Nudist Camp Vacation

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Nudist Camp Vacation CHAPTER 4

Stevey was trembling as he spoke. His eyes wouldn't meet mine. I could tell it was a determined effort for him to talk about what was troubling him, but he needed to get it out, to unburden himself, to share his torment with someone he could trust. I was honored, but horrified, that he chose me to trust. It was a weight I would carry for the rest of my life, but if there was anything I could do to help this angel, I would do it. I would do it with every tool at my disposal and with my own life, if need be.

He started almost with a whisper, and then his voice grew stronger as he gained momentum. Once he began, it seemed as if he were running downhill and couldn't stop if he wanted to. "It started about two years ago. I was eleven. It was in the summer when school was out. I was checking out the camp for guys my age that I could hang with. Then I saw this old guy. Not as old as you. Not as pretty, either." He smiled at me briefly. "He was staring at me, smiling." At that, he frowned.

He lifted his head and looked with weary eyes into mine. A heavy weight was being lifted from the heart of this innocent. He screwed up his face as he remembered. "He was really weird and I was scared of him. But he started talking to me. I don't remember what he said, but the people who come here are always nice, so I stopped being afraid and just got curious I guess. He said he wanted to show me something in his rig, so I followed him. He had this little RV, kinda like a really small bus. I guess it was a converted van or something. Anyway, he opened the door and I got in. He got in after me and he closed the door. It was just him and me. He had this video game he said he just got and he wanted to play it with me. It wasn't all that special. I had one like it for a while already, but I played it with him, anyway."

Stevey drew his legs up to his chest and put his feet on the couch in front of him in a fetal position. I could feel him retreating, so I reached over and wrapped my arms around his body and legs, trying to cover him with as much of myself as I could. He was still shivering. I waited in silence till he wanted to talk again.

"While we were playing the game, he moved closer to me and I could feel his sweaty skin against my leg. I tried to move away, but he moved against me again, so I just stayed there. He got ahead of me in the game and I was trying real hard, but I couldn't keep up with him. Then I felt his hand on me."

His shivering changed to near-convulsions. I tried to keep him from shaking so violently. My heart was breaking for him. I tried to sooth him by whispering, "It's alright, Stevey. You're safe here. He's not here, now. No one can hurt you. No one will touch you like that ever again." I kissed his forehead and stroked his hair. It must have worked, because he stopped shaking and looked up at me with tear-flooded eyes. His unattended nose was running.

He put his arms around me and asked through his misery, "Alan, you won't hate me will you?"

Without hesitation I replied, "Stevey, I could never hate you. Nothing you tell me could make me hate you. You're my little angel." I meant that. I could imagine a statue of him with wings in some Holy place. Whatever he had experienced had hurt him, deeply.

He rested his head on my chest and relaxed. He was holding me so tight I thought he would pinch me in two. I reached for another towel, held it to his nose and told him to blow. This he did without releasing his desperate bear hug. I gently wiped his tears, then set the towel in his lap and smoothed his hair.

He finally looked up at me and smiled. "Tim said you were a really cool dude, and you know what? He was right."

I bit my lip. I had never had a son, or any child for that matter. At that moment, I felt what must have been the most fatherly love for this child I could muster. Someone had hurt this little angel and I wanted only to comfort him, to make the hurt go away.

Stevey whispered, "I gotta tell you all of it, Alan. I gotta tell someone and you're it."

I found tears in my own eyes and a choking lump in my throat. Somehow, I managed to say, "You tell me anything you want. No more, no less. It's just between us."

He took a haltingly deep breath and let it out. Then he continued, "He touched me like I never even touched myself. He gave me a woody and kept moving his hand up and down on it. Pretty soon it felt like I was gonna pee, so I grabbed his hand. I told him to stop and tried to push him away. He told me I liked it and I didn't really want him to stop, but I did want him to stop. I wanted to run away, but all of the sudden he was laying on top of me. He had me pinned and I couldn't move. That was when he tied me up. I don't know where he had the ropes. He must have pulled them from under the cushions. He tied my hands to something at the end of the couch and then my feet to the other end of the couch. I started to scream and cry, but he put his hand over my mouth and I couldn't breathe. Then he put something like a rag or something in my mouth."

