THE FOLLOWING MATERIAL IS NOT INTENDED FOR YOUNG AUDIENCES. THIS IS ONLY APPROPRIATE FOR ADULT AUDIENCES. IF YOU ARE NOT OF LEGAL AGE TO READ THIS MATERIAL, THEN YOU SHOULD LEAVE THIS NEWSGROUP NOW. -- Mobius
THE BROTHERHOOD: by Mobius Chapter 7: BEN
It was in October of 1983 when I had my next encounter with the Brotherhood. It was early one Monday morning when there was a knock at my door. I opened it and found a young man standing there in a leather jacket, jeans, and a sweater. His hair was straight blonde with incredible blue eyes. The family resemblance was faint, but I could tell that it was Principal Maxwell's son, Ben.
It had been the week previous when Principal Maxwell asked me to see him in his office.
"Charles!" Principal Maxwell beamed, standing at his desk, "thanks for coming by. First off, congratulations on your engagement. You must be pretty excited."
"We're ecstatic about it," I said sitting down in the leather chair across from his desk. "We've spent a lot of time thinking about how we're going to be a family together. Her son seems to have accepted me pretty well. But I don't think my engagement is why you needed to talk to me first thing in the morning."
"True," Maxwell agreed. He continued by explaining to me that since his son, Ben, had started 9th grade a month previous, he had changed. He had become more sullen, private... not the usual outgoing kid that he knew. He was going out with friends all the time and couldn't explain where they went or what they did. Plus, the principal had heard that he had skipped some classes. He was concerned.
I tried to assure him that it was a teenage thing.. the privacy, the mood, his new other life outside the home. It also probably bothered him having his father as his high school principal. But, Principal Maxwell wouldn't be persuaded. He knew his son... something was bothering him and he wouldn't talk to his father. What could I do but agree to meet with him for a short time, to see if there was anything I could find out. Principal Maxwell was relieved.
So, here we were, face to face.
"You must be Ben," I offered, opening the door for him. He walked in with his backpack and slumped it on the floor.
"Yeah, my dad said he wanted me to talk to you for some reason," he said, sitting down in the chair across from my desk. I closed the door and seated myself, presenting my disarming smile. I had a feeling that this was going to be really simple-- a how-are-you-fine-goodbye kind of session.
"Your dad seems to think that there's something on your mind bothering you and that you won't tell him what it is," I offered.
Ben rolled his eyes. God I love the cocky attitude of adolescents.
"My dad is always so overprotective of me," he replied. "I think he doesn't like the fact that I hang out with my friends rather than stay home."
"Maybe, and that will be your father's problem," I said. "So, there's nothing that's on your mind?"
"No."
"Are you liking the high school?"
Ben's eyes lit up, "Yeah. I met some cool people."
"A lot of people," I asked, "or a couple of really close people?"
"They're real close," he said. "We do a lot of stuff together."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a brush. As he lifted his hand to brush blond- white hair, I noticed a ring-- the infamous ring-- of the Brotherhood on his finger. Somehow that seemed to explain everything. He had become the new initiate of the Brotherhood, the freshman class representative as it were, and he was the principal's son. I could see the potential disaster should certain things come out into the open.
"Uh... Ben," I said, "Sometimes a lot of young people when they're around your age can have a lot of difficult feelings... about friendships, about sex, about the bigger world. Have you been feeling any of these things?"
Ben paused for a moment, "Uh, a little, I guess, but it's not anything wierd or bizarre or anything. I can handle it."
"Do your friends help you handle it?"
He smiled, "Yeah, they've helped me sort out my feelings a couple of times ."
"Well, that's good, Ben. You've got some good supports there. I'm sure your father is just upset that you don't share things with him the way you used to. Do you think these are things you can share with him?"
I had expected him to pause again, but he immediately replied. "Uh-uh. No way."
"Can you tell me?"
Ben really looked like he was holding back. Because I knew how to direct him, we were getting into the stuff that his father had seen... a very distracted young person who had suddenly become very private.
"I don't think I can," he said.
