A note to my readers:
I'm overwhelmed by the notes I've been receiving! Y'all are quite kind! Write to me if you want and I promise to answer every email. (BTW, a special "Thanks!" to Kent! His was my first fan email and I slighted him. Keep writing to me! All emails encourage and motivate me!)
The most frequently asked question is: "When will you post another chapter?" Answer: I intend to post a new chapter once a week on either Friday or Saturday. My preference is Friday. Most of the time I have a chapter or two already written, but I'll apologize now, in case I'm late. My current pace is one chapter a week. Otherwise, I'll just make a mess of it, hurrying to post before it's ready.
This is my first time to post with Nifty or even to share my writing in any public venue. But, I'm afraid it isn't my primary "spare time" project. This is just a diversion, albeit an enjoyable one. My primary writing project is editing a book I've written. (And I have a "day job," too!) I've never been published and I'm anxious to see if anyone will actually pay me to write.
However, I'll make y'all two promises: 1) I promise I'll try very hard not to disappoint you and be late with a new chapter; and 2) I promise I WILL complete this story. I've seen other stories go for extended lengths of time before a new chapter was added. That's just too frustrating for anyone trying to keep up with a story. I feel that once a writer starts a story, they owe something to their readers. Writing on Nifty is a commitment that must be honored.
Right now, I expect this story to have about 20 chapters when it's done. We'll see. For now, please enjoy the fruits of my fertile imagination! (Lord knows I've had long enough to develop it!)
My personal advice: Life is short. Enjoy every moment! The enjoyment is even better if it's shared with someone you love! ;)FROM THE END OF CHAPTER 4:
"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."
Nudist Camp Vacation CHAPTER 5 I was stunned and began to panic. Inside. I couldn't afford to let my reaction make Stevey's panic worse. I reeled myself in. Calmly, I picked up my cell phone. "Stevey, which space is he in?" For the first time since he entered my RV, he looked into my eyes. He wasn't focusing. I could tell he was retreating, turning inward. I dropped the cell phone and grabbed his face in both my hands. "Stevey! Stay with me! Don't do this!" He blinked several times, his long eyelashes waving at me. Life returned to his eyes. "Stay with you? You mean it?" Oh, no! He misunderstood my panic! I spoke to him softly, trying to remain calm. I held him gently. "No, Stevey, that's not what I meant. You were spacing out. I was afraid you were going psycho on me. But, staying here is not a bad idea. You're staying here till I can get something figured out, okay?" He looked fractured and confused. "Okay," he gulped. "Listen, Stevey. You're safe, here. There isn't any way anyone can do anything to you while you're here, with me. Understand?" He relaxed his grip on his legs and grabbed me, instead. His eyes were dry as he buried his face in my chest. It was the worst kind of panic. I held him with one arm and reached for my cell phone with the other. I called Frank. His line quickly rolled over to voicemail. He must have been on the phone. I left a message in a gravely serious voice. "Frank, new development. Call me." I sat holding Stevey and rocking him, whispering some soothing nonsense to him. I honestly can't remember what I said, but it seemed to work. He was calming. A few minutes later, my cell rang. It was Frank. "Frank, he's here," I said as I answered the phone. Frank took a profound breath. "Where's the boy?" "He's with me, in my motor home." "Can you keep him there for a couple hours?" "Yes. I'll keep him here." "Okay. This actually makes things easier. Is the guy in his camper?" "Yes, he is. Just a minute." I turned to Stevey. Softly, I asked, "Stevey, which space is he in?" Almost in a whisper, he answered, "He's in eighteen. Three spaces from here." Back to the cell phone, I said, "Frank, he's in space number eighteen. I'm in twenty-one." "Good. I'll be there as soon as I can. There're some things I have to do on the way. And Alan? It's time to tell his parents what's going on." I looked down into Stevey's eyes. "We can't. I made a promise." "But I didn't. They need to know." "Frank, if anyone tells them, it'll be Stevey." Yeah, I slipped. I hadn't wanted to tell Frank his name. "Stevey Smith?" I sighed. "Yeah." "I'm on my way." "Frank, you can't say anything to them." Long pause. "Alan, you're killing me. . . . All right, I won't say anything to them. But you've got to get the kid to tell them himself. They have a right." "Yes they do, but Stevey has a right, too." I was so stern in the way I said that, I startled myself. I guess I was being protective. "He may be a minor, but we've got to think about his feelings." He hesitated and softened his tone. "Alan, how's the kid doing? Is he okay?" Frank has an uncanny