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From: Daemon Way <daemonway@yahoo.ca>
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Subject: {ASSM} ST: "Teacher Part 21" (nc, mc, t/t, t/b)
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Date: Mon, 17 Oct 2005 03:10:04 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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TEACHER - PART TWENTY-ONE

By Daemon Way

daemonway@yahoo.ca

Mrs. Pakorny looked up at her class and smiled.  All
the teachers complained that the grade 8B class was
the most unruly and the most difficult to manage.  She
had to admit they were a handful but she rarely had
difficulty with them.  It came from taking the time
and effort to make her history lessons interesting and
relevant, and from knowing and understanding junior
high students.  Take Cory Wilson for example.  At the
moment his brow was furrowed as he concentrated on his
assigned reading.  He always furrowed his brow when he
was thinking extra hard.  He was a good student,
bright and normally well behaved, but he was impulsive
and headstrong, one who readily questioned what he
read or was told, and one who challenged the rules. 
Some teachers did not like students who questioned or
challenged them.  She was not one of them.  Developing
inquiring minds was what teaching was all about, and
even she found some of the rules at Lincoln Junior
High School archaic and unreasonable.  Actually, Cory
reminded her of herself when she was at that age,
inquisitive, self-confident, outgoing and full of
energy, full of piss and vinegar her father used to
tease her.

Cory was concentrating, but not on his reading.  After
the wild party with the guys he'd returned to the
Gilles for supper.  Even though he'd just stuffed
himself with pizza to the point of bursting, he was
hungry again, which was not unusual considering he was
a growing boy, and he'd spent a particularly active
Sunday afternoon.  After supper he'd gone to
Francois's old room, supposedly to work on his school
work, but actually going to look through his
great-grandfather's journal he'd brought back to the
Gilles's.  What had happened with Kenneth Ballard had
never happened before, not so fast and so total, and
he had to find out just what it was that he'd done to
cause it, not just because he was curious and loved
solving mysteries, but more important, if he could
figure out what he'd done it would make his revenge on
Julius a lot easier.

His great-grandfather on his mother's side, Isaiah
McFarlane, had gotten the journal from his father when
he was eighteen and about to start medical school in
Dublin in 1902.  That was sort of interesting being
over a hundred years ago.  The journal however was
handwritten in small script and had to be at least a
thousand pages, his great-grandfather, as mentioned,
being particularly verbose.  Isaiah was ninety-five
when he died, and Cory figured he'd have to live at
least that long just to read his journal.  Fortunately
he'd found two things so far that had helped him find
information on the headband.  The first was the paper
on mesmerization and Druids.  That itself was long and
boring and he could see why the Royal Dublin Society
had rejected it.  His great-grandfather had
fortunately scribbled in references to his diary in
the margin which were a great help in his search.

The first reference was an entry written the end of
October, two months after he'd started college, in
which he'd described a pompous student who was always
making fun of him because he came from a small village
and didn't know the sophisticated city ways of doing
things.  They had a costume dance for Halloween so he
had dressed like a Druid and had put on his headband,
which unlike Cory he didn't wear every day, and when
the guy started in on him at the dance he used it to
make the guy act, in Isaiah's words, "like the bumpkin
he claimed I was."  He had him stumble over his feet
and step on the toes of the girl he was dancing with,
dribble his drinks down his chin, greedily heap his
plate with food and drop it, and finally go to the
men's room and return without buttoning his trousers
back up.

It was the first mention in the diary of the headband
and his great-grandfather went on to tell how he had
found the headband on his thirteenth birthday while
out cutting blocks of peat to bring home and dry for
fuel, one of his chores even on his birthday.  If
nothing else, it made Cory appreciate the simple
chores he had.  His great-grandfather's first
discovery of the power of the headband was that very
evening.  He'd put it on and his father began getting
on his case as he evidently often did about being lazy
and always finding time to play with toys like the
headband but never to do his chores, and Isaiah, being
pissed off already having to do chores on his birthday
and Saint Patrick's Day besides, told his father to go
suck himself, thinking it of course, not really saying
it.  Well, to his surprise his father stopped his rant
in mid sentence and stared at him and for a moment he
thought maybe he'd actually spoken.  Apparent that he
hadn't, he used the pause to tell his father again,
taking great joy in talking back at least in his mind,
and to his surprise, his father got this funny look on
his face and got up and went outside.  Curious, Isaiah
had followed him and discovered him laying on his back
in the peat shed with his legs over his head and his
cock in his mouth.  Evidently his father was
exceptionally well hung besides flexible, and had
often sucked himself off to satisfy his needs as a
young man.  The incident reminded Cory of his first
discovery of the headband and telling his mother to go
frig her ass.  Actually, it was just two weeks after
his thirteenth birthday, and now he thought about it,
they had started to clean out his grandfather's stuff
on his birthday but hadn't gotten to the pile with the
headband.

