long pause as Tom regarded his friend, staring
intently at his eyes. They'd been through a lifetime
together. It seemed like forever. He knew they'd be friends
forever, no matter what happened. "I don't know. I hope
you're right."

"I think it's your upbringing. Your parents were tight-
asses. It's screwing you up. You gotta adjust, guy."

Suddenly, on an impulse, Tom hugged his friend tight,
wrapped his arms around him. To his credit, Rich hugged
back, realizing the moment's emotion.

"Hey up there. Tom. Want some breakfast?" It was Edgar's
voice – a voice that would become so familiar.

"Yeah," Tom said, "We're coming down. I'm starved!"

*

May. June. By the time it was July in the Canadian
wilderness, Tom and Rich had become like a family – even if
Alfred and Edgar were the slightly eccentric parent figures.
Fishing. Hiking. Backpacking. The skinny-dipping grew into a
daily ritual for both boys and the neutered men – soon it
didn't matter that their older friends and companions were
basically without genitalia. Everyday was fun, and
adventure. The lodge also had pets – Edgar's Angora cat
"Fluffy" and the sled dogs – "Ralph" and "Maria" – the
female was part wolf but invariably friendly to the boys.

Mysteries were still unsolved, but to a lesser degree.

First there was the clandestine visit. Rich's parents came
to visit – Arthur had arranged this as a treat – it was in
no way safe to bring the boys back to the Lower Forty-Eight
and Tom's parents, being straight-laced and narrow-minded
Christians – were too great a risk to chance – but Rich's
parents just being there with them all for a week worked
well – they snuck into the area from a roundabout – back
roads traversed through the Northwest Territories and
heading south and east. "Nobody followed us," said Rich's
dad.

One summer afternoon, it was hot, maybe upper 80s and
surprisingly humid, and Alfred told the boys some details
about how he'd become a eunuch, and like the rest of the
eunuchs in the secret cult, almost nullified.

"I was fifteen," Alfred began, "and Edgar was my savior. You
should have seen him in those days." It was a crush, or an
infatuation – they'd met in California, where Alfred had
grown up as a male prostitute, working the streets of
Merced. There'd been a legal guardianship, and then a
migration to Alberta. "The society was just starting out. I
doubt we had more than twenty members but they were from
different countries, and especially Russia, refugees and
dissenters from the notorious Sergei Dostchevski's "Brethren
of Death." Alfred had continued to turn tricks, working the
streets of Calgary that first summer. He was involved
inextricably it seemed in a vicious cycle, an established
habit -- homosexual sex in exchange for drugs. He'd run away
repeatedly. Gotten Edgar sent to prison for "contributing to
the delinquency of a minor." Edgar didn't know what to do,
he was barely thirty himself, and in over his head trying to
raise Alfred, the hellion teen. "Finally, the Gentle Ones,
that's what they were called, they're still called that –
came to our rescue, to Edgar's rescue. Edgar was their
leader, he still is. They suggested it – castration – at
least a gelding – to take away my promiscuity. Edgar went
along with it. You have to know. I had these violent mood
swings because of the drugs, because I was emotionally
unstable, because I loved Edgar – and I still felt so much
guilt and shame." To make a long story short, cutting
through the repeated drug withdrawals and the screaming
jags, and a million other things barely remembered that
Alfred had probably repressed, after all, thirty-five years
had passed, there'd been the initiation. "It was a
ritualized rite, like a tribal rite, in the thickest woods
just a few miles from here. They led me naked to lie spread-
eagled on the bloody stone. The stone is situated in a grove
of whispering pines 2.4 miles from this lodge."

Alfred's mind drifted off again, back through a mist of
time. "But I was always ambivalent. I loved Edgar like the
dad I never had, but I wasn't absolutely sure I wanted to be
like him, to lose my testicles, my penis, to be one of the
Gentle Ones."

It was interesting, perhaps more than a footnote, when Tom
left before Alfred had finished his story's gory conclusion,
but Rich stayed to listen, transfixed in a fascination that
rivaled a trance. Tom went to pet "Ralph" and "Maria" while
caught indelibly in a mood swing of his own.

End of Part 19