intuition about people. "No, he's not." "If his folks don't know about this, it's likely he doesn't have anyone else he can talk to. I'm gonna guess he's bonded with you. That's a tremendous responsibility. I'm only glad it's you. Get him to talk to you. Get him to open up. You're gonna be his psychotherapist." "Yeah, I was kinda thinking the same thing. Let me know when you get here." Without responding, he hung up. I knew that was his way of agreeing. He wasn't completely happy, but he agreed. Both Frank and I knew that by not telling Stevey's parents, there wasn't any way he could get professional help on his own. So it looked like I was going to be "it." I held Stevey until he began to relax. He looked up at me curiously. In a very small voice, Stevey asked, "What's gonna happen now?" "My friend is on his way here. You're gonna stay here till we know it's safe for you to leave. It may take a few hours." He sighed and hugged me tighter. A plan quickly came to mind. "Stevey?" He looked up at me with concern. I took a deep breath and let it out. I whispered, "Stevey, you need to talk about this some more." In a very weak voice, he said, "No. I don't want to talk about it any more." Very gently, I began to stroke his hair. "Stevey, you've been through a very traumatic experience. You need to talk about it so you can put it behind you. Otherwise, it'll be all you can think about. It'll be what steers the rest of your life. You don't want that, do you?" "No," he whispered. After a long hesitation, I allowed him to gather his strength. He finally fidgeted and I knew he was about to say something. Something he could only say with difficulty. "He hurt me. He wants to hurt me more. It's like I don't own my body, anymore. He stole it." I couldn't believe I was sitting on a couch, hugging an emotionally wounded child (okay, a young teenager), talking with him about his sexual abuse, and both of us stark raving naked. God gives us strength at very strange times, but especially when we need it most. "Was there anything about it you liked?" Immediately I regretted the question. I was trying to put a positive spin on this, but how can you put a positive spin on the worst kind of sexual abuse? He thought hard then he blushed, uncomfortably. I could tell he was becoming aroused. I asked very softly, "You enjoyed the sex, didn't you? At least some of it?" He smiled guiltily and looked up at me. He whispered, "Yeah, I liked some of it, sometimes. But I didn't like it when he tied me up, or when he pushed into my . . . you know . . . hard. I liked it when he was gentle. But that wasn't very often." I brushed his hair from his forehead. "Stevey," I whispered, "sex is something that shouldn't hurt. It's best when it's an extension of your love for someone, even if you're alone." He looked up at me with a smirk. I wanted to keep him talking. "You do play with yourself, don't you?" He blushed and nodded. I chuckled and hugged him tighter. "That's okay, Stevey. We all do." He turned his head up so fast he bonked my chin. I bit my tongue in the process. I ignored the pain. Stevey rubbed his head, then turned to me and said, "Really?" I smiled at him. "Really. It's a very natural thing. It's a bodily function like eating or peeing. If you don't relieve the pressure yourself, your body will do it for you. That usually happens in your sleep. It's called a `nocturnal emission' or a `wet dream'." He thought for a moment. "Tim gets those. I thought he wet the bed, once. One morning at breakfast, Mom asked him why his bed was wet and he got all embarrassed. He said he didn't wet the bed, `cause he got up in the morning and peed real hard. Dad looked at Mom and said, `It's a guy thing,' and Mom blushed. She changed the subject, then. Do you think it was wet dreams?" "Yes, Stevey, I'll bet it was. When was the last time this guy, Doug, hurt you?" "He only hurts me when he, you know." "Yeah, I think I do. How long ago was it?" "About a week, I guess. Why?" "Stevey, I have to ask this. Did you bleed? Are you bleeding now?" "I only bled a lot after the first time, then only a little bit after then. I'm okay now, I guess." "Are you sure you're okay now?" "Yeah. Pretty sure. You're not gonna make me go to a doctor, are you?" "No, not if you don't want to go. