Best Birthdays Ever

My Best Birthdays Ever

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CHAPTER 13 Patrick's Nightmare -- Patrick's Dream Bb, Mb, incest, ws, mild scat, non, cons. anal, oral, enema, medical procedures

FROM CHAPTER 12

"Answer me honestly. Did you trick these boys into taking anything? Trent's eyes look like he's on speed."

Patrick gasped. "I swear, sir. I would never. I know I was mean to Trent before, but I really love him. I wouldn't do nothing no more that could hurt him, sir. I swear."

Papa Mark looked closely at Chrissy's and Trent's eyes.

"I'm not judging anybody, guys, but I know how much Trent loves to drink pee. Did you guys drink Patrick's pee tonight?"

That was it! Drinking his pee gave us some of the drugs he'd been forced to take. It was the reason we all felt so horny, well, besides just being horny boys. And the reason we all had boners that wouldn't go down. We got a dose of everything Patrick had been made to take when we drank his pee. Weird, no?

But that wasn't what was important.

"You gotta look at Patrick's butt. Please, Papa Mark. He got hurt real bad." I was crying by then.

Patrick tried to refuse, but when he wants something, Papa Mark gets it. He took a close look at my lover's legs and then at his rear end. He pulled out his iPhone and took a bunch of picture. Then he switched to video and asked Patrick to tell us what happened.

Patrick started crying. Quietly he spoke . . .

NOW ON TO CHAPTER 13

NOTE TO THE READER: What follows is a fairly detailed description of the brutal treat Patrick had been receiving. If this bothers you, skip down to the part immediately after the **********************

"They been rough fucking me for three days. Ten of them. Plus the asshole. They take these yellow pills that make them hard. And ecstasy. And crank. And coke. Keeps `em hard and horny and fucking mean.

"I've gone through this before. Gang fucks like this. Probably for five years or more. It gets mean and dirty most of the time. You'll never want to kiss me again, Trent, when I tell you that like forever I been doing this they make me drink their piss and eat their . . . Fuck. I can't tell you.

"This time weren't much different only I never had to service ten men. That was new. And they seemed meaner, nastier, dirtier than ever. It scared me. I haven't been scared like that for like three years. Something told me this time would be different. And it was.

"Last night late they all went to bed after chaining me up to the ceiling like always. They do this stuff in this basement room the asshole has set up just for this shit. They sleep in another room next to where they do stuff. I could hear them laughing in that room. I couldn't hear most of what they were saying, but I heard some stuff that really scared me. Like body' and after we eat all we want' and `the banquet Sunday night.' I knew they were talking about me. I think they wanted me to hear it. I knew they were going to kill me and . . . Least that's what it fucking sounded like.

"I couldn't sleep last night. Sometimes when they have me chained up I can get a little sleep. Not this time. I was too scared. They came in the sex room -- that's what the asshole calls it -- after having breakfast. I could hear them talking about how good the food tasted and all. When they were in the room, they took more of the pills and snorted that shit. And they gave that shit to me, too. Lots of it. My head felt like it would explode. They chained me to this table thing with my butthole showing. Then they had a contest. They set a timer for one minute. Each man dry fucked me for that minute . . . then the next one . . . and the next one . . . and the next one. Just the ten `guests. That's what the asshole calls the men who pay for me. This was their special game.

"You can imagine how long it went on. You fuck a minute then have to wait nine minutes. It went on forever. The last man to cum in me won. I didn't know what he was gonna win as it went on, but when the last guy splooged in me, then I found out. The asshole unchained me and dragged me to this sling thing dangling from the ceiling. He strapped me in there with my legs tied up over my head so my bloody, leaking butthole was on display.

"Then the asshole explained it to me. `You ain't no virgin, no more. You're a big fucking slut. You've taken more cock up your ass in your 13 years than a street whore takes in her pussy her whole life. So I can't sell your ass as virgin meat any more. But there is something you never had done so this little get together was to sell that virgin part of you.'

"The man who'd won the contest stepped up to us. He had this huge can of this white cooking stuff called Crisco. He was rubbing it all over his hand and arm. The asshole didn't need to tell me what was gonna happen. I'd heard of fist fucking, and I figured it's gonna happen to me sooner or later. Now that it was gonna happen, I fucking pissed myself I was so scared. And farted and messed myself, too. But only a little. They all laughed at me."