He looked up into my eyes and said, "Alan, I was really, really scared! Then he put my woody in his mouth and sucked on it till it really felt like I was peeing. He was being so mean; I didn't care if I peed in his mouth then. But I didn't pee. It felt like electricity all over my body. I felt really bad and I tried to scream for help. I couldn't stop crying. I thought I was gonna die. Then he turned me over and started to play with my butt. He got something slimy and rubbed it on me, in my crack. Then he poked his finger up . . . you know, up there. It burned and hurt for a while, but then it stopped hurting. Then he stuck something else up there. It was bigger. It burned some more, then the burning went away again. After a while, he took that out and he climbed on top of me. I felt him put his dick up there. His dick was really big and it really hurt, bad! I must have gone to sleep, cause I woke up and he was just laying on me breathing hard. He was really heavy and I could hardly breathe. My butt hurt really bad. He climbed off me, wiped my butt with something soft and cleaned all the slime off me. Then he turned me over again and told me it was over. He asked me if I was gonna scream again if he took the rag out of my mouth. I shook my head, no,' so he took it out. It was easier to breathe, then. Then he untied my hands and feet. He looked at the places where he tied the ropes on my wrists and ankles. They were really red. It took a while before I could feel my hands and feet again."

He took several deep breaths and continued. "He kept me from leaving his RV till it was almost dark. Just before he let me go, he told me he wanted me to come back tomorrow. He told me that if I didn't, he'd tell everyone I was queer and my mom and dad would hate me. I remember I cried. I didn't want my mom and dad to hate me. So I came back the next day. He didn't tie me up anymore, but he made me do things to him to make him get off. Sometimes I jacked him, sometimes I licked him and when my butt stopped hurting so much, he put his dick in my butt again. After he had to go back to work after his vacation, he came back just on weekends. I kept hoping he'd just stay away or die somewhere. Then when school started he found out where I went to school and sometimes he'd pick me up with his van and drive to a parking lot somewhere and he'd do things to me and make me do things, then drive me home about the same time the bus would've dropped me off."

He was still watching my face as he wound down. "Sometimes it's like it's not me there with him. It's someone else and I'm just watching."

Somehow, he had disconnected. I had read about this when I was in the depths of my own depression. My hurt seemed so insignificant compared to what I had just heard.

Then he bored holes through me with his eyes as he dropped the bomb. With a steady, monotone voice he said, "He's gonna be here next week, Alan. I don't want to see him anymore. I don't want him to touch me. I'd rather die." He whispered the last part. He began to sob convulsively into my chest, shaking me as he held me.

I knew I had to do something to stop this monster from taking advantage of my angel. My angel! Yes, now I had a responsibility. I had to help him return to a "normal" life, whatever that might be. As if his life could ever again be "normal." His innocence had been wrested from him by a psychopath. I thought of turning the guy in, but dragging this damaged boy through the court system was something I just couldn't bring myself to do. Something had to be done, first to stop this guy from ever doing this to anyone, ever again, then to punish him. I didn't know if I could ever affect the latter, but I could surely do, or get someone else to do, the former. I knew just the man to do it.

When Stevey finally calmed, I stroked his hair, and asked softly, "Stevey, do you know the man's name?"

"Yeah. It's Doug."

"Do you know his last name?"

"No."

"Tell me everything you know about him."

"You're not gonna hurt him, are you?"

I quickly identified what I thought must be "Munich Syndrome," where Stevey was beginning to sympathize with his oppressor "Knowing what he's done to you, I'd sure like to, but no, I'm not going to hurt him. That's just not something I could do. No, what I intend to do is stop him from ever hurting you again. And I want to make sure he never does this to anyone else, either. Is that okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that's just right."

"So, what do you know about him?"

"Well, he's almost as tall as you, but not nearly as pretty." He chuckled. It felt good to see him in better spirits.

I smiled at him. "Thank you. That's a very nice thing to say. Do you know how old he is? And what color are his hair and eyes?"

Well, I guess he's older than thirty, but less than forty. He has short, black hair, like an army guy, and kinda greenish eyes."

"Is he clean shaven? Does he have any facial hair?"

"You mean like a moustache or beard?"

"Yeah."

"No, none of that. Just a sandpaper face."

"Okay. Do you know where he lives?"

"Yeah. He lives in Austin."

"Do you know what part?"

"No. He never said."

"Okay. Well, that's good, but it's not enough." I thought for a moment. "Do you remember what dates he visited here, last?"

"Yeah. He always comes the first whole week in July, starting with the Fourth of July weekend."