Well, Isaiah was soon using the headband to get back
at the bullies at school who teased him and adults
whom he didn't like and the richer people in the
village who looked down on him and his family because
they were poor potato farmers.  He seemed to use the
same punishment for them all, making them embarrassed
and humiliating them by making them fart or burp
loudly in public, scratch themselves in private
places, pick their noses, and in some cases eat their
boogers, go about with their flies unbuttoned and the
like.  Most of the other references to journal entries
referred to similar incidents where someone had
crossed his great-grandfather or been a snob and he'd
used the headband to get back at them.  Cory smiled as
he realized that Isaiah getting his revenge was no
different from what he was doing.  Some things hadn't
changed in a hundred years!

Isaiah reported sometimes making it happen was easy,
sometimes it was not and sometimes the headband didn't
work at all.  From his experiences and
experimentation, Isaiah had concluded that the
headband operated using some sort of magnetic field
that he called animal magnetism, and which in a later
entry he changed to animal electricity because he
figured some things conducted the band's power better
than others, including water, milk and trees which he
said gave their power to the headband, pointing out
that the Druids held trees and water to be sacred.  He
also figured the position of the planets and the stars
influenced the headband's power, along with spirits
and Druid chants.

That was the second thing Cory had found that helped
him understand more about the headband, a much shorter
paper called "Evidence of Neuro-linguistic Programming
in Druid Chants and Rituals" that he'd found in the
bunch of letters from a Doctor Milton Erickson.  His
great-grandfather seemed to have a real thing for
Druids, who sounded interesting but he hadn't gotten
around to reading the Geographic article on them yet. 
Like Isaiah's other paper, this one was just as boring
but there was also a page of scribbled notes sort of
summarizing this neuro-lingy thingy again with
references to entries in his journal that explained
how to use the headband and gave examples from his
diary, things like linking new thoughts with old
memories, taking small steps by thinking of just one
thought with lots of repetition, thinking slowly and
calmly, and thinking so the other person thought it
was his own thoughts and feelings, all things which
he'd used with Goosey and his family, and none of
which explained why sometimes you didn't have to do
all that and other times even doing that the headband
didn't work.

This Doctor Erickson evidently used the technique so
his patients could cure themselves using their own
power by doing things like controlling their own heart
rate and breathing, and so they could overcome things
like fears and stuff, sort of like hypnosis but just
talking out loud instead of putting the person to
sleep.  One of the references Isaiah had made to his
journal was an entry where he described using his head
band when he served as a medic in the first world war
to help soldiers who were suffering from battle
fatigue and to help them ignore their pain by
focussing on other things.

What was a lot more interesting were the references to
journal entries about how he used his thoughts for
sex.  Isaiah, Cory learned, was turned on by adults
when he was a boy, a condition he said in a later
journal entry was called teleiophilia and studied by
someone called Kurt Freund.  First there was making
his father suck himself, which he made the man do
whenever he got on his case, which his
great-grandfather said was quite often, and he even
invited close friends over to spy on him when he was
particularly pissed off, not unlike what he was doing
with Anthony and Terry with Goosey and his sons.  Cory
smiled again at the similarity!

His first incident involving sex and himself was the
summer of 1897, four months after he'd found the band.
 He was working that summer as a carpenter's helper to
earn some money for his family and was wearing the
band to keep his long, curly hair back, and at the end
of the day he was fantasizing about sucking the man's
dick when he noticed the man was getting aroused and
was looking at him funny, and the more he concentrated
on what he'd like them to do the hornier the man got. 
"Finally hot and sweaty from our honest day's work and
with the fragrance of oak chips in the air, we threw
off our clothes and I dropped to my knees and
worshipped his beautiful, stiff pecker, the manly
aroma of his sweaty balls mixing with that of the
freshly cut cedar resulting in a heady fragrance I
will never forget and whose memory brings me to an
instant erection even to this day," his
great-grandfather had recalled and written in his
diary five years later after having passed by a
woodworker's shop.  He went on for several more pages
on how the two of them became lovers, and how he
"satisfied the man's needs in every way a boy possibly
can."

That was the first of several men in his village and
the surrounding farms that he found "delighted in
tender boy flesh as much as I delighted in their
muscular, hard bodies and raging manhoods."  That
fascination with older men continued throughout his
life, always seeking men twenty or thirty years his
senior, and at the same time using the band to help
young boys and adult boylovers to "satisfy those
natural, God-given urges that a mean and misguided
society would deny."  Isaiah McFarlane was verbose but
had a flowery way of describing things that Cory found
he liked.  His great-grandfather also had a lot of
experiences, which promised to keep Cory entertained
for years even if he read a half dozen journal entries
a day, which he could never do as after just one or
two of his great-grandfather's descriptions of his
sexual experiences he got so horny he had to stop and
get his nuts off.  That was exactly what had happened
that Sunday night, and although he'd gotten off twice
that afternoon, he was good for two hot fucks with
Antoinette Gilles that night.  He was, after all,
thirteen and had a sexual appetite to match his
digestive one.  So he fucked her pussy, and then her
ass, concluding afterward that as great as it had
been, fucking Dominic's ass had been more enjoyable.