I couldn't believe what Patrick was telling me. I'd never heard the words `fist fucking' before. I kind of figured it out but still could wrap my mind around it.

"Papa Mark," I ask, my voice choking, "is fist fucking what I think it is?"

"Never mind, honey. Let's listen to Patrick."

"No!" I yelled. "You gotta tell me. I want to know what's happened to him. Even if it's bad. I gotta know."

"Yes, honey, it's what it sounds like. A man pushes his hand and arm in another man's rectum. It can be fun for both men, but Patrick's way too young. Patrick, let me see your rectum."

"Rectum, sir?" Patrick said. "You mean my asshole? I'm sorry. I mean butthole?"

"Yes, Patrick. I assume they went through with it and I need to see the damage."

[NOTE TO READERS: What follows is not as detailed. I've marked the more detailed parts with WARNING.]

Patrick took a deep breath and started to unbutton his jeans. Tears filled his eyes.

"This is hard, sir. It's weird. I been stripping in front of men since before I started school. But I'm kinda embarrassed doing it in front of Trent's Papa."

Papa Mark just nodded his head. That seemed to give Patrick courage to go on. He pulled his pants and stained underpants to his knees and bent over. Without being told, he pulled his cheeks apart. Papa Mark knelt down and looked closely but didn't touch him. After about ten or fifteen seconds, he started taking pictures with his iPhone. In a short time, I heard Daddy's voice. Papa Mark had the phone on speaker.

"What's up Mark? Is everything all right?"

"Hey, darling, Trent's fine, but we've got a situation here. Patrick came over about an hour ago. The guys played around together and then Trent came up and told me I had to look at Patrick. He was pretty upset. Patrick explained to me some things I'll tell you about when we're together. I'm sending you some pictures. How soon can you get home?

Daddy was quiet for a couple of minutes. I guess he was looking at the pictures.

"Thanks, Mark. I was almost ready to leave. I just have a couple of charts to finish up before I leave. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Do we need to call the police?"

Patrick gasped at the word `police.'

"Please. No police. Please no."

Papa Mark said to both Daddy and Patrick, "Let's talk about that later. We'll see you soon, Darling. And bring the endoscope."

"I figured as much, Love. I'll be there as soon as I can. Until do what you can."

"One more thing, Jimmy. Patrick was forced to take some drugs. And the other kids got some from drinking his urine, so don't freak out when you see them like I did."

"Thanks for letting me know. See you all soon."

After finishing the call, Papa Mark told me to get some towels, a clean sheet, the emergency drape pack, and his medical kit. Jamie and Chrissy came with me. When we came back, Papa Mark spread out the blanket on the bed and then undid the emergency drape and spread it over the sheet. He then gently pulled Patrick's shirt off and carefully undressed him. Chrissy, Jamie, and I all gasped when we saw Patrick's body. There were bright red stripes and little red marks all over his back and legs.

"Lie down, son," Papa Mark said. "Let me know what happened. Trent, take your friends upstairs."

"NO!" I yelled. "I love Patrick. I want to be here."

"You shouldn't hear what I'm sure he's going to say, but you guys can stay. If it gets too hard to hear, head upstairs."

Papa Mark started a thorough examination of my lover -- of course after thoroughly washing his hands -- as Patrick picked up his story.

"Well, the men all laughed when I messed myself. Called me names. The guy who'd won laughed the hardest. He told me that a little shit wasn't gonna stop his fun. `Scuse me for the bad word."

"Don't worry about it," Papa Mark said. "Just tell the story."

WARNING Patrick continued, "Then he took his hand and made it kind of pointed like, all his fingers together and showed it to me. It had a thick coat of Crisco all over it. `I'm going to fucking love breaking that shitty asshole of yours,' he said. Then he took a towel and wiped most of the Crisco off. Next thing I know he's pushing that hand in my asshole. Man, it so fucking hurt. I could hear someone screaming in the background. I didn't know who it was. I been fucked a lot in my life. A lot. And by some big cocks and dildos. But I never felt anything like this.