It was Tuesday and the fourth of July was just six days away. I had to work fast. "Okay, here's the deal. You know those cards people fill out when they stay here? Y'know the ones with their names and addresses?"

"Yeah. You want me to get the card for the last time he visited?"

"You think you can do that?"

"Sure! Mom never throws those things away, and I know where she keeps `em. I even know which space he camped in, so I should be able to find it. Mom's really organized. It shouldn't be hard to find it."

He was actually excited. It occurred to me that this might be the first time he had ever been able to take charge of his own life.

"Stevey, you're one smart kid. You know, I wouldn't mind having a son like you."

I must have touched a nerve, because his eyes flooded and he grabbed me tightly again, convulsing into my chest. I cried, too. I don't know why. I probably just hurt for him. No one should have to go through what he just described. I've heard of kids seducing someone older, but Stevey had not been prepared for this in any way, shape or form. He had been molested in the worst context.

When his crying was spent, mine was, too. I dried his face and took him to the bathroom to rinse his face. His face was red and his eyes were puffy from crying. He looked an awful mess, like I'd been abusing him myself. I couldn't let him leave like this. I got him to look at himself in the mirror.

"You know, if you leave here looking like this, your mom will think I've done something to you."

He spun to me and grabbed me in a vice-like hold, yet again burying his smooth face in my hairy chest. Then he shocked me to my toes. He said, "Alan, I love you."

Oh. My. God! I hadn't heard those words out of the context of a lover in more years than I could remember. I tried to swallow the lump out of my throat, and choked, "Stevey, I love you, too." I meant it. I had the opportunity thrust at me to save him a life of misery and I would not allow that opportunity go unfulfilled. He was now the challenge of my life. I would buy his salvation with whatever it would take.

I looked down into his cherubic face and said, "Let's get you something to drink. You must be thirsty."

"I am," he said, as he allowed me to turn him toward the kitchen.

"Are you hungry?"

"No, not really."

"Tell you what. You get whatever you want from the `frig, and I'll see what snacks I've got."

"Thanks. That's cool."

He was speaking in low tones as if he were completely worn out. Releasing his inner most secret must have drained him. He found a soda and drank it down before I had gathered any snacks. I carried a box of Pecan Sandies and a box of Cheez-its to the couch where he sat. Taking his empty can from him, I said, "You made short work of that! Let me get you something else."

"Thanks!" He opened the box of Cheez-its and started munching.

I grabbed a couple of Propels from the `frig and handed one to him. "Here. Try this."

"What is it?"

"Actually, it's a sports drink, but it tastes good and it's refreshing."

He looked at it skeptically. "Okay," he said, as he tentatively tasted it. "Hmmm," he said, as he took a gulp. I turned the TV on and put "The Incredibles" in the DVD player. I had just bought it and hadn't had time to watch it yet. Yes, I like kid's movies! In some things, I refuse to "grow up."

"Cool movie! Me and Tim went to see it when it came out." His attention drifted as I saw him looking blankly out the window.

"You think a lot of your brother, don't you?"

He pulled from his distraction and looked at me with a smile. "Yeah. Tim's a really cool brother. I love him a lot."

"As you should. You said you got Tim off without him knowing it. Did you two ever talk about it?"

"Hell, no! I don't thing he ever knew for sure what I did and he never mentioned it."

"Has he ever had a girlfriend?"

Stevey looked at me suspiciously. "No."

"Has he ever had a boyfriend?"

Now he smiled. "No, I don't think so. He said once that he wondered what it would be like to sleep with someone, you know, sexually. I kinda thought I could do that, but somehow, I don't think he'd want to do it with me."

I felt sad, deep inside. It just wasn't right for a boy so young to know so much and to have such thoughts. And yet, there was still so much innocence in him; he was still a child in so many ways. That was what I wanted to protect. I decided not to ask any more questions.

However, he had confirmed my suspicions about Tim. He had likely been a virgin when we had our explosive encounter. Actually, he still was a virgin, mostly. While he had reached orgasm when we were holding each other, there was obviously so much more to it than that. But I suspected that his memory would record that event as his "first time." I wanted badly to make it up to him, but knew I couldn't. He needs someone his own age to have a significant relationship. He apparent infatuation with me must stop.

