Disclaimer: This is just a story, not reality.  If this sounds like anyone you know, it's pure coincidence.  Don't read it if you're not supposed to.  You know the drill.

	Eric - Chapter 6: Runaway
	Warnings: Mb, extreme pedo, ws
	(c) 2009 storieseric@gmail.com


I ran away from home once.  I can't remember why, but it was something stupid.  Daddy Rae knew I was running away, but didn't stop me.  It was mostly him I was upset at, and he knew I was trying to out-stubborn him.  I stomped down the sidewalk carrying my cat, Fluffy, in my backpack.  He waved from the front door and said he expected me back by supper.

The first place I went was Daniel's tree house.  Daniel is one of my best friends and lives only a couple of blocks away.  A couple of blocks is a long way to carry a heavy cat that's not used to being in a backpack.  At first she wasn't so heavy, but she kept clawing my back every time she turned to look at something different.  So I ended up carrying the backpack in my arms.  My original goal was Z's Comics, but after one block the treehouse seemed like a much better idea.  I reasoned that Fluffy was afraid of heights, so she wouldn't run away, and perhaps I could sleep there for a little while.  I'd get a job at Z's, buy a ticket to Hollywood, and my life would be great from then on, or something.

I think the only thing I wasn't wrong about was the part about buying a ticket.  Greyhound has a policy about never denying a ride to runaways.

Daniel wasn't at home.  I climbed into the trehouse anyway and set out some kibble for Fluffy.  Mrs. Kenedy was at her back door when I came down.

"Daniel's not due back from camp until 3.  Were you planning on waiting for him?"  Daniel's mom was kind and a better cook than either of my dads.  She also had this knack of being there whenever you tried to get away with something.  I was often glad she worked evenings as a nurse.

"Hi, Mrs. Kenedy.  No, just putting some stuff here for later."  That was a common excuse for being in the treehouse by myself.  It was true this time, too.  In addittion to Fluffy, I had a change of clothes, two Powerbars, a ziplock bag of kibble, and about $15.  I had thought a little bit ahead, at least.

Mrs. Kenedy watched as I cut through her neighbors' yards.  I think I get it now.  Adults were everywhere, always watching everything I did.  And all they seemed to do was make rules and give me chores or homework.  I've always been an independant person.  That day I must have blown up and decided I didn't need adults looking after me.

Z's Compics was downtown.  By the time I got there I had resolved not to sleep in the treehouse, but somewhere where no one knew who I was.  I had also thought through everything I was going to say to convince Zeke to give me a job.

Are the details of the conversation important?  It was mostly embarassing.  Seems it's illegal to hire eight year olds, and Zeke wasn't willing to bend that rule.  Telling him I only needed work long enough to buy a bus ticket didn't help.  There was also the fact that knowing every detail about the X-Men wasn't a useful job skill.

'So hiring kids is illegal,' I thought.  'Where do I find someone willing to do something illegal?'

I wandered, not sure what to do next.  A while later I was getting hungry, and I saw a help wanted sign in a bar that high school kids talked about.  Normally I avoided this part of town.  Now it seemed like an opportunity.

The inside of the bar was dark, even though it was just after lunch.  There was a picture on the wall that Daddy Rae would have liked, of a man in leather being mounted by a lion.  The air felt smoky and was full of unfamiliar smells.

"A little young to drink, aren't you?" said a thick necked man at the door.  I made a disgusted face at him and continued inside.  I don't know what adults see in alcohol.  It always tastes so vile, no matter what they do to it.  And it makes you do stupid things.

The bartender was not what I had pictured, if I had pictured anything.  He was thin, soft, and had a silver horn piercing his lower lip.

"Need something, son?"  Normal voice, like a cachier at the grocery store.  I could tell he was ready to deny whatever request I might have.  I stepped up close so I could whisper, and his eyes flicked down my loose shirt.

"I need a job, and you don't have to tell anyone about it.  I'll do anything.  I learn fast.  I just need $100 a week."  Was that too much?  How much does someone normaly make in a week?  Should I have asked for more?