WARNING "I could feel my asshole stretching open wide as he pushed more of his hand in me. The screaming kept going. Then I felt my asshole got a little smaller. I figured it had closed around his wrist. It didn't feel as bad then. The screaming stopped. I kept wondering who'd been screaming.

WARNING "Then he told all the guys his hand was in. Now I'm gonna fist the shit outta him,' he laughed. I could feel his hand moving inside me and it got big feeling. I guess he made a fist. The screaming started again. At that point I realized it was me screaming. He started pounding his fist right inside me, mashing my sexy boy place. It fucking killed. Then he began pushing into me. He grabbed my nuts and squeezed them and made me look. My asshole father lifted my head up so I could see. I couldn't believe what I saw. The man had his lower arm half up inside me. He kept pushing. He looked at my asshole father and asked, Can I go all the way to my shoulder?' Asshole said it didn't matter. I wasn't going to be any use to him after the weekend."

Right at that point, Daddy came down the stairs. I jumped up and ran to him, throwing my arms around his waist.

"Please make sure he's okay, Daddy," I bawled. "Please."

Daddy rubbed my head like he does when he knows I'm upset.

"We'll do everything we can, Sweety. Patrick, I'm Trent's father, Dr. Monroe. But I'd like you to call me Jimmy. Okay? Go on with your story."

WARNING "I couldn't believe what I was seeing between my legs. His arm kept going in more and more. I felt like I had the world's biggest turd inside me. It's weird but even though it hella hurt, it kinda felt good, too.

WARNING "But fuck. He did make it all the way to his shoulder. I barfed like three times. I don't know how long it went on. Seemed like hours but probably wasn't. But while it was happening I could feel men cumming on me. Finally the guy fisting me moved me around with his arm inside me a spooged on my face."

All the time Patrick was talking, Papa Mark and Daddy were examining him and putting medicine stuff on the stripes and round red spots. They had him roll onto his tummy and then had him pull his knees up under him. His poor poohole looked so bad all dangling out like it was. I couldn't imagine it would ever be okay again. Not too long ago, before I'd seen what had been done to him, I wanted to fuck his hole so bad. Now all I wanted to do was kiss it better.

After catching his breath, Patrick went on.

"He pulled out pretty fast. That really hurt. They were taking pictures and videos the whole time. When he was all the way out, he had me lick him clean. It was pretty nasty. One of the guys showed me a picture of my asshole. It was wide open. You could see the inside easy. It was all red. And a bunch of it was outside. Like it is now.

"My asshole father was laughing like a fucking crazy guy. Kept saying something like `The little fucker has a rosebud. The little fucker has a rosebud.' I don't know what he meant. What's that mean, Dr. Monroe?"

Patrick was crying now. Hard. My daddy stopped examining him and pulled him into a hug.

"A rosebud is when your rectum comes out of your anus like yours is. It's not necessarily bad, but I'm going to have to check you out inside."

"Inside?" Patrick sounded scared. "You're not going to stick you hand in there too? Please no."

Now it was Papa Mark's turn to hug Patrick.

"We're not going to do that, honey," he said. "We're going to put a tiny camera inside you. It'll hurt a little going in, but it won't hurt once it goes in. And we'll numb your poophole first."

Daddy touched Papa Mark's shoulder. "I know we normally do some numbing, Mark," he said, "but I'm not going to now. Sorry, Patrick. First off, I need to assess if there's any serious nerve damage. If he doesn't feel the endoscope going in, we may have a problem. Secondly, with the drugs he's been forced to take, I don't want to chance any drug interactions.

"Patrick, we usually do an enema to clean the patient out. Do you know what an enema is?"

"Yes, sir. Sometimes I have to take one if the customer wants me clean inside. Some guys don't like getting shit on their cocks. Some like getting their cocks real dirty and have me clean it after with my mouth."

Patrick gasped, realizing what he'd just said. "Sorry sir. Didn't mean to use those words."

"That's okay, son," Daddy said. "We're not going to worry about that sort of thing now. Do you think you're up an enema right now?"

Patrick nodded his head.

Daddy handed Papa Mark a small suitcase.

