This is a work of fiction.  If you have trouble with the boundary between
fact and fantasy, don't read it.  If the story codes following the title
freak you out, don't read it.  If I mis-coded drop me a note through the
author email link at ASSTR.  Do not under any circumstances forward this
file to anyone that hasn't specifically requested it.  In case you haven't
figured it out yet this is intended as *adult* entertainment.  Do not allow
it to be accessed by minors.  If you have inadvertently downloaded it in a
jurisdiction where such material isn't legal please delete it immediately.
Do not re-post in whole or in part without this notice.  Do not repost on
any "for profit" site without my specific written permission.  Copyright
2012 by Lizard69.

   Girlfriends (Mb, reluct, humil)

   Lizard69



   Timmy sat on the park bench bored out of his mind.  Billy, his only real
friend in the neighborhood, was off visiting his uncle.  In two weeks he'd
return with a whole bunch of wild stories about his vacation.  Yeah, they'd
have things to talk about later, but right now summer vacation wasn't even
three weeks old and he had nothing to do.

   The guy in the white cargo van was nervous.  It wasn't that he was new
to this.  He was in his mid twenties and found out he was "different" when
he wasn't much older than the kid in front of him.  Between boy scouts, the
youth group at church, and sitting for his sisters kids he'd always managed
to keep something going and one or two more in the pipeline.  That was
finished now.  Sis wasn't eager to tell the world that she'd walked in on
her passed out boyfriend and caught her son sucking his dick.  She kept on
bugging the kid though, until he told her where he learned how.  Given a
choice of get the fuck out and don't come back, or "will the defendant
please rise", Bob had hit the road.  Now it was way too long since he'd had
any and this kid looked sooo sweet!  Ten, maybe twelve, blue eyes and a
blond buzz cut, it was hard to judge sitting down but he had to be under
five foot and oh so slim.  He couldn't go more than eighty pounds soaking
wet.  The problem was he'd never grabbed a kid off the street and wasn't
sure he had the nerve to do whatever it took to stay out of jail.

   "Hey kid, you live around here?"

   The guy in front of Timmy wasn't anything special.  Medium length brown
hair, mustache, dressed in jeans and teeshirt, he was holding a folded map.

   "I'm supposed to make a delivery at 2021 Maple Lane.  This is Maple
Street, but I can't find Maple Lane and I'm already late.  If you can show
me where to go and give me a hand unloading I'll be glad to pay you for the
help."

   "You have to go the other way.  It turns into Maple Lane a couple blocks
from here but 2021 is out at the edge of town.  I don't have anything else
to do but you have to give me a ride back after.  I don't want to walk that
far."

   "Great!  Get in on the drivers side.  The other door latch is busted and
I never use it so I didn't bother getting it fixed."

   There was a cargo barrier behind the seats but it wasn't until they
didn't stop at the address he gave that Timmy realized he was trapped.  The
only way out was past the driver and that wasn't going to happen.

   "It isn't too much farther kid.  If you do what you're told and don't
give me any trouble everything will be all right."

   "Mister...  I'm a kid, but I'm not retarded.  If you lied about where we
were going why should I believe anything else you say?  My guess is that
you're going to do stuff you don't want anyone to know about.  That means
first you have to take me somewhere private.  Then, when you're done, you
have to make sure I don't tell anyone.  There's only two ways to do that.
One is for me to tell you a secret, something really important.  That way
you'll know I won't tell your secret because if I do you'll tell mine.  The
only other choice is that I don't get to go home."

   "What's your name kid?"

   "Timmy."

   "Well, Timmy, It sounds to me like you're too smart for your own good.
Kids can't get into the kind of deep trouble grownups can.  What secret
could a boy your age have that would make me sure you won't tell?"

   "Uh...  mister?"

   "Call me Bob."

   "OK Bob.  You know that grownups do sex.  It isn't nice to talk about
it, but it's OK for them to do it.  Right?"

   "Yeah, so what?"

   "Most guys like to do it with young, pretty, girls.  Some guys are
perverts who like to do it with *really* young girls, my age or even
younger.  Right?"

   "Uh huh."

   "So you know how sometimes if the pervert is really horny, and the girl
doesn't want to, he'll make her do it anyway?"

   "Yeah."

   "I...  Uh...  Well...  I want to be the girl."

   He almost ran off the road.  When he finally got it parked all he could
do for a minute was stare.  Shit like this doesn't happen in real life!

   "You have *got* to be fuckin' kidding!  Where in the hell did you ever
get the idea to do something like that!?"

   "I guess it started with Debbie, a girl at school.  We found out that
some old guy molested her.  Me and a couple other guys asked her about it
while we were waiting for the bus.  Everybody is always telling us to be
careful and watch out for child molesters but nobody tells us what it is.
So we asked her what he did, exactly, and she told us.

   "They couldn't do regular sex because he was a grown up and she was
still a kid.  His boy parts were too big to fit in her girl parts.  So he
did it in her mouth instead and up her ass.  I was thinking about that, her
doing that, and I got really embarrassed because I started getting stiff. I
didn't want her to think I was some kind of sicko pervert.  Well, one of
the other guys said something about being glad he wasn't a girl and she
laughed at him.  She said her counselor told her that wouldn't matter. 
Boys have mouths and ass holes too.  Most perverts who go after kids don't
really care about anything but age.  If they can't find a girl they'll do
it to a boy instead.  Some even like boys better because it's harder for a
boy to tell.  A lot of the time the boy will get stiff while the pervert is
doing things and he'll be afraid that if he tells everyone will think he's
a queer."