Snuggling up to her still hot and panting body and
finding a tit and slipping the nipple in his mouth, he
thought of one of the last entries he'd read in his
great-grandfather's journal that night, one he'd
written at the age of ninety while recovering from a
bad bout of flu but well enough to have encouraged a
hot fucking session in the empty bed on the other side
of the curtain between a young eight-year-old patient
who clearly was interested in his fifty-year-old
doctor.  His great-grandfather had written that he
didn't know what to do with the headband  should he be
"knocking on death's door" as he didn't know if it was
a curse or a blessing, and in that he hadn't come any
further in his understanding than he had October 6,
1954 twenty years earlier.  Cory of course flipped
back and found the entry dated that day.

"It is funny how a young boy thinks he is being so
secretive and unobtrusive when anyone who has any wits
about him can see the obvious.  While sitting in the
park enjoying the few nice days of sunshine before the
first snowfalls, I spotted a young lad of about
fourteen lying on his stomach on the grass and slowly
rocking to and fro, a habit of horny young boys that
probably dates back even before the first Druid and is
found in every country and race in this great world. 
That in itself is not unusual, boys of that age having
rampant hormones, and in fact, nor was the cause of
his arousal, though there are many today who would
deny such a thing as normal and would have one
castrated just for thinking it.  I speak of course of
the father of about forty who was trying to get his
six-year-old child's kite up in the air despite the
wind being most  uncooperative.  It being unseasonably
warm, he'd removed his shirt, revealing a very hairy
and broad chest which was at the moment perspiring
profusely.

So, of course, I drew his attention to the teenage boy
by means of the headband which perched on my head
concealed under the New York Yankees ball cap I'd
picked up at a yard sale.  Watching his reaction, I
discerned immediately that he was one of those men who
understood the sexuality of teenage boys, but who like
most men, have been conditioned by society to think
all boys should address those needs with those of the
opposite sex, and at the proper age as decided by his
adults.  By now as anyone reading this journal is well
aware, I've become quite proficient in using the
headband, and by gentle suggestions and projecting
emotions, I gave the two the courage and incentive to
approach each other, first in the pretense of helping
get the kite up in the air, and then to progress to
dealing with something else that had come up.  I
followed the three over to the denser bushes where the
father, in front of his toddler who in the process
pushed down his trousers and underwear and gave
himself a good sound jerking while he watched, gave
the teenage boy a thorough ass fucking that resulted
in the boy coming just from being fucked.  How I
wished at that moment I could satisfy my longing, but
when you are seventy, it is next to impossible to find
someone twenty-five years your senior, and so I was
left to be satisfied crouched there in the bushes with
my memories and my hand.

Perhaps it was that lack of consummating my desire
with another human being that resulted in my rash
actions later that afternoon.  Having gone to one of
the neighbouring orchards for apples, I noticed again
the same phenomena, in this case a young boy of
perhaps nine or ten, looking longingly at the farmer
up the ladder handing him down apples, I suspected
likely another father and son.  So again I used my
headband, encouraging both to do what came natural if
others would allow, but in this case, the more amorous
the boy became and the more attractive in the eyes of
any boylover, the more adverse the father became to
doing anything about it.  Rather than assisting the
boy in satisfying his need or at the least ignoring
it, he chastised the boy for touching himself as I'd
suggested he do through my mental prompting, demeaning
what was perfectly natural and humiliating the boy
besides.  In my anger and without thinking I suggested
mentally that if he could not see the obvious, the man
climb to the top of the tree and jump off.  To my
horror, he began to do just that!  I sent every
message I could, as strongly as I could, to stop, but
to no avail.  Higher and higher he climbed.  I ran
over to him, shouting to him that I required his help,
and to come down that instant.  Down he did come,
leaping from the tree.  Fortunately it was not a tall
tree, and instead of breaking his neck, as I'd
initially wished, he broke an arm and dislocated the
shoulder.  Perhaps it was a fit punishment for his
actions, but I was horrified that I had passed that
judgement and punishment on him.

That was not the first time my temper and emotions
sent such a charge of feral animal electricity to my
subject so powerful that they obeyed without question.
 As I drove back home in horror and in mortification
over my actions, I became convinced that the headband
was cursed, and upon arriving home picked out those
entries in which I used the band to do evil. 
Fortunately for my soul, there are few.  The first was
actually the first day I'd used the headband, the day
I'd told my father to go suck himself.  In the past I
thought it just considering his constant badgering and
criticism of everything I did, but in retrospect, for
a child to wish such a thing on a father is an act of
evil.

The second was April 6, 1898, three days before the
end of Lent.  Having turned fourteen only three weeks
before, I was feeling particularly randy.  After choir
practice, I stayed behind to help put decorate the
church for the upcoming Easter, and in my lust
projected my needs to Father Patrick.  I've written of
the incident several times in this journal and I'll
never forget his reaction.  He looked at me like a man
stunned, a man struck dumb by God, and as I projected
my need and love and lust as I'd learned to do by
trial and error with boys and lesser men, he grabbed
me roughly and raising his priestly robes and my choir
gown, he bent me over had me there at the foot of the
altar.  At the time I thought it a gift from God so
hot and lustful was our sex, and how enjoyable he
evidently found it, for it was five days later, Easter
Sunday, that I stayed behind and we had a longer and
more gentle session in the rectory.  I realize only
today, that being the agent that broke the man's vows
of chastity I was not acting as an angel from God, but
rather as a demon doing the work of Satan.