"Mark, could you hook this up to the TV. I'll do the colonoscopy while you watch the screen and report to me what you see. When you're all set up, could you explain what's going to happen and give our brave patient an enema?"

While Papa Mark was setting things up, Daddy was looking closely at Patrick's rear end. I could hear my boyfriend crying quietly.

"I'm so embarrassed, Dr. Monroe. I've had tons of guys look at my asshole so it shouldn't matter. But . . . I don't know. It's so embarrassing like this."

Still probing and looking, Daddy said, "Don't be embarrassed, Patrick. I've examined lots of `assholes' in my career. All you should concentrate on is feeling better. And it's Jimmy, remember? You ready, Mark?"

Papa Mark switched places with Daddy. He held this nasty looking black tubey thing and went over to where Patrick had his head down on the mattress. He showed Patrick the thing.

"This is a endoscope, Patrick. This end has a small camera. We're going to put it inside your rectum. It might hurt some, but it won't be too long, about 10 minutes or so."

Papa Mark helped Patrick stand and started toward the bathroom.

"This is weird, but can Trent and the guys come in with me? I'm kinda scared."

Papa Mark had Patrick get into the tub rather than sit on the toilet.

"If I was using a regular enema tube, I'd have you sit on the toilet," Papa Mark explained, holding up the longest enema tube I'd ever seen -- not that I'd seen that many. It was like two feet long. "But I have to get this tube all the way inside you, so it'll be easier for both of us if you get in the tub."

"Once the liquid is inside you, I want you to try to hold it for five minutes. If you can't, don't worry. And we don't want you doing a lot of fast moving in case something got hurt inside you. So when you have to go, just let it out in the tub. I'm going to have to do this three times, too. Trust me, I've seen this before and so have your friends. Right, Sweety?"

I guess Papa Mark knew about our earlier messy play. I nodded and helped Patrick climb into our large tub where Jamie, Chrissy, and I had bathed not long before. He got into the same puppy position he'd been in on the mattress without being told.

Papa Mark greased the whole length of the tube. He squirted something in the enema bag and filled it completely full. There was a ton of water in it.

"What was that stuff you put in?" I asked. "And he doesn't have to take all that does he?"

"Castile soap. And I hope he'll be able to take as much of it as he can."

"I gotta tell you guys something," Patrick giggled. "I really, really like enemas. A lot. And I can take even more than that. One time they put two bags in me and butt plugged me. I looked like a pregnant little boy."

I could see that Patrick must have liked enemas. His dick was really hard. Papa Mark carefully maneuvered the tip of the long tube inside the red tube of flesh sticking out Patrick's poohole. Then he unclamped the hose and kept pushing more of the tube inside. Patrick moaned and took a deep breath. Finally Papa Mark had all the tube in. You could actually hear the water gurgling inside Patrick's tummy. And yeah, his tummy was swelling up.

Patrick grunted and squeaked, "Sorry guys!" His boner started jerk around and a few clear drops squirted out. "Couldn't help it," he panted. "Told you I loved this shit."

Once the bag was empty and Patrick was full, Papa Mark started timing. "Try to hold it as long as you can, okay?"

"No prob, Mr. Mark," Patrick laughed. "My asshole father trained me to keep my asshole tight with enemas. If I lost anything, I'd have to lick it off the floor. Then he'd beat me. I learned to hold them . . . Yow! A cramp. No problem. I got it."

Patrick was acting really weird all of a sudden.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked.

"I think he's finally relaxed," Papa Mark answered. "With that and the enema, I think the drugs are kind of taking over." Right then, Papa Marks watch buzzed. "Time to take the tube out, Pat."

I know when I've had enemas, the water's all poopy. I expected to see that when Patrick let loose. But it wasn't. It was just a little brown with a few bits of poop. The next two enemas were faster and not as big. Each one came out clear, too. And yeah, Patrick didn't have another cum. Patrick asked if I could hose him down. I loved doing it.

I helped Patrick out of the tub. His eyes looked wild. His dick was still hard, but not as much as when he squirted in the tub. I didn't care if Papa Mark saw me. Patrick was my boyfriend. I knelt and sucked on his hardness, taking him all the way in. He twitched inside my mouth, moaned, then started giggling.