   "I had to leave then.  The bus was there but I would have had to leave
anyway.  I was so stiff it hurt and I didn't want anyone to see the bulge
in my pants.  It went down after a while but got stiff again any time I
thought of a pervert wanting to do that to me."

   "So you want to do it with me?"

   "Not exactly."

   "Then what do you want?"

   "I told you.  I want you to make me do it."

   "You mean like tear your clothes off and slap you around until you do
what I want"?

   "More like that prison movie they showed us in school.  Like all these
big guys want to do stuff to me and you'll keep them away but only if I do
it with you any time you want."

   "You're already thinking of this as a regular thing?"

   "Only if we find a way to keep it secret.  Maybe you can be like one of
those big brothers in the TV commercials.  I'd tell my mom that we go
places and do stuff.  You know, play catch, go fishing, hang out and talk
about guy stuff.  We could even do some of that if you want.  Until my
friend Billy gets back from vacation I don't have anything to do or anyone
to do it with."

   "That might work.  I can't be part of the regular program.  They screen
those guys pretty carefully.  See if you can talk your mom into letting you
help out at the kennel.  Nobody looks at a job offer too close."

   "Way cool!  It'll be like having a secret identity.  Everybody will
think you're this great guy for letting me hang out with you.  I'll be that
nice boy who volunteered to help out at the kennel.  Only, when you can't
find a date or your girlfriend won't do it, I'm your other girl.  There's
no WAY I'd tell anyone.  How would I explain *asking* to be some creeps
girlfriend?  But you have to promise that as long as I never tell anybody,
you won't either.  OK?"

   "We have a deal."

   "Then prove it!  Let me get out and far enough away I could take off if
I wanted.  You haven't actually done anything yet so you can't get in
trouble."

   "No kid, you haven't done anything.  If a cop knew about this
conversation I'd already be in deep shit."

   "OK, You're taking a chance, but sooner or later you have to take a
chance anyway.  If you let me go after you do it you're taking a chance I
won't tell.  If you don't let me go you're taking a bigger chance that
nobody will figure out what happened.  If you let me out now and I go with
you anyway it's sort of like I'm coming back for more even if it's only the
first time."

   Bob thought it over and the kid had a point.  He was taking chances
regardless.  Besides, the idea of this sweet kid climbing into his van
knowing that a creepy stranger was going to take his cherry was just too
hot.  He'd done a couple of kids often enough they started showing up as a
regular thing but he'd never even fantasized about something like this. 
Without another word He climbed out leaving the door open and popped the
hood.

   While pretending to fiddle with the engine Bob peered past the curb side
of the van watching Timmy walk away in the direction they came from.  There
was a woman doing yard work half way up the block but the kid didn't go
very far before turning around and getting back in the van.  He sat there
staring out the side window while Bob started up and pulled out into
traffic.

   "My mom told me to be there by six for supper.  It's not even one
o'clock yet.  You have the whole afternoon so, like, don't be in a hurry,
OK?  Where are you taking me?"

   "I'm house sitting for the guy who owns the kennel just outside town. 
It's closed for the rest of the month.  Only his own dogs are there now. 
We'll stay out of the office part of the building.  There aren't any
windows in the storage area and with the dogs barking and whining out back,
even if somebody stops they won't hear anything going on inside."

   It didn't take long for Bob to feed and water the dogs in the kennel. 
He had Timmy wait inside just in case somebody stopped.  When he finished
with the dogs he found the boy leaning back against a wall, hugging himself
as if he was cold, and staring at the toes of his sneakers.  Before he
could ask, the kid started to speak.

   "What you said before, about tearing my clothes off and slapping me
around, would you really do that?"

   "If it's the only way to get you to do it.  You can start by taking your
clothes off."

   His hands kind of fluttered around as he made a couple of false starts.

   "Don't get mad, OK?  I've thought about it...  a lot...  but there's a
humongous difference between thinking about it and actually doing
something. Besides, you're not just gonna make me do stuff kids don't do,
it's stuff I wouldn't do even if I was a grown up.  I've never been a
pervert before."

   "You think you're a pervert?  What about me?"

   "For sure!  The thing is, sick weirdo perverts don't pop up out of
nowhere all grown up.  You didn't go to sleep one night normal and wake up
the next day a pervert.  My friend Billy has a really creepy uncle.  His
uncle says he was always a pervert but he didn't know it until he got old
enough to start getting horny.  That's when he found out that he got horny
over different stuff than his friends."

   He straightened up and peeled his teeshirt off tossing it into a corner.
There were a couple rows of pallets piled with kennel supplies.  Bob
watched while the kid sat on one to take off his sneakers.  When he stood
up he unfastened his jeans, pushed them down and kicked them over to join
his shirt.  Bob could hardly believe what he was seeing.  The tight white
briefs weren't doing much to hide a nice little erection, there was even a
wet spot where a drop of pre-cum had soaked through the cotton.  Hooking
his thumbs in the waistband of his underpants, the kid pushed them down
until they fell around his ankles then added them to the pile.  He stood
there blushing like a beet but Bob hardly noticed.  Timmy's cock wasn't
anything special, about as thick as Bob's thumb and a little over four
inches long.  What held his attention was the way it pointed at the
ceiling, stiff as a spike, while a glistening drop of fluid began to form
at the tip.

   "Well kid, I guess it's time for you to find out what it's like with a
pervert.  Even if you have a friend telling you all about it you can't
really *know* what it's like until you do it."

   "Debbie said the first time hurts."