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do. I'm just concerned that he might have caused you some damage." "Would you be able to tell?" The thought of examining him gave me a weird feeling in my stomach and it wasn't good. "No. It takes a special instrument." "You mean a doctor sticks something up there?" I couldn't help a sheepish smile. "Yeah. It's a regular thing to get your colon checked when you get older. Or when you're hurt or sick." "Oh. Do you think I should get checked?" "Do you have any pain?" "No. It feels kinda good sometimes. When he does it slow." "Stevey, I need to know something. You're old enough now to have developed some feelings. When you look at girls, do they excite you?" "You mean give me a woody?" He laughed. He was feeling more comfortable talking about sex. "Yeah." "Well, I don't know. I only noticed getting wood when I see a really hot guy. Like you. I don't really get up when I see chicks. I like looking at their tits when they're small, like a guy's, I guess. I guess I like looking at guys' tits." He giggled. I let the comment about me pass, but I detected a stirring in Stevey's lap. Okay, so I need to act natural and not freak out like I did last time. I ruffled his hair then smoothed it. "Well, it might be too soon to tell whether you're gay." "I am gay." "Stevey, do you know that for sure?" "Yeah. Only guys turn me on. Tim's gay, too." He said it in a matter-of-fact manner, but at the same time it was as if he had only just discovered it. "You're sure?" He looked up at me with a puzzled look. "Yeah. Real sure. Are you gay?" "We're not talking about me. That's a place we shouldn't go." "Why? I told you all about me." "Yes, but if I started talking to you about me, then, well, people might think I'm trying to abuse you like . . ." "You wouldn't do that. You wouldn't even let me touch you. . . . And besides, who's gonna know what you tell me? I'm not gonna tell anyone." Okay, so now it's decision time. Do I tell him about myself, or not? I know therapists are supposed to be very deliberate about not discussing their own lives. I think it's something about compromising the patient relationship. But this wasn't a patient relationship. This is more of a friendship and he already knows quite a bit about me. The way I figured it, I needed to keep his trust. Trust. The word kept echoing in my mind. "Okay, kiddo, I'll tell you. I'm gay, too." Stevey got excited. "I knew it! You're hot for Tim, aren't you?" WHAT? Another left turn! "Wait a minute! Where did that come from? I hardly know your brother! Besides, he's a LOT younger than me. I'm more than twice your brother's age!" "Yeah, but you get wood when you see him! I saw you!" "When did you see me?" I knew fully well when he saw me, but he didn't really see me. "Last night!" "You didn't see anything last night." "You can't lie to me! When Tim reached for the towel so you could cover yourself, I saw you! Just a little peek. You're cock is so big, you can't hide that thing!" "Stevey, you shouldn't talk like that!" "Well, it's true!" "Stevey . . ." I cleared my throat. "Yeah, I suppose. But, just keep it to yourself, okay?" You just can't hide anything when you're naked! Your every thought is on display for everyone to see! He had a big smirk on his face. "Okay." I figured it was time to change the subject. Stevey's mind was off his potential doom so I suggested playing a game. "Cool! But you can't let me win this time." Big smirk. Did I say you couldn't hide anything from this kid? "Okay, I won't let you win." We turned on the X-Box and I put in a game we hadn't played yet. The difficulty level was a little higher than the others had been. We played for quite a while, taking only short breaks. I intentionally kept him playing to keep his mind off what might be going on outside. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, he dropped his control and burst into tears. I dropped my control and grabbed him up into a protective hug. We sat there for several moments with me rocking him and saying soothing things, smoothing his hair, when we heard a knock on the door. I lifted his chin to look into his eyes. He was a mess. His face and eyes were red as raw meat and his eyes and nose were wet. I took yet another towel and gently wiped his face. The knock persisted. "Coming!" I shouted. Quietly, I said to Stevey, "Are you gonna be okay?" Stevey nodded, but I didn't believe him. Slowly I extricated myself from him and walked to the door. I expected to see Frank, but it was Tim. He bounded up the stairs and passed me with great excitement. When he saw Stevey sitting on the couch, he froze. He turned his reddening face to me and demanded, "What did you do to my brother? Didn't I tell you he's only thirteen?" Obviously, he had jumped to the wrong conclusion. "Tim, I . . ." was all I got out when his fist connected with my glass jaw. For an instant, I saw stars. The next thing I was aware of was Tim hovering over me, shaking me, kissing me. I felt a firm grip release my half-hard pecker. I have a feeling I know what that was about. Both of Tim's hands were on my face. "Alan! Alan! I'm sorry, Alan! Please forgive me! Alan!" "Tim?" I whispered and tried to shake the fog from my head. "Tim! You pack a mighty wallop!" I cradled the left side of my jaw and moved it carefully to see if it was broken. It was quite tender, but there was no apparent permanent damage. He helped me sit up. "How about a little water?" "Right away!" Tim jumped to his feet and fled into the kitchen area, searching for a glass in a cupboard. As I suspected, Stevey was kneeling between my feet, staring wildly at me. He had a look of guilty lust in his eyes. I gave him a small smile. He