"You're gonna make me . . . " Then he broke off as his dickie jerked in my mouth. I tasted just a little sweetness, just a tiny bit of the boy I loved so much.

When I pulled off, Papa Mark pulled me into a side hug. "That was sweet, honey. This is a good time to show Patrick your love. He needs it so much right now."

All four of us dried Patrick off. I got to dry his butt crack, but I let Papa Mark dry his nasty looking hole. Of course, I got to dry off his dickie. Still hard, just like me. And just like Papa Mark from what I could tell in his pants.

"All cleaned out," Papa Mark said as we came back into the room. Daddy motioned Patrick over to bed and had him lie on his left side.

"Okay, guys. It's time to give Patrick some privacy. This will take about 15 minutes. I'll call you down . . . " Daddy said.

"Nooooooooo!" Patrick shrieked, the goofy, giggly Patrick gone. "I want them here. They're my only family."

Daddy rubbed Patrick's naked leg gently. "Are you sure, Patrick? We're going to be doing something very private."

"Please, sir. Please?"

Daddy nodded his head. "Trent, come sit next to Patrick and hold his hand. Now, Patrick, normally we give patients a mild anesthetic or at least something to make entry less uncomfortable. But because of the drugs you have in you, I don't dare do that. This probably will hurt. Squeeze Trent's hand when it hurts. If you need to yell out, you can do so."

Patrick was crying and shaking. "I'm sorry about taking the drugs, sir. I really didn't want to."

"That's okay, son. I know you didn't."

Papa Mark pulled Patrick's right leg up and gently pulled his butt cheeks apart. I couldn't help but look, even though it scared me to. I think Jamie and Chrissy felt the same way. Their faces were squinched up, and Chrissy had his fist up to his mouth. Daddy carefully pulled apart the nasty looking red tissue sticking out of Patrick's poo hole and put the tip of a tube of lube in him. He squeezed the tube, slowly pulling it out.

Patrick giggled. "That's cold but it feels good."

Then Daddy slipped the scope thing inside about an inch. Patrick gasped and squeezed my hand.

"The rectum is pretty swollen and red," Papa Mark said. "But there's no sign of any ripping."

Daddy fed a little more in and twisted the tube gently. Patrick gasped again, but this gasp sounded different.

"Holy fuck!" my boyfriend yelled. "Holy fucking mother fucking shit." He about crushed my hand.

His body shivered and I could see his dickie throbbing, a small spray of Patrick cum squirting out.

When his shaking and panting stopped, Patrick began crying again.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I didn't want to cum. But you touched my boy place. It felt so good. I'm sorry."

Daddy stroked his leg some more.

"Don't worry, Patrick. That's your prostate, and I had to get a good view of it. But I bumped it by accident. It makes all guys feel better when you touch it. That's one reason anal intercourse is so enjoyable once you get used to it. And in the state you're in now, it's not surprising you had an orgasm . . . a cum like you said. "

Papa Mark said, "The prostate's swollen and maybe a bit bruised. But no signs of tearing or serious damage."

I didn't want to, but I had to look at the big TV screen. I had trouble believing that I was seeing right up into Patrick's poop hole. Right where he pooped and right where he got fucked. (Sorry to say it that way. But that's exactly how I thought right then.) It was kind of reddish and crinkly looking in there. I looked for poop but didn't see any. I did see a lump, but I thought it was Patrick's boy place. I really wanted to be inside of him right then. My dickie. My finger. I know it sounds weird, but I wanted all of me inside him. But not how it'd happened for real. Kind of magic like. I didn't think it was possible, but my boner got even harder. I had a little shiver like a mini-cum. Maybe it was.

The camera started moving slowly deeper inside. As it did, Papa Mark would tell Daddy what he saw. It didn't sound that bad although I couldn't understand everything he said. It felt like it took an hour. I bet it felt even longer for Patrick. But after what was really just about 15 minutes, Daddy said he was finished. He slowly pulled the tube out. More and more of it came out like a long skinny snake had crawled up inside Patrick's poo place. The camera pulled out from Patrick's hole. As it came out, Patrick squeezed my hand and let out a deep breath.

I really expected it to have some poop on it but nothing.