   Bob stepped in and lifted Timmy's chin until he was looking into his
eyes while he gently cupped the child's hairless nut sack.  He began to
slowly run a fingertip up and down the underside of Timmy's cock, pausing
now and then to swirl the pre-cum oozing from the tip around the head of
the stiff little prick.

   "Yes Timmy, it can hurt at first.  How bad and how long partly depends
on you.  It can be really bad if you tense up and fight it.  If you can
accept that you're going to be fucked and you try to relax and let it
happen it goes a lot easier.  Some creeps will get rough just to hear a kid
squeal.  Let's add to our deal.  If you do what you can to make it more fun
for me, I'll do what I can to make it easier for you."

   "OK."

   "You're one sick little puppy.  I like that in a kid.  I'm going to
check the vet cabinet.  There should be some kind of lube in there."

   Bob didn't recognize the brand but there was a tube of something
slippery next to the rectal thermometer.  In the couple minutes he was gone
the boy had found a pallet stacked waist high with bags of kibble.  He was
sitting there trying to look like he was waiting for a bus instead of being
so scared he was ready to bolt.

   "Uh, what now?"

   "Lay back and pull your knees up and apart."

   "Not, 'bend over'?"

   "Nah, I like to watch a kids face while I'm fucking him."

   Timmy swallowed hard and did as he was told.  From his expression he'd
skipped having second thoughts and moved directly to third or fourth.

   The boy relaxed a little as Bob dropped his pants and squeezed out a
palm full of lube.  One of the reasons he'd never been reported for fucking
kids is that his own dick wasn't exactly huge.  It was long enough, a
couple inches longer than Timmy's, but not much thicker.  A kid seeing a
big thick dick knows it's going to hurt and gets so tense it hurts even
worse.  Bob could usually get the head inside before they clamped down. 
Then a few minutes of waiting would let the muscles relax enough he could
start thrusting.

   This time he took it even slower.  He wasn't concerned about being
especially nice.  The idea of being a father figure in public while
secretly using the boy sexually was too good to be true.  Sure, it would be
great if this turned into a steady thing.  For now, all he could count on
was this one afternoon and he wanted to make it last.

   Timmy caught his lower lip between his teeth, not so much trying to keep
quiet, as concentrating on the new sensations.  Bob found the whole thing
too exciting for words and was filling that tight little ass with dick
juice almost before he could get a rhythm going.  Maybe he was reading what
he wanted to see but Timmy seemed disappointed it was over so quick.  Bob
knew better.  This was only the beginning.  While he washed his cock at a
utility sink Timmy sat there hugging himself and staring at the floor.

   "Not quite what you expected was it?"

   "No."

   "Don't worry.  It gets better with practice."

   Timmy picked up his underwear as if planning to get dressed but Bob
plucked them out of his hands and tossed them back on the pile.

   "We're just getting started."

   Bob reached out and grabbing the back of Timmy's head, tipped his face
up until they were eye to eye, practically nose to nose.

   "You already took the biggest step.  You probably don't understand just
how big yet.  Look me in the eye.  You took off your clothes, spread your
legs, and I *fucked* you.  Say it!"

   "You fu...  fuck...  You fucked me."

   "Good, but I want to hear you say it all."

   "I took my clothes off, spread my legs, and you...  You fucked me."

   "It's our secret.  Nobody else knows.  If your neighbors are outside
later, they'll see the same nice boy who's lived next door for years.  Your
mom is going to come home to the same sweet son she had when she left for
work this morning.  h To anyone else, anywhere else, you're the same Timmy
as always.  Even if you're with me, when anyone else is around you're a
normal kid hanging out and doing normal kid stuff.  You understand?"

   "Yes!"

   Curious about what the boy would do next the man let him go.  Timmy
wandered around the room full of kennel supplies, picking things up and
putting them back down.  On a peg near the door were several collars and
leashes in assorted sizes.  Bob sat watching, relaxed but slowly getting
turned on again.  He didn't *think* the kid was trying to be a prick tease.
That's part of what made it so hot.  The red leather collar was intended
for one of the smaller breeds but still fit Timmy's neck without being too
snug.  The light chain attached to it was welded loop and could probably be
used to tow Bob's van in a pinch.  When he saw the way Bob was looking at
him he instinctively tried to cover his crotch, with a double handful of
chromed chain.  Then he noticed his own cock was still a stiff little
spike, and had to face the fact that Bob could see he was horny.  Finally
he walked over and handed Bob the end of the leash.

   "What's this supposed to be"?

   "Like you said, a puppy."

   "I said one sick little puppy.  What am I supposed to do now, walk the
dog?  Should I take you to the dog run out back?  It's right next to the
kennel.  Every dog back there has missed at least two mating sessions. 
Some have missed three or four.  You want me to lead you back and forth in
front of all those horny studs?"

   Timmy didn't say another word, just started blushing darker and darker,
finally staring at the far wall when he could no longer look Bob in the
eye.

   "Wow!  Too bad we can't do that.  We always keep the bitch in here and
bring the stud to her.  If we walked her past the cages some of the dogs
might hurt themselves trying to get at her.  You want me to bring some
horny stud in here and watch him use you like a bitch?"

   Again the boy said nothing but, really, what was there to say?

   "I'm about ready to go again.  Get down on your hands and knees. 
Someday I'll have to let you show me how much you *really* love dogs. 
First I want you to get used to being *my* bitch.  How often do you jack
off?"

   "I...  I never..."

   "Bullshit!  There's no way I'm going to believe you stripped down and
let me cum in your ass without ever having popped a load yourself!"