grinned and blushed. He knew he was busted. It occurred to me that it was probably the first time he'd been able to explore his curiosity without recourse. But I was sure I wouldn't let it happen again. Tim was still running around in the kitchen area. I was enjoying watching Tim's slinky, cat-like movements, so I didn't tell him where to look. He finally found the right cupboard and grabbed a glass. I caught myself being disappointed. I reminded myself of his age. Maybe I can find someone my age in one of those online dating websites. The way I'm beginning to feel, I gotta get laid, and soon! He quickly filled the glass from the tap and returned, almost spilling it in my crotch. With what I was seeing and feeling, it might have been appropriate to have some cold water land there. I carefully took a sip. "Alan, are you alright?" Tim had a terrified look on his face. I wanted to milk his sympathy, but I just couldn't make him suffer. "Yes, Tim, I'll recover. You're quite protective of your brother, aren't you?" He looked very sheepish and blushed a deep crimson. He glanced quickly at Stevey. "Yeah, I guess I am." I would venture a guess he might even have been a bit jealous. I didn't know how to feel about that. A youngster jealous of an even younger lad, over me? Stevey even said I was "HOT?" I know I'm not ugly, but "HOT?" Get real. I'll have to check the mirror, again. Maybe I'm missing something. "Stevey told me he was crying over losing the game." I looked at Stevey and saw that he was trying to signal me. "Yeah, I beat him pretty bad." Then Tim got defensive again. "Couldn't you just let him win once in a while? You did last night!" I'm sure that was a slip, because Stevey slugged Tim in the arm. Hard! "Ow! You already hit me there! That's already sore!" He rubbed his upper arm. "I didn't want him to let me win, Dork!" So! Stevey came to my rescue! My angel is now a hero! I smiled at Stevey and he grinned sheepishly back. I started to try to get up and both of them came to my aid, one on each side. When I made it to my feet, I realized that both of them were plastered against me and I could feel both their dicks on my flanks. Not only that but they were both swelling. I lost it. "I gotta go pee!" was all I got out as I escaped their grasp and scurried to the bathroom. When I sat on the pot, I held my head in my hands. Suddenly I wanted to be home in my bed with the covers pulled over my head. I took several deep breaths then I squeezed out a dribble and flushed. As I was about to appear before my panel of temptation once again, I heard a loud knock on the outside door. What now? Tim answered the door. It was Frank. I heard him say, "Is this Alan Stewart's bus?" Thank God, he didn't say "Geoffrey!" Tim said, "Yes. Come in." Frank sounded puzzled. "Are you Stevey?" "No, that's me," Stevey said from his seat on the couch. "Oh! Then you're his brother?" He pointed at Tim. Tim answered, "Yes," noncommittally. I could tell he was very curious about Frank. "I see. Where's Alan?" "Here," I said, drying my hands. I quickly walked to a naked Frank Holmes and shook his hand. I caught him looking me up and down. Since I had never seen him naked before, I also stole a good look at him. "You've lost weight!" Frank observed. How he knew that for sure, I don't know. He had never seen me naked. At least not until now. What I observed was that Frank was about as solid a man-mountain as ever I'd seen. His thick, muscular legs and arms, and his whole body for that matter, were all covered with a thick matt of black hair. The only thing that wasn't completely covered was his quite impressive cock. Coupled with the strong, dark, attractive features of his face and his bushy black hair, he was even more intimidating naked than dressed. He looked like a human gorilla. I'm glad I'm his friend! The oddest thing about him was that he was wearing black dress shoes and socks. It was hard to see the difference between them and his hairy legs. I almost laughed. Almost. One does not want to anger such a menacing man. "Yes, I have," I said. "The past three years have been difficult." "Hmm. I imagine so." He looked around at Tim and Stevey, then back at me. "Can we talk?" "Uh, yes. Let's go back here." I indicated the bedroom in the back. Looking at Tim and Stevey I said, "Don't go anywhere. Stay here." I realized I was using my business voice when I saw Tim's eyes grow large. I'm sure Stevey knew why I wanted them to stay, but I didn't want Tim to try to cart him off. "Okay?" I said to Tim, a little gentler. Tim relaxed, visibly. "Okay." He smiled. I couldn't help smiling back at that beautiful face. And those dimples! Stewart, you've got to get a life! Stevey nervously pressed his hands together between his knees. He nodded at me. He hadn't stirred from the couch. I'm sure he was quite happy to stay where he was. I walked quickly to the back to meet Frank. He spoke in low tones. "This is an interesting place. I've never had to take my clothes off to enter