Then there is my entry of December 17, 1917 of the
young soldier, no more than nineteen years of age, his
cheeks still down-covered and unshaven, trembling with
the fear of the war, crying like a baby.  I'd written
at great length on that day how, overcome with
compassion and grief for this young man, I projected
thoughts of peace and well-being, and how the young
man suddenly went blank, with what I thought was the
realization of beauty and peace of my thoughts which
eliminated his pain.  I'd used the band many times
before that during what we'd thought was the war to
end all wars as I've recorded in this journal to make
the soldiers I treated forget their pain as I sewed
their wounds often without anaesthetics, but this was
the first time I'd used it to ease one's mental
discomfort, and he was the first to become so totally
absorbed in my thoughts as to enter a trance.  I
thought at the time it was due to the severe emotions
and pain we were both feeling and our empathy with
each other, and again thanked God, but now I realize
again, it was evil.  In helping the boy to overcome
his fatigue and fear, I'd sent this young
nineteen-year-old boy back into the battle, and
perhaps, though I'll never know as I never even knew
his name, to his death.

August 18,1920, a black day I now realize in more ways
than I accounted when I entered my journal entry that
night.  That was the day Congress ratified the 19th
Amendment giving women the right to vote, a decision I
cursed on that day and still curse today, a day I
regretted having moved to America after the war, but
which was moot in that today with the exception of
Switzerland and the Muslim countries, one of the few
redeeming traits of the heathen Arab race and north
African niggers, all other nations have followed suit.
 In my anger, while passing a particularly vile and
vulgar woman in the street celebrating her "victory",
I broadcast my anger to her, causing her to become
mute as women should be, and to do my bidding, turning
her dance of joy into a vulgar dance of stripping
until naked, and then finger fucking her ass there in
the street while offering her other opening to anyone
who wanted it, men, boys, and toddlers alike.  I
rejoiced then in my treatment of the woman deserving
of my wrath, but now I see it as the purest evidence
yet of Satan's work.

And then there was the argument in the fall of 1938
with Doctor Angus Hurd over my medical opinions
regarding the presence of magnetic effluence,
resulting in words exchanged in anger by both parties,
and me telling him to take a flying leap out the
window, which he proceeded to do.  Thinking no man
would endanger his life so, even a temperamental and
stubborn Scot, I discounted it as being the influence
of the headband and instead concluded that the man had
just happened to lean against the window at that
point, and the frame being rotted, gave way under his
weight, which was considerable.  Now I as I reread my
journal entry and recall the event, and the look on
his face, I see a developing trend in these events I'm
writing of anew this day.

Last, eight years later, in 1946, there was the
incident of the Indian porter in Seattle who dropped
my luggage, spilling its contents all over the railway
platform, and my angry response telling the man he
should return to the jungles of India where he and his
kind belonged, and if he couldn't use the hands God
gave him any better, he would better off without them,
and the man turning and leaping off the platform in
front of a passing horse-drawn wagon which ran over
his hands and crushed them.  An accident I thought as
I wrote at the time, the man tripping over his own
feet and in reaching out to break his fall, by a freak
chance placing his hands in the path of the wagon.  I
no longer think so.

I have thought long of these things, as to if they are
all coincidences or if there is a greater message.
They all have in common strong emotions, lust, anger,
hate, fear, and frustration, usually a combination of
several, and they have all resulted in causing harm to
another, and all while I was wearing this cursed
headband sitting now on the desk before me.  Sadly in
all my efforts to understand its purpose and mode of
operation over these past fifty-seven years and seven
months I have barely begun to comprehend, and despite
the much good I have been able to bring boys and men
over these years, I cannot ignore the facts I have
just penned.  And so, I go now to bury this accursed
crown of Satan in the hopes nobody will ever find it
again and wash my hands of it."

As Cory thought about the journal entry again that
afternoon in Mrs. Pakorny's history class, his
great-grandfather evidently had not buried it, or he
had dug it back up, because it had been there among
his grandfather's possessions and was presently
sitting on his head.  Unfortunately, none of what he'd
read yesterday had helped him.  It did spark his
interest again in Satanism, and the possibility of the
headband being somehow demonic actually appealed to
him rather than repelled him.  Even from what he'd
read though, he couldn't reach the same conclusion as
his great-grandfather had that the headband was evil. 
Actually, besides being politically incorrect and
racially prejudiced, the man was superstitious and
bullheaded, in many ways much like his grandfather on
his mother's side.  He wondered if his grandfather
knew about the journal, or about the headband, but in
that his mother had said the two were never very
close, and from what little he knew of his
grandfather, he doubted it.  So as period six came to
an end, he came to his own conclusion, a much
different one reflecting the optimistic attitude and
knowledge of a thirteen-year-old boy in the
twenty-first century compared to the one reached by a
disgruntled seventy-year-old man in the mid 1900's. 
In that all the incidents his great-grandfather
mentioned involved strong emotions and desperation of
some sort, he figured that had to be the cause of the
reaction of his father, the priest breaking his vows,
the soldier, and the woman frigging herself.  His own
two experiences, his mother's immediate reaction to
his suggestion she frig herself, and Kenneth Ballard's
willingness to become a slave, had also been at times
of intense emotions, anger and frustration and in
Kenneth's case right after a particularly strong
sexual high.   The incidents with the doctor and the
porter had to be pure accidents and coincidences.  As
for the man in the tree, maybe he was suicidal or
something, or was just going after a particularly red
apple at the top of the tree.  It wasn't a great
explanation, but it was the best he could come up
with.