   "A couple times a week I guess..., sometimes more."

   "How about your friend?  What's his name?  Billy?"

   "What do you mean?"

   "You hang together.  You have sleepovers sometimes.  You ever jack off
together?  Maybe experiment a little?"

   "Oh no!  We just talk...  a lot.  Mostly about girls or stuff he hears
from his creepy uncle.  Sometimes...  forget it."

   "Go on.  What about sometimes?"

   "Well, sometimes I get the idea that his uncle does more than just tell
him stuff.  He's spending the first month of summer vacation there.  When
he comes back he'll have all sorts of stories."

   "Did you ever ask him flat out if he did anything?"

   "Cripes no!  I mean he's the best friend I have but, ask him if he's
doing it with his own uncle?  No way!  Look, I don't make friends easy and
neither does Billy.  We kind of started hanging together because everyone
else thought we were dorks.  He wouldn't tell me if he was doing anything
like that and would think I'm a creep just for asking.  Besides, if his
uncle *did* make him do stuff I'm sure he made him promise not to tell. 
I'm not going to ask him to break a promise that could get him in big
trouble."

   "Maybe you're right.  I have a hunch though that if the right person
asked the right questions in the right way, he'd talk.  He wouldn't tell
everything right away.  There's some things he might not tell anyone, ever.
He's probably a lot like you.  You're not going to tell him the whole,
'secret girlfriend', thing the next time you see him are you?"

   "Are you kidding?!  I might as well just tell him it's been nice having
a friend and go hang myself."

   "How about telling him you lost your cherry?  He'd expect you to brag
about that, wouldn't he?  I bet he'd bug you constantly for all the
details."

   "Yeah, so what?"

   "So, what if you told him it wasn't a girl?  What if you told him some
horny old pervo got you alone somewhere?"

   "I can't tell him about asking you to do it!"

   "No, you can't, not right away.  It would be too much for him,
especially if he really isn't doing anything himself.  So skip the details
until it's easier to explain.  Ask him what he'd think if some pervo got
you alone somewhere private."

   Timmy winced as Bob's finger gently probed his recently fucked pucker.

   "Already a little sore?  This time I'll let you set the pace.  You want
some horny pervert to use you like a girl?  Ok, I can do that.  You want to
pretend that you're really a nice boy and I'm blackmailing you into being
my secret girlfriend?  That just makes it hotter.  But understand this. 
I'm not interested in *nice* girls.  If I'm going to make you be a girl,
you'll be the little slut guys make jokes about."

   Bob felt Timmy shudder as he squeezed out more lube onto his fingers and
began working it into the boys ass hole.  With his free hand he alternately
played with Timmy's nipples and lightly fondled his cock.  Kneeling behind
him he slowly worked his well lubed prick between those tight young cheeks
until the head was snug against the ring of Timmy's anus.  Then he reached
under to wrap his slippery fingers around the boys stiff little prick.

   "Think you can do that, bitch?"

   "Please don't...  It really hurts."

   "I didn't ask if you wanted to.  I asked if you can.

   "Y...yes."

   "Good!  I'll keep you so horny whenever we're together that all you'll
be able to think about is being a cock hungry little slut.  So what are
you? Go on.  Say it!"

   "A...  a cock hungry little slut."

   "And what do perverts do to cock hungry little sluts?"

   "Fu...  fuck them?"

   "That's right.  You can decide at any time that you want to quit, go
back to acting like a normal kid.  Until then you either play my way, all
the way, or we don't play at all.  Can my hot little slut take another load
of pervert spunk in her ass?"

   "Yyyes"

   "Then do it!  I'm going to hold my hand still and let you fuck my fist.
Of course the only way you can pull back to take a stroke is by shoving
your ass hole onto my cock."

   He squirmed, wiggled, and whimpered for a while but finally managed get
his butt onto Bob's cock.

   "I'm going to let you set the pace.  The harder you do it the better
your cock will feel.  And the better my cock will feel.  And the more your
ass will hurt.  If I cum first I'll let you keep on fucking my fist until
you pop your load too."

   Timmy finished first but not by much.  A few more quick thrusts and Bob
gave the boy his second load of dick juice.

   "Holy shit kid!  I need a breather after that!  Don't bother getting
dressed.  We've got plenty of time and I'm sure I'll be able to get it up
again before I have to take you home."

   "Nooo!  Please...  I really can't...  Not again!!"

   "Let's get something straight *girlfriend*.  There's do and don't. 
There's will and won't.  There is no can't, not for you, not when you're
with me.  If you're done being my girl already you can clean up and get
dressed.  I'll haul you back to the park and you can try to forget you ever
met me.  Is that what you want?  Well, is it?"

   "No." It was hardly more than a whisper.

   "You want the little girl fantasy of some hot guy forcing you to do
exactly what you really want to do anyway.  OK, I can get into that.  What
you have to understand is that everything worth having has a price.  Any
guy who can make you do what you want can make you do stuff you don't want.
If you keep coming back for more I'll end up making you do stuff you can't
even imagine right now.  That's part of the price you'll have to pay for
getting what you want."

   "What else?"

   "What do you mean?"

   "You said that was part of the price.  What about the rest of it?"

   "That's hard to predict and even harder to explain.  You're
experimenting right now.  You heard that Debbie kid talk about what
happened to her and a kinky idea started rattling around in your head.  You
scratched that itch.  Maybe it's done and won't come back.  Maybe next week
you'll be dreaming about eating your first pussy.