a place, but there's a first time for everything, I guess." I looked down at his black shoes. They were penny loafers. With pennies in them! Somehow "incongruent" didn't completely describe the impression they gave. I decided that the pennies must have been the work of one of his kids. Probably his eldest daughter. For luck. Frank caught my inspection. Thank goodness he couldn't read my mind. "Yes, well, I wasn't aware of the protocols. Next time I'll be more prepared. . . . This low-life: I managed to find out his real name. I'd rather you didn't know it. The address you gave me wasn't the same as on his vehicle registration as we guessed. Usually I'd have to mail off a request for registration information under the Freedom of Information Act and then wait for it to come back, but I've got a friend who owes me favors." Then he got a very sly look on his face. It was a bit scary. He growled in a low voice, "This molester. I've already met with him. He's leaving. As . . . we . . . speak." I can only imagine the conversation that must have ensued. I'll bet he didn't need to do much persuading. All he would have had to do was stand there. "I convinced him that he should never see or talk to little Stevey ever again. If he does, there will be `dire consequences,' if you catch my drift." He winked at me. I didn't catch his drift and I don't think I want to. It sure sounded good. I'll bet the guy peed on himself. "Frank, I can't tell you how much I appreciate this. You've made a tremendously positive change in a boy's life. But tell me: are you going to continue to watch him?" "Oh, yes! I have someone waiting outside the entrance to this place that's going to follow him. I want to know where he is at all times. I still don't trust that he hasn't moved since he last renewed his registration. Besides, I want to know more about him." "I still wish you'd let me pay you, or at least cover your expenses." "If it gets costly, I'll let you know. But, Alan, this is the kind of case that makes my blood boil! I don't often do a job `pro bono,' but this is one I'm glad to do. I just wish you'd let me get this guy behind bars where other scum can take care of him." The thought made me shudder. I had heard stories about what happens to child molesters in jail. Especially boy molesters. "No. Not unless Stevey changes his mind." He slowly nodded his head. "Let me buy you a drink." "No, I can't. I have to drive back to Austin. But I will take something softer." I led him out to the kitchen area where I reached into the `frig and fished him out a bottle of water. "Perfect," he said. He followed me out to the living area. Tim was still standing wide-eyed and pensive. He obviously didn't know what to make of Frank. "Where are my manners? Frank, this is Tim and this is Stevey. Guys, this is Frank Holmes, my very good friend." Tim looked at me with raised eyebrows. I smiled and shook my head slightly, I hope imperceptively. He finally relaxed and shook Frank's hand. When Frank shook Stevey's hand, he lingered with it as if he wanted to say something. I think I saw Frank's eyes cloud up. Frank cleared his throat as he stepped back. "Well, I must be going." He looked directly at me. "Be sure to let me know if anything changes." "I will. Thanks again, Frank." With that, he left. Tim gave me a curious look as if he had a thousand questions. I wasn't sure if I would know how to answer them, so I volunteered, "Frank's a private investigator. I had some special work for him and he was filling me in." Thank goodness that seemed to stifle Tim's curiosity, at least temporarily. He nodded a big nod and raised his eyebrows. He seemed to relax. Of course, Stevey knew exactly what was going on. Just then, we heard an engine revving and tires spinning in the gravel. I looked out the window and couldn't see anything through the trees, so I ran out the door and down the road toward the sound. I was just in time to see a naked Frank picking himself up off the ground and brushing dirt from his furry body. In the distance, I saw a converted van quickly disappearing in a cloud of dust. I ran up to Frank. "Are you alright?" He looked casually back at me. "Yeah, I'm fine. He won't be! He tried to run me over! I may not look it, but I'm fast on my feet." I breathed a sigh of relief. "Gotta go. I want to help follow that bastard." "Be careful." I was already worried. "Don't worry. I'm always careful." He gave a low rumble as he chuckled. I watched as he walked briskly toward the parking lot, crunching through the gravel. Tim and Stevey had followed me and were watching the exchange. Stevey was shaking, hugging himself. He was staring in the direction of the disappearing van and Frank. Tim's eyes were popping. "Guys, let's go back to my RV." I knew Tim would demand some sort of an explanation. We walked silently back to my campsite. My mind was working overtime trying to think of how to calm Stevey and explain this to Tim, but my jaw was beginning to throb.To be continued . . . .