In computer class next period he could not help
wondering what the class would think if they knew
their teacher and his family went naked at home, and
that while he slept with his teenage son Cory was
sleeping with and fucking his wife.  Anthony leaned
over and asked if the party was still on after school,
which totally distracted him for the rest of the
period as he thought about the fun they'd be having in
less than an hour.  He was still thinking about that
as he headed down the hall for his last class of the
day.

"So, what did you think you were doing, staring at my
girl?" shouted Nick Dawson angrily, interrupting
Cory's thoughts.  Almost a foot taller, the slender
grade nine student towered over Ben Hanson as he stood
in the middle of the hallway blocking Ben's path.

"I wasn't," Ben replied meekly, staring down at the
floor.

"You wasn't?  You calling my girl a liar?"

"No, of course not," Ben replied quickly, his fear
evident in his voice.

"So which is it?  Were you staring at her or is she
lying?"

"Neither, I, ah, well . . . "

"I should punch you out right here, but I'd have to
bend over to do it," Nick remarked with a snicker that
caused his girl to giggle.

"Do it," encouraged Molly, Nick's girlfriend.  "He
deserves it.  You should have seen the way he was
looking at me.  You know, like the pervert was
undressing me with his eyes."

There wasn't a boy in school that didn't look at Molly
Vickers and undress her with his eyes.  When they'd
returned to school the summer after grade six, Molly
had returned with the biggest, firmest tits of any
girl in grade seven, and now a year later, they were
even more enhanced.  Even a geek and egghead like
Wilbur Thornton commented on her boobs, though on
second thought, short, pudgy Ben Hanson was probably
one of the few students in the school that didn't
fantasize about Molly and her boobs, him and Dominic
Halder who was too innocent and pure to have such
thoughts.  At least Ben didn't seem to be the type,
though honestly Cory couldn't say for sure what type
Ben was.  Ben was in his computer class, and his
physical education and science classes, but he didn't
really know him.  He was one of those students that
was just there.  He seldom said anything, and he was
always looking down at his feet.  He wasn't even sure
what colour his eyes were.  Ben Hanson was one of
those students whom nobody really noticed, not even
the teachers.  At any rate, he certainly wasn't so
foolish as to openly ogle Molly.

As Nick stepped forward, Ben drew back against the
lockers, ready for the punch that Nick kept
threatening him with but never actually delivered, so
far.  Instead Nick knocked his books on the floor and
with a smirk and a laugh, headed off to class, his arm
about Molly's waist.  The bell rang and Ben scrambled
to pick up his things.  Cory bent down to help. 

"Whoa, what's this?" he asked, picking up a computer
printout.  It was a guy sitting at a computer with
some type of headband with different probes sticking
out of it and connected by a wire to a little black
box on the desk.

"That's a Cyberlink Mind Mouse," Ben replied softly,
afraid Cory was going to make fun of it, or of him for
having run off a copy.  "It sends brainwave signals to
a computer to operate it without using your hands."

"It does fucking what?"

"It sends-."

"Sends brainwaves?"

"Yeah."  Ben was in a quandary.  The bell had gone and
he was going to be late for class which was causing
him great anxiety, but Cory being the first one to
actually talk to him that day he wanted to explain the
device to him too.

"Oh man, you gotta tell me more about this!"

"Ah, sure, I'd be glad to.  Ah, maybe you can come to
my house after school-."

"No, I got plans for after school."  Ben's face fell. 
He should have known.  Everyone had plans after
school, everyone except him.  He never had any plans. 
None that involved anyone other than himself.  Beside
it was just a dumb computer tool.  To think Cory might
have been interested enough-.

"But I can come after supper.  How about say
six-thirty?"

"Oh yeah!  Sure!  Six-thirty would be super!"

"Cool, I'll see ya then," Cory said, shoving the rest
of the papers in Ben's arms and rushing down the hall.
 "Oh, by the way, what's your address?"

"It's 154 Briarwood Close," Ben replied, just standing
there and staring at Cory in surprise.

"I'll find it."

Billy was waiting for them after school and Cory,
Terry, Anthony and Dominic, eager for the party to
start, piled into his red Corvette and headed to
Cory's house, stopping to pick up Jonah who sadly
informed them that he had asked but his father had not
given him permission.  Cory didn't know how, but he'd
make it up to the seven-year-old boy and see that his
father paid for his decision to deny his son a bit of
fun.  Billy had just finished setting up the cameras
and checking the lighting in the living room when
Kenneth arrived.  The previous day after he'd posed at
the doorway for the black dude before he left, he'd
agreed to come back whenever Cory told him to, and
he'd barely finished throwing up outside his own home
when Cory phoned him and told him to come to his house
after school on Monday.  Despite his revulsion, and
his torment as he relived the events over and over the
rest of the evening and as he tossed and turned all
night, and all of today at school, whenever he thought
about returning at the end of the day he not only felt
a compulsion to obey but felt himself becoming
aroused, and by the time he had arrived at Cory's he
was even more eager than the others to begin.  Jason
and Anton, least certain of all of them, arrived
shortly afterward.  They were boys and not about to
pass up an opportunity for some more fun as much as it
was contrary to their upbringing and beliefs and
despite the guilt and embarrassment both had felt
biking home yesterday and seeing each other at school
today and knowing what each other had done on Sunday. 
They were also hesitant in that they had no idea what
they might end up having to do and if they would like
it, but the uncertainty what would happen to them if
they didn't show up far outweighed the other.