   "Sometimes scratching an itch only helps for a little while.  Instead of
going away it comes back stronger.  If you act out a fantasy you might find
that the real deal is even more exciting than your imagination.  More often
the reality isn't that good.  The original fantasy loses it's shine, but
six new ones take its place.  I figure there's maybe one chance in three
that I'll ever see you again after we're done today.  It's even money that
if I do you'll be a witness for the prosecution.  I can live with those
odds but I'm going to do everything I can to tip things more in my favor."

   "Like what?"

   "Come over here where I can wash that lube off your dick.  I'm sure it's
non-toxic but if it was made for shoving rectal thermometers into dogs I'd
bet nobody thought about the taste."

   "Taste?"

   "Uh Huh, and while I'm cleaning you up you can return the favor."

   Bob loved the boys shy uncertainty as he used the cleanup to introduce
him to the joys of mutual masturbation.  Timmy balked at kissing, until Bob
convinced him there was more to being a girl than spreading his legs.  He
was surprised to find that opening his mouth was just as sexy as dropping
his pants.  Done right, a deep kiss was a wordless promise to deliver
anything else the man wanted from him.  Then again, it wasn't exactly
difficult to let the older man wrap his lips around his stiff young dick.
Minutes later he had his second orgasm from his third sex act and lost
interest in counting.  Especially when Bob used the next kiss to share a
mouth full of cum.  He'd wondered what a perverts cum would taste like.  It
still surprised him.  Even after listening to Debbie it hadn't occurred to
him to taste his own.

   After they got dressed Bob spent a couple hours showing him around the
property and talking dogs and sports.  The kid needed time to get used to
being nice little Timmy before he went home.  They were in the van before
Bob set the final hook.

   "Like I said the choice is yours.  If you want a place to hang out, and
other stuff, I'm there.  While you're thinking it over I want you to do me
one favor.  I don't want to rush you, but I want you to decide sometime
soon.  So, I'm asking you not to jack off until you've decided one way or
the other about being my, 'alternate girlfriend'.  If you get so horny you
can't keep your hands off of it but still haven't made up your mind, give
me a call.  I might extend the deadline by one cum shot if you ask real
nice."

   Since he honestly didn't expect to hear from the kid again he was a
little surprised though not too worried when he got a call from Timmy's mom
one morning almost a week later.

   "Is this Bob...?"

   "Parker.  Bob Parker ma'am.  What can I do for you?"

   "This is Mary Anderson, Timmy's mom.  Timmy tells me you would like for
him to help out at the kennel, sort of a summer job?"

   "Well, not really anything that formal.  I'm care taking at the Shady
Lane kennel and can't afford to hire a kid to do my own job.  Timmy asked
if he could hang around and help out.  He really loves animals.  I told him
he'd have to clear it with his folks, so you'd know where he was at and
what he was up to."

   "Oh.  So it's just a voluntary thing?  Not a paying job?"

   "That's right.  Actually, the bigger attraction is the river that
borders the back of the property.  If he lends a hand with the kennel
chores we'll probably spend most of our time fishing."

   "Well, I guess that's OK.  I'd be happier if he found a way to earn some
money.  He's getting old enough that the allowance I can afford doesn't go
very far.  Still, I'd rather have him volunteering to do something useful
than sitting around thinking up ways to get in trouble.  I have to leave
for work in an hour, could you pick him up before then?"

   "Sure, no problem."

   Bob had to park down the street for a few minutes to let it get right
down to the wire.  He figured it was better if she didn't have time to ask
a lot to questions.  Five minutes after he pulled up Timmy was standing
next to him watching Mary's car disappear around the first corner.

   "I almost shit when mom told me what you said.  If she knew what you
meant about, 'really loving animals', I'd be grounded until I'm old enough
to vote."

   "Uh huh.  Before this goes any further we need to talk.  Lets go
inside."

   They got as far as the kitchen before Bob stopped him.

   "You really did it, set it up with your mom so you could be alone with
me.  We both know what's going to happen now.  I'm going to use you like a
girl.  I've had a hardon since your mom called and from that tent in your
shorts you have too.  Get your clothes off.  You're her only kid so I'm
sure she has a picture of you on her desk.  I want to be balls deep in your
tight little ass before she gets there and sits down in front of your
picture."

   While Timmy stripped completely bare Bob rummaged through the cupboards
and found a can of vegetable grease.  The boy bent over, resting his chest
on the kitchen table while reaching back with both hands to spread his butt
cheeks exposing his pretty pink pucker.  He made a few gasps and moans but
didn't try to pull away as Bob greased him up and gently stretched his ass
until it was ready to take a cock.

   "So boy, are you ready?"

   "I...  I've been ready for two days!"

   He tried to go slow but the way Timmy was spreading his butt and rising
up on his toes to meet Bobs thrusts soon had him so turned on he was
pounding away.

   "That's it!  Stick your cock in me!  Make me be your girlfriend!  I get
so hot when you make me ask for it.  I'll be a girl any time you want me."

   When Bob watched him let go of one ass cheek so he could jerk off while
being fucked it was enough to push him over the edge.  He'd barely finished
cumming when he felt the boys ass hole flutter and clench as the kid popped
his own load.  Bob spotted a roll of paper towels near the sink.  He'd
wiped his dick, zipped his fly, and was wiping Timmy's freshly fucked butt
when he noticed Mary.  She was standing in the front hall wearing an
expression of horrified disbelief.

   "Timmy, I think you'd better grab your clothes and dress in your room.
It looks like your mom and I have some things to discuss."

   "Oh shit!"

   "Yeah."