I was prepared for him to laugh.  I was prepared for him to argue.  I wasn't prepared to haggle, but at least I expected that.  Instead, he leaned closer to me and dropped his voice.

"I couldn't have you seen by the customers.  You wouldn't stay secret long."  His eyes flicked down my body again.  "Anything, huh?"

I nodded eagerly, then paused, beginning to suspect what he had in mind.

"I can't promise you regular work.  But if you come in back and give me a taste, I'd pay you $50."

"Um... I didn't mean-"

"You need the money, right?"  He smiled while I just stood there, stunned.  "Tell you what.  You think about it.  If you decide to accept, come in through the back door.  Fewer questions that way."

I tried to back out casually, certain my face was bright red and that everyone instantly knew what we were talking about.  The door man laughed and shouted a question back inside.  As soon as I hit the street, I was running back home.  Or, well, Daniel's treehouse.  I remembered that after about four blocks.



Fluffy was gone when I got there.  She was either gone or back home, so I didn't bother looking for her.  Instead, I moped.  Nothing was turning out right.  I heard Daniel and his Dad unpack the car and decided to wait instead of help.  I was still determined to be stubborn, though.  Perhaps I could hitchhike to Hollywood.  I didn't really need money.  I could live on the streets until I got work as an actor.  Of course, first I had to tell Daniel my plans.

Daniel was supportive, in a way.  He listened to me complain, andagreed or was sympathetic where appropriate.  But he didn't believe that I was really going to run away.  And he reacted to the bar incident much differently than I expected.

"Fifty dollars?  Wow.  You should do it!"

"Eww.  That's prostitution, you know."

"Sp?  You get moeny and you get to have sex!"

"Eww."  I was thinking sex with some stranger with weird piercings in a smelly bar.  He was thinking the first chance he ever had to have sex.  I wanted to explain the difference to him, if I could figure out how without telling secrets.

"Four times, and you could get your own DS."

Pokemon derailed my thoughts completely.  The topic came up again in jest a few times throughout the day, but I never figured out an appropriate thing to say.  Not that I really thought about it hard.  I did start noticing how often Daniel adjusted himself, and began to wonder if he had a crush on me.

I got to talk about it that night, with Mr. Kenedy of all people.  When Daniel went to bed, I went to the treehouse.  My first night sleeping outside.  It was cold!  I tried to use my spare clothes as a blanket.  They didn't do so well.  Summer was s'posed to be warm, right?  I must've made a racket, because Mr. Kenedy climbed up the ladder.

"Eric?"  I srugged miserably in response.  "Shouldn't you be at home?"  I shivvered and thought about shaking my head.  Cold does wonders for getting rid of stubbornness, though.

"Maybe."

He looked at me and sighed.  I think he knew he wasn't as observant as Mrs. Kenedy, and tried to be extra patient with me.  He climbed in the rest of the way anf wrapped a warm arm around me.  I hugged onto him, absorbing as much warmth as I could, and no doubt confusing him more.

"Do you want to talk about it?"  I shrugged again and waited for my teeth to behave.

"I'm trying to run away."

"From home?"

I nodded.  "It's not working."  I could feel different thoughts go through him, as he tensed in different ways.

"Is something bad happening at home?"

Complaining about your parents to your friendis one thing.  Complaining to his dad is something else.  He might want to do something about it.  I shook my head and tried to chage the subject.

"A guy offered me fifty bucks for sex."  He tensed up imediately, mostly in anger but I could feel his willy swelling against my thigh.

"Someone you know?"

"No."

"One of your fathers' friends?"

"No, a stranger."

He looked down at me, his face softening to worry.  "Did you...?"

"No, I ran."

"Good."  He hugged me tight for a while.  "Ok, I'm confused.  What does this have to do with why you're running away?"

"Nothing," I giggled.  "I was trying to get a job."  I shifted as an excuse to rub my thigh against his stiffy.  Inappropriate, I know, but I couldn't resist teasing.  I didn't know if he liked me that way.  I just liked thinking he did.