Billy again had each of the boys come to the door and
Cory greet them like on Sunday, and told them to just
act as they did when they met after school and to talk
about things they always did, but to spice it up with
some four-letter words, which was not a difficulty for
most of them and was just natural for Cory and
Anthony.  Again there was no real plot, the main
purpose of the video being the action, which he
readily left to Cory.

So after a few minutes of talking about school and
teachers, music and sports, and being bored and horny,
all typical topics for the group of early teens and
preteens, Cory asked if anyone wanted something to
drink or some snacks, the first of only two cued line
in the entire video.  Of course everyone did.  Picking
up a silver bell, one of three props Billy had
brought, he rang it.  Kenneth arrived in seconds with
bowls of chips, nuts and Nachos and cans of soda and
wearing the second prop, a sheer black nylon backless
thong that he'd called faggot boy toy underwear
yesterday when he'd seen Dominic wearing one.  With
his muscular body and developing chest and pit hair
and good looks, the seventeen-year-old football
quarterback could have been a model in a woman's skin
magazine, or a gay mag.  Of course the reaction of the
early teen and preteen boys was much different, all of
them snorting and giggling in surprise and amusement,
all of course which was genuine and Billy knew would
enhance the video.

They got right into the action with Cory telling his
scantily-clad servant that his guests were horny
besides hungry, and he was expecting him, as his new
boy toy, to make them happy, the second of the lines
Billy had given him.  They began with Kenneth
seductively walking over and sitting on the sofa
between Terry and Anthony and unbuttoning their shirts
while caressing their bodies and kissing them, on the
lips and on the necks, and on down to their chests
where he nibbled on their nipples, causing them to
become firm and the boys to begin to squirm with
arousal.  While he nibbled and licked the nipples of
one boy he ran his hands along the thighs of the
other, and then vice versa.  Undoing Terry's belt and
pulling down his fly, he slipped his hand inside and
cupped the bulge in the thirteen-year-old's boxers as
Billy zoomed in on the action.  Terry raised his
buttocks so Kenneth could pull down his jeans and then
he sat and watched, his snake twitching in his boxers,
as Kenneth similarly opened Anthony's pants and groped
him and then pulled them down.  As he pulled down
their boxers, their young cocks stood straight up
looking for attention. From the way his skimpy thong
was stretched out it was evident Kenneth was turned on
also.

Dropping to his knees before the sofa he nibbled and
licked Terry's balls and cock while he reached over
and caressed Anthony's thighs and fiddled with his
cock.  Licking Terry's smooth, hairless pubes and
large balls, he stroked his thigh as he wrapped the
fingers of his other hand about Anthony's aching cock.
 Running his tongue along the rim of Terry's knob, he
caused the boy to jerk and squirm with desire.  After
a few more minutes of licking and caressing which had
the two thirteen-year-old's quivering with pleasure,
Cory took a tube of lube, the third prop Billy had
brought, out of his pocket and handed it to Kenneth. 
Squeezing out a dollop on Anthony's throbbing
dickhead, he spread it out over his circumcised knob
and down the shaft of his young cock and then
squeezing out another generous dollop on his index and
middle fingers, he reached behind and greased up his
asshole, coating his anus with the grease and slowly
slipping first the index finger and then the middle
finger into his rectum.  He'd never stuck anything up
his ass before, and he quivered with the erotic
sensation of feeling his finger slipping into the hot,
moist depths of his ass.

He then turned his attention back to Terry.  The
thirteen-year-old watched with delight as Kenneth
opened his mouth and slipped his lips over his knob,
and he smiled with pleasure as the older boy's cheeks
sunk in and he began to suck on his organ.  His
breathing grew heavier as Kenneth slowly eased his
lips down to his hairless pubes, and he squirmed and
sighed with the wild sensation of having a hot, moist
mouth totally enveloping his stiff boner.  As Kenneth
began to work his lips up and down his aching,
throbbing boy cock, Terry ran his fingers through the
boy's hair.  Anthony of course had some experience at
fucking ass, having fucked Anton's kid brother
Francois, and the lube made penetrating Kenneth easy. 
He grasped the older boy's firm buttocks and slowly
began to pump his hips to and fro, working his
throbbing, aching little boner in and out of the boy's
hot, moist rectum.  Fucking someone four years older
than himself was a totally different experience,
especially doing it before a bunch of other guys and
being taped and photographed.  He soon forgot his
self-consciousness as lust took over his mind, and his
lips curled with pleasure as he began to bang away at
Kenneth's ass, enjoying the throbbing of his hot,
moist hole and the throbbing of his own dick.