Daddy told Patrick to get on his back. "Doesn't look like any serious damage, son," Daddy said.

Papa Mark left for a few minutes then came back down carrying some clothes.

"These are in better shape than what you came in, Sweety," he said dropping the clothing on the bed beside Patrick. It's funny. When Patrick first came, Papa Mark didn't like him. I could tell. And when he thought Patrick had given us drugs on purpose . . . WOW! I thought he was going to kill him. But now Papa Mark sounded soft and loving, like he is with me even.

Patrick started to sit up, but Daddy pushed him back gently. "Let us do that, Patrick. You rest."

Papa Mark and Daddy then dressed Patrick in clean underwear . . . the first time I'd seen him in a clean pair. Then they dressed him in clothing I'd never seen before. My face must have looked funny cuz Daddy said, "Your uncle and I have new clothing here just in case we hear of some child needing something."

"There's another reason, too," Papa Mark said, "but we'll tell you about that later."

Right then Papa Mark's iPhone rang.

"Yeah. We're down in the rumpus room. Give us about 5 minutes, and I'll call you when we're ready." He turned and told us to get dressed. When we were done, he called on the phone and told whoever was there, "You know where the key is. Just come on down."

A minute later, the door at the top of the stairs opened and man walked down.

"NO!" Patrick screamed. "You said you wouldn't do it!" He struggled to get off the bed, but Daddy lay down gently on him so he couldn't move.

"Listen to me, Patrick. We had to call him."

The man moved slowly toward the bed, giving Daddy a chance to explain himself. I recognized him. He'd visited the house a lot before. His name was Rodrigo. He was always nice to me. After getting to understand about how Daddy and Papa Mark liked sex with each other, I knew Rodrigo sometimes did it with them, too. Not in front of me, but I could hear them in their room sometimes.

But in all those times, he'd never worn his uniform. I didn't even know he was a policeman. Now, I knew it, and I knew why he was here. He waved a tiny wave at me then spoke softly, "Jim, Mark can you come here?"

I was still right next to Patrick so I could hear Daddy whisper to him. "Please trust us, son. You have to let us do what's right for you and everybody else. If we hadn't called our friend Officer Hernandez, you wouldn't be safe. Your father and those men hurt you. If they aren't stopped, they'll continue hurting other children. And I know you wouldn't be safe."

Patrick softened and stopped struggling. I could barely hear his words through his tears. "Okay, sir. I guess I have to trust you. I don't got anybody else `cept Trent, Chrissy, Jamie, and you guys."

Daddy stood slowly, making sure Patrick wouldn't try to run. I snuggled close to him and kissed his cheek. Jamie and Chrissy joined me beside our friend. Daddy, Papa Mark, and Rodrigo stood away from us and whispered. During their conversation, Rodrigo made several calls on his cell phone. Then Papa Mark and Daddy used theirs.

When they'd finished, they came over to us and squatted down. Daddy heaved a sigh and petted Patrick's hair.

"This is kind of hard to tell you, son," he said. "Right after Mark called me, I contacted Officer Hernandez. I told him about what had happened. He got in touch with your principal and found out where you lived. He and other officers went to your house. When they got there, the house was fully engulfed in flames. Your father was getting into an SUV. When he saw the police, he got out and opened fire on them.

"I hate telling you this, but your father has been killed."

Patrick blinked, looked around blankly, blinked again and shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know how to feel, sir. He's done nothing but hurt me and use me all my life. Sometimes I wished him dead. But this doesn't feel good. I . . . I . . . I . . . "

Patrick sobbed. He cried so hard he couldn't speak. Daddy, Papa Mark, and I pulled him into a huge hug. Chrissy and Jamie joined us, even though it was hard for all of us to hug this sobbing boy.

Patrick kept muttering, "It's my fault. It's my fault."

Daddy said loudly so everyone could hear, "It is NOT your fault, Patrick. You did nothing wrong. Nothing. All you did was come over and visit your friend, your boyfriend. On his birthday. You did nothing wrong. It was all your father's doing. You understand?"

I don't know how long we all squeezed our love into Patrick that evening, but eventually his sobbed slowed then stopped. I think he was plain cried out. He pulled away from us and looked at Rodrigo.