The movie had just ended and I was sending Stevey off on his mission to retrieve the information card on his abuser, when my cell phone rang. I quickly bid Stevey good luck and answered the phone. It was Bill. He sounded quite excited. He had just finished the interview with Tim, and wanted permission to offer him a job. We discussed what amount would be a reasonable and equitable salary and agreed to make him an offer.

When I hung up, I was ecstatic, but nothing, I was sure, compared to what Tim would be feeling. I'd have to be really low keyed when next I saw him, so I wouldn't give anything away. But how could I keep my secret? It was something I would have to reveal to him, soon. Certainly before he found out who I am from someone else. Oh, God, how am I gonna tell him? I loved Stevey like a son and I loved Tim just as much, but in a different way. Did I just admit that? I just can't take a youngster like Tim for myself. I'd feel like I was molesting him. My chest hurt. Why is it things have to be so complicated?

About twenty minutes later Stevey returned with the card.

"Doug Stevens" it said, and gave an address. I strongly suspected that this predator would not use his real name and certainly not his real address. The card also had a description of his RV, but also it had his all important license plate number. That was the one piece of information that I felt was likely not to be a fabrication.

"Stevey, you're brilliant!" I said. He beamed. "Now, you need to let me make a quick phone call and get the ball rolling on this. I want you to know that what I'm about to do is just as big a secret as what you've told me. Understand?"

"Yeah," he whispered. "I think I do."

"Okay, my angel. It's time for you to let Alan do his stuff, okay?"

He smiled a crooked smile. I suspected there was something else on his mind.

"Your real name is Geoffrey, isn't it?"

Uh, oh. Red flags. Busted! My heart beat faster. I can't deny the truth. "Yeah, it is."

"You're the guy Tim sent that box of chocolates, aren't you?"

I couldn't help but smile at him. He had me. "Yeah, I am. You saw my card, didn't you?"

"Yeah." Sly smirk. He knew he had me cornered, but somehow, I knew my secret was safe.

"And you put two and two together?"

"Yeah."

"I said you were one smart kid, didn't I?"

"Yeah."

"Well, why am I not surprised you found me out?"

"Did you come here to meet my brother?"

Where did that come from? He's right in a way, though. It could have happened that way. I just didn't put the address from the letter and resume together with my vacation. Flash back to photographic memory. Yup. Same address.

I laughed out loud. "You are one seriously smart kid! But, not this time. No, I didn't put the address together with this place until this moment. I had already bought this rig and made the reservations to stay here long before I got your brother's package."

He thought hard for a moment. "Yeah, okay. You're cool. But, are you gonna give Tim a job?"

I smiled. "No, I'm not. My Director of Program Security is. I just spoke with him on the phone, and he's making Tim an offer. Tim will probably be on his way home, soon . . . ." My phone rang again. I excused myself with Stevey and looked at the number. It was Bill, again. This could only mean trouble.

"Hello, Bill? What's wrong?"

"Tim wants more money."

"More money?" I was dumbfounded. I knew he wanted the job. Why would he jeopardize it by asking for more money? "How much more?"

"Not a lot, but it's more than we discussed." He proceeded to say exactly how much. I chuckled. Tim was one cool character.

"Give it to him. And make sure he doesn't leave there without accepting the offer. We need him."

Bill chuckled. "You've already met him, haven't you?"

What, is my every move being broadcast on billboards? I couldn't avoid his direct question. "Yeah, I've met him."

"Thought so."

"Why?"

"One, you're being too easy about this, and you're being just a little pushy. Two, there's something in your voice that says something good's happened to you. Three, I know where you are and it's Tim's home address. Doesn't take much to figure out what's going on. My guess is that you know him better than I ever will. But that's good! It's about time! . . . But, Alan? Isn't he a little young?"

"Bill, you are one sneaky bastard! And yes, he's way too young for me! He's the one who initiated . . . . But that's telling. What we did was an accident, really. Just put him on the payroll."

"You mean, you're not . . . ?"

"No, we're not. Just don't tell him my name. He doesn't know who I am. My meeting him was perfectly innocent. But, I want to drop that bomb, myself. He can't hear you, can he?"

"No, he can't. I sent him on a tour of the office. Okay, boss. And Alan? Good luck. He's awfully young, but he's the sharpest tack in the box. AND he's so gorgeous; he could tempt me to jump ship!"

"Bill! Behave!"

He was laughing uncontrollably as I hung up on him. Stevey was beaming at me as I turned to him.