Yesterday was the first time Kenneth had ever engaged
in any sex with another male.  Yet despite being
totally heterosexual and having had no interest nor
experience in doing anything sexual with other males,
he found himself aching with lust and pleasure as he
serviced the two thirteen-year-old boys.  He sucked on
Terry's dick and worked his lips up and down the
slender young cock as if it was a candy cane, and as
the boy tensed and sighed he knew the pleasure he was
feeling between his legs and he was delighted that he
was the cause of that pleasure.  As for getting his
ass fucked, he got just as much pleasure hearing
Anthony grunting and panting and knowing that his
slender young cock was aching with the same pleasure
as Terry's and that he again was the reason for that
pleasure.  The burning stimulation of having his
sphincter stretched open for the first time in his
life, and the eroticism of having his virgin ass
fucked by a horny thirteen-year-old boy had him
squirming with his own physical pleasure.  He was
making both boys happy, as he'd been told to do.

Inhaling faster and faster and deeper and deeper,
Terry finally felt that familiar and still exciting
twang deep in his loins and he grasped Kenneth's head
and tangled his locks in his fingers as he felt his
cum begin to gush up his slender, young cock.  His
thin, watery early teen cum spurted out quickly and
forcefully, and Kenneth inhaled deeply through his
nose as he felt the watery spurts striking the roof of
his mouth and across his tongue.  He sucked deeply on
the now numb tube and swallowed as Billy took a close
up of his face.  Moments later Anthony felt the same
twang in his loins, and as he felt his cum racing up
the core of his young cock, he pulled out and shot all
over Terry's back, streaking the teenage football
player with his thin, watery juice.

Dominic and Cory were next.  Cory smiled as Kenneth
unbuckled Dominic's belt and pulled down his fly and
he saw that Dominic was wearing his nylon thong from
Sunday.  He smiled even wider when Kenneth untied the
flimsy underwear and revealed that the twelve-year-old
had a boner.  Evidently his earlier problem of not
being able to get it up wasn't a problem today. 
Squatting down between his outspread legs, Kenneth
licked his young, still developing balls, taking one
and then the other in his mouth and sucking on it,
causing the boy's cocklet to twitch with arousal. 
Dominic could not help wondering if Kenneth sucked on
his older sister's tits like he was sucking on his
balls, and as Kenneth slipped his lips over his
slender cocket and began to suck on it, the thought of
Kenneth kissing his sister with those same lips caused
a wave of erotic arousal to throb between his loins. 
He so wished his sister could see what her great
boyfriend was doing at that moment.

Cory smiled at the look of ecstasy on young Dominic's
face as he knelt behind Kenneth, his stiff early-teen
cock having been lubed by his boy toy before he'd gone
down on Dominic.  Grasping the seventeen-year-old's
hips, he easily sank his cock up his rectum.  Having
plowed Anton's ass and Anton's mother's ass, and
having popped Dominic's prune yesterday, he was
becoming a pro ass fucker.  He paused and concentrated
on the sensation of having a hot, moist asshole
surrounding and throbbing about his young bone,
enjoying the feeling for a moment before beginning to
fuck.  He then slowly began to pump his hips,
delighting in the friction that caused his dickhead to
burn and his shaft to throb.  It was fucking awesome
being a boy.  He looked down at the spatters of cum
his best buddy Anthony had left on the teenager's back
as he worked his cock in and out of the hole his best
buddy's cock had just been in.  That was a weird
thought and he quivered with the delight it brought.

Dominic saw Cory's smile and he delighted as much in
seeing his pleasure as in the pleasure he himself was
feeling between his legs.  That he'd gotten a bone on
that afternoon with no difficulty had not gone by
unnoticed, and he knew it had to do with having sex in
the presence of other guys, and particularly being in
the presence of Cory Wilson.  As he looked past the
cum spatters on Kenneth's back and at Cory's young
cock pistoning in and out of his ass, he knew how it
felt to be fucked, and in a way he envied Kenneth,
particularly in that it was Cory's cock that was
inside him.  Getting his cock sucked and having sex
along with Cory was great too of course, and as he
felt the pressure developing in his loins he looked up
Cory just as Cory did the same and their eyes met. 
Dominic smiled with admiration and delight at his new
friend, and their eyes were still locked as his dry
orgasm shot through his loins and caused him to
quiver.  Cory knew very well what was happening from
the curl of Dominic's lips and the shine in his pretty
steel-blue eyes, and knowing he was climaxing brought
Cory to his peak.  Like Anthony, he pulled out at the
last second and added his watery early teen juice to
the shots Anthony had laced Kenneth's back and butt
with, his eyes locked on Dominic's also.