"Ben," I said, finally wishing to lay open the subject once and for all, "Is it about the Brotherhood?" Ben suddenly turned very white as his eyes just gazed at me. His hand, placed casually on the arm of his chair, started to shake a little.
"Ben...."
"Don't tell my father," he begged me. "Please, you can't tell him!"
"Calm down, now," I said leaning forward, trying to comfort him, "I'm not going to tell anybody anything. Professionally, I cannot tell your father anything about what we speak about. It's just between you and me."
"But how do you know?" he asked plaintively. "Nobody is supposed to know."
"Yes," I sighed. "Let's just say that I found out rather inadvertantly."
"Do you think....." he started, stuttering a little, "D-do you think it makes me sick?"
I shook my head, "No, Ben, you're a very healthy young man. Everyone goes through periods in their lives when they want to experiment with their sexuality. You're lucky that you found the Brotherhood, lucky that you found people who care about how you feel."
"I guess," he said. "I'm just a little overwhelmed right now. I mean, the sex is really great, and they really seem to care. It's just so hard having to go home to my father, the principal of my school, and pretend to be another person. It's schizophrenic."
We were quiet for a moment as I allowed him a chance to think about what he was feeling. The duality of having to play two people, one of them true, one of them false, must be very confusing to a teenager, whose self-image changes with the snap of the fingers.
"Can you tell me what happened?"
About a month ago, I was in the cafeteria when friend of mine, Billy Kip, came over to have lunch with me. Now, I knew Billy from the middle school. He was one year ahead of me, and this had been the first time I had seen him since he came to the high school. He and I were pretty good friends in middle school, but when he went to the 9th grade, I didn't see him enough to hang out with him.
"How do you like the high school, Ben?" he asked, scarfing down a cheeseburger.
"I like it alright," I said. "My French class is a pain, but I like all the other ones."
"Beware of Mr. Hawett," he said, shaking his finger at me, "the man is a Nazi. But he'll probably treat you good because you're the principal's kid."
I had been getting a lot of that recently. Since I started, actually. No one really wanted to hang out with me because they thought my father would find out if they were doing bad stuff at the school. So, I had only managed to make a bunch of casual friends.
Suddenly as we were eating, a taller boy walked over and patted Billy on the shoulder as he passed. Billy nodded at him, his mouth full of food.
"Isn't that Todd Davis, student government president?" I asked. "How do you know him?"
"We hang around together all the time," he said after swallowing a bite. "We kind of met when I went up for freshman rep in the government. He introduced me to some of his friends and we just started being friends."
"Yeah," I said. "Look at you-- on the westling team, the student government, honor student. You have a bunch of friends. To be honest, it got kind of lonely with you at the high school."
"That's just because you missed our jerk-off sessions together behind the gym," he said. Now, I had never told anyone this, but sometimes he and I would get together, look at some pornos that he found somewhere, and beat off in front of each other behind the middle school gym. We made it like a game. I didn't think there was anything really wrong with it. But it kind of embarassed me when he brought it up at the lunch table.
He noticed my sudden discomfort.
"Listen," he said quietly. "I found this place... the projector room above the auditorium. I kind of inherited the key from a graduate who used to do theater. I have some mags stashed up there. Do you want to take a look?"
"Sure," I said, "When?"
"Now," he said, standing with his trash on his tray.
"I can't now," I said, "I have biology next period."
"Skip it," he said. "It's only this once."
I knew I shouldn't skip class, because my father is principal and it would look bad on him. But then I realized that why should I have to live up to expectations to make him look good. I'm no slacker, so if I miss one class, it's no problem. I agreed.
Billy led me up to the third floor, adjacent to the balcony doors to the auditorium. He pulled a key out of his pocket and slid it into the deadbolt lock of the plain door marked "Projector Room". Making sure no one was looking, he unlocked the door and we slipped inside quickly, closing it behind us. It was dark until he turned on the light.
The room was small, cramped, and messy with random trash from the theater program. There were counters on both sides of the room and an empty table infront of a covered hole where the projector would go. Billy stepped onto one of the counters and stood up, pushing open one of the panels in the suspended ceiling. His hand emerged with a pile of magazines, tied together with string.