"You're rich, aren't you?"

"Well, some people would think so."

"I mean, really, really rich."

Now, it's getting embarrassing. "I'm not sure just what you're getting at."

"How much money do you have?"

"Now that's a personal question. But the truth is, I'm not sure, exactly. Much of what I own is wrapped up in the company. It's value is relative to supply and demand. It's only worth what someone's willing to pay for it. The rest is invested in stocks and bonds. Their value fluctuates, so I don't really know how much is there."

Stevey thought for a moment. "Dad says that anyone who's really rich doesn't know how much they're worth. Sounds like you're really rich!"

"Maybe. But not really, really rich."

We both laughed hard. Then Stevey buried his face in my chest, again. He seemed to enjoy that and so did I.

I smoothed his hair and turned his eyes up to mine. "Okay, my angel. You need to let me make a phone call."

"Okay." He released me and started to walk toward the door. All right, I was watching his tiny bubble butt wiggle as he walked. It's hard to believe anyone could hurt anything so beautiful and delicate. Suddenly he turned around and ran back to me, face in my chest again. Then he turned his head up and caught me with a quick kiss on the lips. "Love you, Alan!"

My breath caught. It'll be a while before I get used to that. I whispered, "Love you, too, Stevey."

He turned and ran out the door, slamming it behind him. I stood and watched where Stevey had been. My life of "existence" had become a dream. I didn't dare pinch myself. If I were asleep, I didn't want to wake up.

Coming back to my senses, I grabbed my phone and found my programmed number for Frank Holmes. With a name like "Holmes", could he be anything but the best private investigator that drew breath? Besides, he had an intimidating presence. He was six foot, three, and, by his own admission, was just short of two hundred and eighty pounds. By my judgment, not much of that was fat. I quickly rang him.

"Hello? Alan, that you?"

"Caller I.D. saves an awful lot of introductions, doesn't it? Yeah, it's me. I need a huge favor. Biggest one yet."

"I'm yours for the asking. Just finished an assignment and I was cleaning my desk waiting for your call."

"That's my Frank! Here's the deal: I've got a little friend who's got someone after him. I want to keep my friend's name out of it. Understand?"

Hesitation, as what I said sank in. "What's the perp's name?" he growled.

He never was one to beat around the bush. I could tell he was already bristling. I gave him the information from the card, sharing my intuition about the name and address. Frank shared my skepticism. Then I filled him in on a minimum of details about what had been transpiring over the previous two years, nudist camp included. It didn't seem to faze him that I was in a nudist camp. I judged that he was in "autopilot" mode, collecting facts. He listened in silence, but I could hear a pencil scratching on paper. He always kept coded notes. Notes that no one but he could understand.

When I finished, he spoke in a low, controlled voice. "Leave this to me. His days of abuse are over."

"One more thing, Frank: don't hurt him."

There was a long pause. Frank finally cleared his throat. When he spoke it was in a strained whisper. "Alan, this is the worst kind of person. It would be easy to do something I could be sorry for, later. I'll do as you say. But, I won't promise anything else."

"One more thing, Frank."

Silence.

"Frank?"

"Go on. Tell me." His voice was choked. This was getting to him.

"Frank? You alright?"

"I'll be fine. Tell me what it is."

"He'll be here for a vacation beginning this weekend. Something's got to be done by Friday."

He sighed. "That's a tall order. But I haven't failed you yet, have I?"

I smiled at the sound of confidence and determination in his voice. "No, Frank, you've never failed me. Something tells me you'll be due a big bonus when this is over."

"Alan? This one's no charge. I'll call you later."

I started to protest, but he hung up on me. I sat down on the couch and put my face in my hands. I started to cry. I guess I was mourning the loss of Stevey's innocence, his virginity and the cruelty he had experienced. But, strangely, it actually felt good to be feeling bad for someone other than myself. What a strange mix of emotions.

There was a soft knock on the door of the RV. I wiped the tears from my face and tried to collect myself. When I answered the door, Stevey's angel face was looking at me. He looked lost and frightened.

"Stevey! Come in!" I tried to inject some cheer into him.

He dragged himself up the steps as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders. He walked in silence to the couch and sat, carefully. Then he drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them in a sitting, fetal position.

I panicked as I ran to him. "Stevey! What's wrong?" I demanded as I hugged him, stroking his hair.

After a long pause, he whispered, "He's here. He came early."