   As the boy took off she moved hesitantly into the kitchen.  Grabbing the
purse she had left sitting on the counter she turned to go, then stopped
and dialed the phone.

   "Hello?  This is Mary.  Let me speak to Ellen.  You'll have to get one
of the other girls to cover for me.  I know this is zero notice but family
problems are that way.  I'll try to make it in a little later but no
promises."

   She moved past him and started loading the coffee maker.

   "Would you like coffee?  Under the circumstances that sounds trivial but
I don't know what else to say.  I guess a cigarette is more traditional but
I don't smoke.  Asking this seems completely surreal but what I just saw
was so far out of my normal frame of reference I have to confirm it.  Were
you actually having homosexual intercourse with my son?"

   "Yes."

   "Was he in fact making comments that would lead an unbiased observer to
believe he was an active participant?"

   "There was some...  enthusiasm on his part.  Yes."

   "He...  He isn't even a teenager, not for two more months...  I heard
him offering to, 'be a girl', and requesting that you, 'make him be your
girlfriend'.  Is there some specific act...?"

   "I don't know if there is a polite way to describe it.  He wasn't making
love.  The way he uses those terms implies a certain amount of reluctance
on his part."

   "It didn't appear that he was being forced or coerced in any normal
sense."

   "As I understand it, he's presently fascinated by the idea of being used
sexually *as if* he were both female and withholding his consent."

   "Mr.  Parker, I'm familiar with the concept of sexual role play. 
Between consenting adults I find it harmless and occasionally amusing. 
What I'm finding difficult to accept is that my son, a twelve year old
hild, finds it gratifying to play the role of a similarly aged girl being
sexually abused.  If I had not personally witnessed the event I would flat
out refuse to believe it.  He was so deeply engaged in the role that he
actively requested to be used in a manner the average boy his age would
find physically painful and utterly humiliating."

   "Perhaps it would be easier if you didn't think of him as a child.  Time
doesn't stand still.  Boys grow up."

   "Yes, to every time there is a season.  I've done my homework, reading
the books and articles so I could try to help him cope.  It's an area where
a mother really can't help that much.  I was expecting a certain amount of
experimentation and gender identity issues.  But I was thinking more in
terms of mutual masturbation with a friend during a sleep over.  Walking in
on him this morning makes my pre-planned, 'talk', seem hopelessly naive."

   "I think you underestimate your influence.  At this point you're the
source of almost everything he knows about women.  You're also trying to
fill in for a missing father who would otherwise be providing answers to
questions about, 'guy stuff'.  You were probably going to start by
apologizing for inadvertently violating his privacy.  From there you'd say
something along the lines of it being normal to experiment.  Next you'd
caution him about being discrete and avoiding physically risky behavior. 
Maybe you'd even give him a few tips on choosing appropriate partners."

   Her eyes widened like he'd dealt her five aces.

   "Ma'am, it's a fairly standard speech.  While you didn't expect to apply
it to a situation this extreme it's still appropriate.  I certainly
wouldn't describe it as 'naive'."

   "Maybe not, but while I was willing to accept a certain amount of
experimentation as normal I certainly wasn't thinking in terms of an adult
partner."

   "I'm beginning to see.  Are you under the impression I seduced him, or
had something to do with his choice of role play fantasy?"

   "I'd find it hard not to believe that."

   "Nothing I could say would be convincing.  If the offer is still open
I'll accept that cup of coffee while you and Timmy discuss the issue."

   In less than fifteen minutes she was back at the kitchen table.  "While
I have to admit I still don't understand it I guess I owe you an apology."

   "Thank you.  Now the question is where do we go from here.  If I'm
waiting for a cop to tap me on the shoulder I'd prefer to get it over
with."

   "Timmy was equally emphatic that he would refuse to testify against you.
In fact he insisted he would perjure himself in your defense if I tried to
press the case without his consent.  This whole situation is still very
difficult for me to accept.  Will you give me honest answers to some rather
personal questions?  I can give you the same promise of discretion Timmy
was willing to accept."

   "Within limits I'll do my best."

   "If Timmy expressed a desire to continue this unusual role play would
you do so?  Can I count on your discretion?"

   "Ma'am the fact that we're having this conversation opens some doubts
about how much my discretion is worth.  If what we've been doing becomes
common knowledge I'm in much deeper trouble than your son."

   She raised her voice.  "Timmy!  Would you come in here please?"

   Bob expected him to be tense and flustered but if anything the opposite
was the case.  The boy seemed to have decided that he couldn't get any more
busted and wasn't going to take crap from anybody.

   "I've been forced to accept that my son has discovered an appetite for
certain unusual forms of sexual role play.  This is terribly embarrassing
but I need to avoid any misunderstanding.  My sons preferred role at this
time is that of a young boy being forced to take the place of a female who
is either unavailable or unwilling.  I won't even pretend to understand
what's going on between his ears.  His physical participation includes
submitting to and at times even requesting various forms of homosexual
intercourse.

   "I can't and don't approve of what he is doing.  I've agreed not to
intervene if he will keep his experimentation within certain guidelines. 
First is privacy.  At this house that means his bedroom or the game room in
the basement.  That includes shades drawn and doors locked.  Anywhere else
you will either achieve a similar degree of privacy or abstain. 
Specifically I don't *ever* want to walk in on you in my kitchen again.

   "Second is a concern for his health.  You're already straining the
definition of consensual.  Timmy is so much smaller than you physically
that almost anything you do together could be considered, 'rough sex'.  I'm
serious about this Timmy.  If you begin to feel things are getting out of
hand I need to know.  Otherwise I'd prefer a decent level of ignorance. 
Can you both abide by those conditions?"