"Were you looking for sex?"  I burst out laughing.  He wasn't just on another page, he had a different book.

"You're trying too hard.  Just listen for a bit."  He grunted and waited patiently while I gathered my thoughts.  His hands rubbing my back and arms were becoming distracting.

"Mmm... There's no real question, just a bunch of thoughts.  Prostitution is icky, but sex is supposed to be good, and so is making money.  Girls who have sex are called whores, even if they don't make money.  Boys who have sex are called what?  Gay if it's with another boy.  What if it's with an adult?  Danny thinks getting sex would be worth anything.  Sad I was stupid forut it is still icky, and I don't know why."

I looked up at him working his jaw, like it was a real effort to keep from interrupting.

"Oh.  And yes, I've had The Talk.  And no, I haven't done anything with Danny."

I squirmed to between his legs with my back against his belly and drew his arms around me.  The cold wasn't really getting better.  Going inside wouldn't work, though.  Mrs. Kenedy would hear everything.

He stayed quiet for longer than I expected.

"You really should be talking to one of your fathers about this."

"Running away from home."

"Point."  He sighed, hugged tighter, then drew back.  "I could tell you what I think.  But a lot of people believe differently than I do."

I shrugged.  "I believe lots of things others don't."

"And some believe me talking to you about sex would be wrong."

"I'm good at secrets."

He laughed for the first time that night.  "So I hear.  You've nearly driven Danny mad on more than one occasion."

I giggled with shivvering teeth.  He 'hmm'ed down at me.

"Tammy will be wondering where I am."

"Hey," I whined, holding onto him.

"I'll answer your questions.  But first you need some blankets and something hot to drink."

"Orange tea!"

He ruffled my hair and left, returning after about ten minutes with a camping bag and a thermous.  I drank tea while he unpacked a huge sleeping bag and made room for everything.  There was small talk I can't remember.  We both got into the sleeping bag for warmth, and I noticed him become uncomfortable again.  I almost laughed and said he could molest me if he wanted to, but I suddenly got shy.  He stopped mid-sentence and looked at me.

I looked at my hands.  "Do you think sex is wrong?"

"No."  I peered up at him suspiciously.

"But, you said-"

"It's dangerous."  I thought about that.  He continued.  "Going somewhere private with a stranger.  You could easily get hurt."  He wrapped an arm around me protectively.

"Icky people."

He nodded.  "But that's not all.  Sex is supposed to be something special you share with your friends.  How would you feel if someone offered you money to be your friend for one hour, then forget he exists until the next time he can pay you?"

"That's be weird."

"Weird, dangerous, but not bad.  In Japan, they have geishas, which are like prostitues who also act like your mother, er, parent."

"Why woul you want that?"  I could feel his stiffy again and wondered if geishas were special to him.

"Well, us adults sometimes miss the comfort our parents gave us.  Having someone to make it all better when you're feeling down.  Someone who can make you feel safe again."  He grinned and winked.  "And some people like the idea of a boy having sex with his mommy or daddy."

I made the appropriate 'ew' face, like any of my classmates would have, and giggled.  He blushed, and I wondered if I had reacted wrong.

"Do you?"  I asked.  He looked uncertain, so I continued, "like little boys and their parents having sex?"

He hesitated, rubbing my back.  His blush didn't go away.

"Have you had sex?"  I gave him a look which could have been 'no way' or 'like I'd tell'.  He laughed, "I won't ask with who, I just want to know."

I thought about it.  Adults are good at finding things out.  But I trusted him to keep his word.  And I could tell he really wanted me to say yes.  I nodded.

"Was it good or icky?"

"Good!"  He relaxed as soon as I started to answer.

"See, I think good sex should be shared between parents and their kids.  That's a secret.  I think you already know what most people would think if they knew I felt that way.  In a way, you're kind of a dream come true for me."  I grinned and put my hand on his stiffy.  "That too.  But I meant being able to talk about this."