Anton and Jason followed, Jason choosing to get sucked
as it was an experience he'd had the day before and
something he knew, and because the idea of sticking
his cock up another guy's ass was repulsive despite
the obvious pleasure Anthony and Cory had felt.  After
watching the other two pairs of boys getting off, he
of course already had a boner, and that he'd boned up
watching guys having sex and anticipating the same
bothered him greatly.  He was randy, but there was
only one type of boy who got randy under those
situations.  Up until yesterday he'd have sworn he'd
never get aroused by faggot sex, and up until
yesterday he'd considered guys who had sex with other
guys as sick pervs.  He still did.  Despite the
pleasure throbbing between his legs as Kenneth sucked
on his cock and worked his lips up and down the shaft,
it was faggot sex, and the seventeen-year-old boy
sucking on his cock was a sick perv.  The difference
between the two of them was that he was not the one
doing the sucking.

Anton was not very keen on what he was about to do as
he knelt behind Kenneth, but he had no choice. 
Getting your cock sucked was one thing, but sticking
it up someone's filthy asshole was a totally different
thing.  He of course knew about ass fucking, having
been fucked several times by Cory in front of his
father and brother, and he and his kid brother getting
fucked in front of their father eleven times now in
the park.  He knew it was eleven times because after
each and every time he twisted and turned in shame and
torment for the rest of the day and waited in fear and
loathing for the next time.  Now it was his turn to do
the fucking.  As he slipped his slender
twelve-year-old cock up Kenneth's rectum, he knew
exactly how Kenneth was feeling, and now for the first
time he discovered what it was like to be the fucker. 
As Kenneth's hot, wet ass tightened about his cock he
was surprised just how tight it felt, and as he began
to pump his hips to and fro he was surprised just how
pleasant it was.  Having a hot, throbbing ass
surrounding your dick while it throbbed and ached with
that burning pleasure was not a bad thing.  So what
did that make him?

It was with that thought that he felt the twitch at
the base of his cock and like Cory and Anthony had
done, he withdrew it.  This day his balls had decided
to function and they squirted out a thin quick two
spurts of his still developing, preteen fluids, adding
them to the spatters of Cory and Anthony.  Jason
squirmed and sighed with pleasure as he too came,
spurting his young seed into Kenneth's mouth.  The two
boys glanced across his naked body at each other,
their sexual pleasure evident in the shine of their
eyes and they blushed with embarrassment and shame for
having come and for having enjoyed it and especially
for having enjoyed engaging in fag sex.

Kenneth Ballard saw nothing wrong with what they had
done.  He had but one thought on his mind and one
purpose in his life, and that was to please the boys
as he'd been told.  That was his duty, his desire.  He
was a boy and he knew the pleasure of having a hot,
throbbing cock being stroked, and the powerful
pleasure of climaxing, whether it be dry or wet.  Of
course his own knowledge came totally from pleasuring
himself with his hand, but having your aching cock
stroked by a pair of lips or by shoving it up an ass
had to be as pleasant, and probably even more so in
that it was doing it with another person.  So it was
with another guy, so  what?  Was a guy's mouth or ass
any different from a woman's?  In fact it had to be
better.  A guy knew what it was like to have a cock.

That he'd brought the boys pleasure there was no
doubt.  The smiles on their flushed faces, their now
limp and wet cocks, the taste of young boy cum in his
mouth and the hot, sticky spatters of it on his back,
they were evidence of his success.  So, when Cory told
him to remove his thong and to jack himself off he did
so willingly, because Cory told him, and because it
would bring Cory and his friends still more pleasure. 
He slipped his shirt on so as not to stain the carpet
and lay on his back and threw his legs over his head. 
His shirt stuck to his back as he stroked his hard,
throbbing seven-inch cock, feeling so large compared
to the slender dicklets of the boys.  It throbbed with
pleasure as he drew his foreskin all the way back to
reveal his mushroom-shaped knob to his audience, and
he quivered with the electric shocks that ripped
through the glans as he pushed his foreskin back over
it.  It felt great, as it always did, and doing it
there surrounded by six naked, flushed boys felt even
better than when he did it at night in his bed
thinking of Nikki Halder.  He was bringing not just
himself pleasure but them too by the act.  He stared
at the pee slit as he felt himself coming, watching
for the first shot of his juice just as the six boys
around him were watching with as much anticipation. 
As he spattered his chest with his hot, thick creamy
load, he sighed with the pleasure and looking up at
the smiling faces of the boys gathered around him, he
knew he'd done well.  

*********

Thanks to Ben for suggesting the characters of Ben,
Molly, and Nick, whom we'll be seeing more of in later
chapters along with Molly's two girlfriends.  What
else would you like to see happen?  What movies would
you like Billy Dean to produce?  What fun and havoc
can Cory create while living with the Gilles's and
with his own home vacant of supervising parents?  Have
you ever had someone you hated and wanted to get even
with?  Email me your idea and I'll write it as part of
this story and if you wish add you as one of the
characters.  Anything goes, the hotter and more
perverted the better, except I don't write snuff and
torture of kids and anything involving player
characters would need their permission.  Non player
characters available for your amusement and abuse
include the Gilles family, Vice Principal Stuart
Millburne, Baptist Pastor Winthrop and his family,
Kenneth Ballard and his mother, and Father Henry. 
Player characters created by readers so far are
Dominic, Terry, Anthony, Bob, Billy Dean and Ben
Hanson with a supporting cast of Jonah and Lane,
Nicole Halder, Molly Vickers and boyfriend Nick, and
of course Lad and the star of the series, Cory.


	

	
		
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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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