   "I don't see why not.  We were already doing the first part.  How about
it Timmy?  Can you talk to your mom if things start to go sour?"

   "I guess so.  Keeping a secret this big isn't easy.  To be honest it's
kind of a relief to get caught."

   "All right then.  I have to get to work and I assume you need to get
back to the kennel.  I expect Timmy to be home by five thirty at the
latest. Now if you'll excuse me."

   Mary got up and left, carefully taking her purse with her this time. 
Timmy and Bob didn't quite follow her out the door but were soon in his van
heading for the kennel.

   "Kid I hope you have some idea of just how lucky you are.  Your mom
impressed the hell out of me.  She walked in on a situation that pretty
much turned her whole world upside down and somehow managed to land on her
feet.  There are generals leading armies that can't do that."

   "I guess she's all right.  Sometimes she tries so hard to run everything
it drives me nuts.  Like just now.  Any other kids mom would have pitched a
howling fit.  I'm sort of glad she didn't.  I don't need to be yelled at
and you don't need to be arrested.  But I sure don't need my own mother
telling me where and how some pervert can do it to me.  You know what that
makes me want to do?  I want to find some alley full of grubby creeps, and
let one of them fuck me, right out in the open, while the rest of them
watch.

   "The worst part about it is that she's right.  The same advice from
anyone else would just be common sense.  It wouldn't bother me at all. 
Sometimes I wonder how much she knows about how I feel."

   "What do you mean?"

   "How often does she tell me she wants something just to make sure I
don't do it?  Like telling me she doesn't want to know what we do together
unless things start going too far.  Did she really mean that, or does she
want me to tell her everything as long as I finish each story with, 'I can
do that if he wants me to but I don't think I can go any farther'?"

   "Sort of a wheels within wheels thing?  Like maybe the reason she didn't
go totally ballistic is that she's secretly glad you weren't messing around
with somebody else's kid?"

   "Maybe, and maybe something else too.  I don't think she likes men very
much.  Dad and her used to have awful fights.  When he died everyone talked
about how well she handled it.  Since then she hasn't had a boyfriend.  She
parties sometimes with women she knows but never guys.  We get in stupid
fights.  Like one minute she wants me to stay a kid forever and the next
minute she wants me to be old enough I can move out."

   "I'm beginning to see what you mean.  She can't keep you from growing up
but can't stand the idea of having a man in the house.  She doesn't want
you to have sex with anyone, not even jerking yourself off.  Walking in on
us was a shock, but it should have been worse.  She'd prepared herself for
the idea that you'd want to have a girlfriend, then caught you in the
middle of being a girlfriend.  If I'd been fucking her twelve year old
daughter she'd have been on the phone to the cops before I dried off my
dick.  With you, she still had to get her disapproval on the record but
since no actual women were being abused there wasn't the same sense of
urgency about it.  This is just a feeling but I think that if you started
asking, 'how to be a girl', type questions she might start talking to you
as a friend instead of as a kid or a threat."

   "That would sure be different."

   With the two of them working it didn't take long to get the dogs fed and
the kennel clean.  After getting caught that morning neither one of them
wanted to be the first to suggest another round.  So they grabbed a fishing
pole, packed some lunch, and went for the river at the back of the
property. The road followed the other side and there was no bridge nearby
so this bank didn't even have the usual foot path.  They spent the
afternoon talking cars and sports, the usual guy stuff.  After a while talk
sort of died out and Timmy noticed Bob looking at him sort of funny.

   "What are you looking at?

   "Your face."

   "Why?  Is there mustard on my chin?"

   "Nope.  I was an artist for a while.  Nothing serious but I enjoyed it
and even sold a few paintings.  I doubt that I could ever have made a
living at it.  The hard part wasn't the painting.  It was learning how to
look at things.  To make people see what you want them to see in a painting
you first have to be able to see it yourself."

   "So?"

   "So, I was thinking that you have one of those faces that can go either
way.  If I took a picture of you, a close up showing mostly your face, and
showed it to a bunch of people they'd say, 'What a cute boy'."

   "Yeesh!"

   "It gets better.  If I painted a picture of you, I could make a couple
tiny changes and people would ask how I got such a pretty girl to pose for
me.  More than half of them wouldn't get the joke it you were standing next
to me when they asked the question!"

   "You're kidding right?"

   "Nope.  In fact it's given me another idea..."

   They kicked the idea around for a few days.  Finally, Timmy agreed to
talk to his mom about it.  He was sitting at the kitchen table listening to
her chatter about nothing much while she was fixing supper.  It took him a
few tries to work up the nerve.  Picking a time when her back was towards
him while she stirred something on the stove he asked the question Bob had
coached him on.

   "Mom?  How hard is it to take off lipstick?"

   She didn't drop her spoon or whatever on the floor but he heard it
rattle in the pot.  In a voice so controlled it could have come from a
robot she said, "So now he wants you to wear makeup."

   "Not *makeup*, on a boy my age that would look as silly as a circus
clown pretending to be a hooker.  He doesn't even want me to load up like a
preteen girl trying to look older.  He was thinking something like a twelve
year old tomboy deciding it wouldn't be all bad if somebody noticed she was
a girl.  It has to be light enough I can wipe it off in a hurry and most
people wouldn't notice if I didn't.  It also has to be simple enough I can
do it myself.  He doesn't want me wearing it on the street, just when we're
hanging out."

   "What exactly did he have in mind?"