"Mrs. Kenedy doesn't know?"  He tensed briefly and shook his head.

"I've been afraid.  And until now, I didn't know anyone who had good sex with a child.  What if everyone else turned out to be right?"

I only knew one way to comfort him.  I squeezed his stiffy.  "Do you like me?"  He moaned and spread his legs, stretching the sleeping bag.  I giggled and rolled between his legs, pressing my stiffy against his and resting my chin on his chest.

He closed his eyes and shuddered.  I just lay on him and waited.  Seducing adults is always fun, when I like them.  Especially when they need time to work up their nerve.

After a bit, he skid his fingers under my waistband and stopped with his fingertips on my bottom.  I flexed my muscles encouraginly.  He moaned again but didn't move his hand.  I watched and waited.

"If... we do this..."  He opened his eyes to see me looking into them, smiling.  "Tammy will find out.  I couldn't keep it from her frever."

The one argument that could win against me.  I'd heard it before.  My disappointment must have shown, but I didn't move or say anything.  He closed his eyes again and let his head fall back.

Then his hand slipped further into my shorts and squeezed a cheek.  "Would you stand up for me?"

"Huh?"

"Tammy might understand.  She probably suspects me already.  If you told her your side of it, it might help."

That was a first for me.  I had to think about it.  "No lying, but no asking about secrets."

He pulled me up and kissed me on the mouth, one hand in my armpit and the other on my bottom.  My mouth was open, his wasn't yet.

"And you said Danny wants sex too.  Either I'm going to be in a lot of trouble, or my life is going to get much better very quickly."  I giggled and squeezed his fingers with my bottom.  This is what I liked.  All this happiness directed at me.  Suddenly I realized why I thought prostitution was icky.  The lust would be there, but instead of happiness there would be money.

He let go of my bottom to unbutton his pants and and we wriggled our legs to shove everything but our shirts to the bottom of the sleeping bag.  I had to scoot down a little to keep from accidentally kicking him in the balls.  He lifted my shirt off and explored my body with his hands.

His hands were plesantly rough and he smelled clean, no sweat or colognes.  At first he just wanted to touch me all over, finding out which spots made one or both of us moan.  I soaked up the attention and good feelings, occasionally squirming when he tickled.

He seemed facinated with my chest and armpits, so I scooted up again and braced myself with my chest almost touching his face.  He kissed and sucked on my nipples, drawing more moans and giggles from me.  Then he kissed his way to each armpit and licked it clean, making me laugh and squirm.

When I couldn't take any more tickles, I scooted up and pressed my stiffy to his mouth.  He smiled indulgently and slurped me in, and my hips started thrusting on their own.  The tingling grew and grew.  For a while I wondered if I was going to cum, or if it would just keep going.  Then I came in a long dry shudder, mouth open and tongue curling in a silent scream.

I sat back on his hand and discovered he had already worked two fingers into me.  I wriggled my bottom and sat down harder, making my shiny stiffy wag like the tail of a puppy.  It was too sensative to touch, but the motion felt good.  His other hand pet my chest slick with saliva and sweat.

"I've fantasized about that all my life.  Did you like it?"

"Course!"  I bounced again, making my stiffy smack my belly.  "You gonna fuck me now?"  I grinned at saying a word when he couldn't yell at me for it.

"Ah... I can't.  I came."

"Lemme see!"  I unzipped the sleeping bag and threw it open.  Mr. Kenedy had made a tent with his knees to keep from making it messy.  I rubbed his cum all over his softening stiffy, trying to get him hard again.  He didn't quite go soft, but he didn't get hard enough to keep from bending, either.  He did make lots of funny sounds.

We cleaned up with a towel and some leftover tea.  Then we cuddled while he told me his story, which I might include later but probably not.  He thought it best if we didn't play sex anymore that night, so I slept naked in his arms.  He still had his shirt on.



Cold mornings are especially hard to wake up to.  Mr. Kenedy was gone.  I ate the Powerbars, drank the last of the tea, and thought about how much trouble I was going to be in when I went home.