"What about the others?" he asked.

"We don't know if they were in the house or not," Rodrigo answered, putting his hand on Patrick's shoulder. "But my supervisor thinks they all split as soon as they knew you'd run away. Your father was probably last. He'd put several suitcases of money and DVDs into the SUV. We figure he torched the place to get rid of evidence. The fire had burned long enough that there won't be much left in the ruins."

Patrick sat quietly for a few minutes. His eyes glistened, but he didn't cry. "Where will I go? I have no place to go."

This wasn't a question. Just the statement of a frightened little boy. For the first time since I'd met him, Patrick did seem little. Little, scared, and alone. I hugged him the kissed him on his mouth. I wanted him and everyone else to know he wasn't alone.

"We'll figure something out, Patrick. We will." I said, looking pleadingly at Daddy and Papa Mark.

"That's part of what we were talking about, Patrick," Daddy said. "You're going to have to go with Officer Hernandez to the hospital. Either Mark or I will go with you. You get to choose. The boys will still here with one of us. You're going to have to have an official exam. I'll email the colonoscopy results. Because you had an enema, you won't need a rape exam. You'll be kept overnight at the hospital or until the drugs are out of your system, whichever is longer. You'll talk to a psychologist."

Patrick interrupted, "A shrink? He'll think I'm an awful kid all the stuff I done. He'll tell you I'm bad and to keep Trent away from me." He looked on the verge of tears again.

Papa Mark said, "No, sweety, he's going to make sure you're okay and won't try to hurt yourself. You've been through stuff the last few days no kid should ever have to go through. And he won't tell us to keep you away from Trent. Dr. Martin is a good friend of ours. He knows all about Trent and what he likes. We'll tell him that you need Trent and Trent needs you."

Patrick's face softened. "Okay, but where am I going to live?"

"After you're discharged from the hospital, you're going into an emergency foster home."

This time it was my turn to yell. "No! He can't!"

Papa Mark hugged me and put his hand on my mouth gently. "Let your Daddy finish."

Daddy chuckled.

"After you're discharged, you'll go to an emergency foster home. During that time, Mark and I will go to court to have you placed in our custody. It won't be hard. We've been in the process of being approved as temporary foster parents ourselves so Child Protective Services has all our paperwork. We were going to be official next week. But we've now got more important matters."

"You mean I'll be your emergency foster kid,? Patrick asked, smiling for the first time since Rodrigo showed up. "That would be cool."

"Nope," Papa Mark said. "You wouldn't be our `emergency foster kid, Patrick. We want to have you as a long-term foster child. And maybe more if you want."

God, I didn't know one kid could cry so much! But this time, Patrick's tears were joyful.

"But it's going to be a couple of weeks," Daddy said. "And during that time, you won't see us much. The emergency home is very special and it's 3 hours away. We'll visit you, but you and Trent and your young friends won't be able to do anything sexual during that time."

Four young heads snapped in shock to stare at Rodrigo.

Daddy continued, "He knows, boys. It's okay with him. Rodrigo used to be Mark's and my childhood friend. We probably did everything you guys do."

"Still do," Rodrigo said.

Daddy went on, "Plus, your rectum has to heal, and you need some time to deal with everything that's happened. You'll be seeing a psychologist while you're there. We know her and I think you'll learn to trust her. And when you come back to your new home here, you'll have to work with Dr. Martin some more. You probably won't be gone more than two weeks."

I couldn't believe it. I hugged Patrick. Kissed him . . . a deep sloppy tongue kiss which he returned. I ran over to Daddy, hugged and kissed him. I ran over to Papa Mark and hugged and kissed him. I ran over to Rodrigo. I only hugged him although I wanted to kiss him, too.

What had started out as a good day with my birthday party and playing sexy with Jamie and Chrissy turned out even better with Patrick's showing up and giving me his darwings and the butt love. Then it turned awful. Now, it was back to being the greatest day of my life. I got everything I wanted.

Well, almost everything. But who would have guessed that I would be getting that sooner than I thought.

[ONE MORE CHAPTER TO GO]

[I'd love to hear your response to this story. Please email me at auto42376091@hushmail.com.]