   "Something that will make my mouth look fuller, pouty.  Like lipstick,
no more than a couple shades from my natural color.  That was the main
thing.  Maybe something to make my eyelashes more noticeable.  Not big
globs of mascara, just something to darken them a little."

   There was a long pause while she thought.

   "I guess that isn't unreasonable, but why did you bother to ask?"

   "You wanted to know about any changes.  Also, we were kind of hoping you
could show me how.  Uh, he gave me money but I don't know what to buy."

   "We're close enough to the same skin shade some of mine should work for
now.  Later you can buy your own or I can pick up extra for you when I buy
mine."

   Things were kind of quiet while they ate.  A couple times she looked
like she was going to ask something then decided to let it wait.  When they
finished she sat him down at her dressing table so he could see in the
mirror what she was doing while she pulled up a chair next to him facing
the other way.

   "Are you sure you want to do this?"

   "No, but Bob wants it and the worst that can happen is that I'll feel a
little silly.  How do I do this?"

   She didn't use a lot of makeup herself but had several shades of
lipstick.  After holding several up in front of his mouth she chose one and
a small brush.

   "You know how all the toothpaste commercials show a huge fat worm of
whatever they're selling on the bristles of the brush?  You know that
nobody actually uses that much to brush their teeth?"

   "Yeah."

   "Lipstick is the same way.  You can smear it on directly from the tube,
then blot most of it back off.  That's sort of like painting with a putty
knife.  It will do the job, sort of, but it doesn't work very well and
wastes a lot of paint.  What works best for me is to use a small brush to
pick it up from the end of the stick then paint it on.  That way you don't
use more than you need and you have a lot better control of where it goes.

   "The tricky part is getting it only where you want it.  It's not like a
coloring book where you can stay inside the lines.  Your lips gradually
shade from their full color to the surrounding skin.  If you want them to
look, 'fuller', or, 'pouty', you have to extend the normal shade past its
normal outline.  If you go too far you'll look like one of those kids that
doesn't need a seatbelt in the car.  I'll be able to wet your lips and
stick you to the window next to that suction cup Garfield."

   "Oh mom!"

   "I'll do it this time and you can practice later alone.  It's actually
easier without somebody looking over your shoulder.  You can steady your
fingers by resting the edge of your hand against your cheek or chin,
whatever works best for you.  One thing Bob was right about is not to over
do it.

   "Technically if it goes on your eyelashes it's mascara.  There are
different types and colors.  It's another place where less is more.  You
want to use the smallest amount to get the effect you're after.  If you get
too much on and make the mistake of rubbing your eyes it will tend to
spread until you look like a raccoon.  If you start to cry it will streak
down the side of your face like that clown you talked about.  The hardest
part is holding your eyelid still while you brush the lashes from base to
tip."

   They weren't doing much and after only a few minutes she put the brush
down.  He was shocked by the reflection in the mirror.

   "Oh...  My...  God..., I really *do* look like a girl!"

   "Not really hon, not unless somebody is looking closely at just your
face.  A hundred people could walk past you on the street and not notice
anything strange.  Besides, well, wasn't that the whole idea?"

   "I guess.  Sort of.  Bob said he could paint a picture of me with only a
couple of changes and everybody would think a girl posed for it.  I didn't
argue about it but I guess I didn't really believe him.  Anyway, that's not
the same as looking in a mirror and having a girl look back.  I don't know
if I can do this."

   "OK, now you have me confused.  You can do...  what I walked in on, but
you can't wear lipstick?"

   "It's not like that.  Well...  It is...  But not like *THAT*.  That day
we were both in a hurry and got a little crazy.  It's not rape, rape, rape,
until he can't get hard again every time I'm alone with him.  We don't do
it every day.  Mostly we take care of the dogs.  We spend a lot of time
fishing or playing catch.  Sometimes we take one of the dogs and a Frisbee
so the dog can play too.  We also talk a lot.  You know, cars, sports, guy
stuff."

   "I'm glad to hear he isn't just, uh, using you, but why the lipstick?"

   "When he wants to do that stuff he will get close, put an arm around me,
and tell me it's 'girlfriend time'.  I can usually guess before he actually
says anything.  We still spend a lot more time talking about it than doing
things.  Mom?  This is kind of creepy and sort of embarrassing but...  he
says he gets his biggest kick out of watching my face."

   "Your face?"

   "Uh huh.  He says it's so open it's like the exact opposite of a poker
face.  He could do it to me in front of a movie camera, never show anything
below my shoulders, and half the people who see the film would cum in their
pants, just from watching my face."

   "He hasn't actually done that has he?"

   "Oh no!  No films, no pictures, nothing that might cause problems later.
But that's why the lipstick is such a big deal.  Now when it's, 'girlfriend
time', he can make me look like one too."

   "I think I see.  Maybe I should have asked more questions before I
showed you how.  Then again, lipstick isn't exactly rocket science.  If you
know what you're trying to do, finding out how to do it isn't too hard."

   "Are you mad at me?"

   "No, not really.  It's...  I think the word you used was creepy?  Not
just what he does to you, that's creepy too, but the thought of me helping
you become more.., attractive?.., desirable?  I'm going to ask you to do me
a favor.

   "This is Friday.  I have to go in to clean up a few loose ends at the
office tomorrow morning.  If you want to hang out with Bob then it's Ok.  I
want you around here for the rest of the weekend.  You can spend some time
practicing how to apply makeup but I would prefer you didn't wear it for
Bob until Monday.  If you're not comfortable with the idea then, either let
it wait a while or don't do it."

   "OK."
   End of Part 1 