But first, bathroom.  I ran into the Kenedy's house and releived myself.  When I came out of the bathroom, Mrs. Kenedy was glaring at me, hands on hips and everything.

"You.  Kitchen.  Right now.  And stay there until I come for you."

And so I sat on a hard wooden chair for what felt like hours, listening to Mrs. Kenedy talk to Daniel and Mr. Kenedy seperately.  I couldn't make out any words, but heard the full range of emotions, although who voiced them often surprised me.

Daniel once gave a wordless shout of frustration and anger.  Mr. Kenedy sounded alternately hurt and disbelieving.  Mrs. Kenedy was always too quiet to hear.

So, I expected Doom when Mrs. Kenedy finally came for me.  Pouring a glass of Pepsi and setting it in front of me ddn't calm me.  Nice, friendly Doom lasts longer.  But I had promised.

"Why don't you tell me your story of what happened last night.  You've probably rehearsed one by now."  She leaned back against the counter.

"Um... I seduced Mr. Kenedy.  It just sortof happened.  He was talking me out of running away from home."

"Did you think about how it might make me feel?"

"Huh?"  I was honestly confused.  Sure, I figured she would be mad, but that was all.  Se laughed, which didn't help my confusion.

"How many men have you seduced besides my husband?"

"Um,"  I hadn't exactly kept count.  "Four?"

"Why?"

"Um, playing sex is fun?  And they like it, but they're scared."

"Playing sex, huh?" se laughed.  "You're not helping me, you know."

"Are you going to tell me sex is bad an' I'm too young to do bad things?"

"I'm supposed to be mad at you.  I should be mad at Richard.  You're both being so cute, though."

She was quiet for a bit and I was afraid to say anything.  There was a Calvin and Hobbes comic where Calvin stole the car and had a low speed crash because he couldn't drive.  His parents rushed out and comforted him, releived that he was ok.  Calvin was confused because he was expecting to be yelled at.  I felt like that.  Where was the Doom?

"Richard said not to ask, but I have to know.  Do your parents know you have sex?"

I bit my lip.  Not answering that question would be the same as agreeing to it.  "Not a fair question.  You could ask about anybody.  If I say 'yes' they get in trouble even if I lied.  If I say 'no' they get in trouble because you think I lied."

"Sounds like you memorized that."  I nodded and smiled.  She grunted.  "I bet you've reheared this entire conversation."

I giggled.  "Kinda."

"What if I say I'll believe you?"

"You won't.  You can't."

"Ok mr. smartypants.  What do you think I should do about this?"

I hadn't expected to be asked for advice, but after thinking about it I had some.  And she might actually follow it.

"Look it up online," I grinned.  "Google 'child sexuality'.  Don't search 'NAMBLA', they're weird.  And 'boylove' will just get manga."  She was looking at me weird.  "When I can't ask an adlt, I look it up."

"Don't you fathers use filters on your computers?"

"They try."

"Kids."  That sounded normal.  I started drinking my Pepsi.  "We'll keep this between us for now, but don't think you're off the hook."

There was more to the conversation, but truthfully it was hard to remember that much accurately.  Mrs. Kenedy made me call my parents and have them pick me up.  I was handed over with a "Here's your little runaway."  Daddy Rae laughed that my idea of running away was an impromptu sleepover at a friends house.

Punishment for running away was no sex for a week.  And Mrs. Kenedy didn't let me visit Daniel or Mr. Kenedy for a month, although Daniel could visit me.

Mr. and Mrs. Kenedy worked something out, but I never found out what.  They got along fine again, and Daniel stopped joking about sex all the time.  I'd like to think he was playing sex with his daddy, and maybe with his mommy too, but I never saw it.  Mr. Kenedy hinted that he was going to stuff my bottom with his stiffy, but that hasn't happened yet.  Perhaps something will happen this summer.



That was the longest point I've ever made.  Too bad I can't turn this in as an english paper.