Stepping down from the counter, he handed me the package. We sat on the floor and untied the bundle. The magazines were glossy photos, and I grabbed one off the top. We both started flicking through. I read the letters section... those stories always made me hard. Then there were the photo essays of some ridiculous story in which all of the characters ended up fucking each other in every orifice imaginable. Halfway through the magazine, I came across a couple of pages that were stuck together.
"Hey," I said, holding up the pages for him to see. He sat there with the magazine in his lap, carefully turning pages, his eyes wide with arousal.
"Yeah, sometimes I spill." he admitted. Then I noticed that the open magazine in his lap was concealing his erection, jutting straight out of his fly. His hand casually massaged it, pulling his foreskin up and down on his glans.
"Billy..." I laughed.
"What? Are you all of a sudden so shy? We used to watch each other three times a week two years ago. What are you so embarrassed about?"
He was right, of course. I had forgotten how much we had already shared. It was a relief, because at that point, I could stand to release my own bulging cock from my jeans.
As I opened my fly and fished out my own dick, I said, "I just noticed that you grew some in these last two years."
"Yeah?" he asked. He moved the mag to reveal his erection again. "Do you think?"
"Sure," I said honestly. I must have grown an inch and a half since last I saw it.
"Well, yours is coming along nicely," he said, looking at mine being gently tugged by my fingers.
We sat in silence for a while. I was reading my magazine, masturbating eagerly to the incredibly sexy pictures of threesomes. I could almost imagine my cock in the woman's mouth, rubbing against her breasts, slipping between her legs.
Suddenly, I heard Billy moan. I looked over and saw that he was lying back on the floor, bucking his hips to his hands. He had dropped the magazine and was staring off at the ceiling.
"Ung.... ung.......ahhhhhhhh," he groaned as his cock jerked in his hand. A huge spurt of cum shot up, like a fountain, and landed on his pantleg. Smaller spurts kept leaking from his slit, running off his fisted hand and down into his open fly.
"That was incredible." he said to me, breathing heavily. I smiled at him. The demonstration of his own orgasm had quickly brought me closer, and I had to slow down to make it last longer.
Then, as I watched him, he lifted his right hand to his mouth and began to lick off the the slick white fluid. I had never heard of that before... a boy eating his own cum. It surprised me when he did that.
"When did you start doing that?" I asked, my hand slipping its eager way up and down my shaft.
"Oh," he said, smiling with his relief, "I learned a few new tricks since I saw you last. You have no idea how good they make you feel." With that, he picked up a new roll of toilet paper that was close to his shoulder, unrolled a handful of paper, and started wiping himself off.
I turned away as I concentrated on my own dick. I was hard and willing, but I was having a hard time getting over the top. Billy noticed my problem.
"I want to watch you," he said, sitting up and crawling over to me. I closed my eyes and continued to pump my bulging hot prick. But, even as I tried, it started to get softer in my fist.
"Damn..." I sighed in frustration. I looked at him. He was just concentrating on my dick, watching as I pulled up and down.
"Here, let me help," he offered. With that, he reached out with his left hand and grasped my cock. I sighed with his touch... it had been the first time someone else had ever touched me there. His fingers began to curl around my shaft and began a slow milking motion, pulling up to my glans and then sliding down again. His palm would brush up against my cockhead, sending tingles through my groin.
"Lay back," he instructed. I did as he said and lay back on the floor. He crawled closer to me and continued to jerk my cock. I closed my eyes and imagined in my head that it was the woman in the magazine with the red hair and the huge tits working her fingers up and down my cock. The world seemed fuzzy as his pumping brought me closer and closer to the strongest orgasm I ever had. I felt a hot wave shoot through my crotch and felt an aching throbbing start to erupt from my gonads.
The orgasm swept over me like fire and ice. In the midst, I looked up and saw Billy thrust his head down, taking my cock in his mouth!
"Bill...." I tried to cry out, but I soon had his right hand pressed up against my mouth, preventing me from speaking. I watched as he pressed his face all the way down into my pants, swallowing as gob after gob of my semen spurt from my dick. I felt his tongue flick against me glans, licking up my cream, provoking me into another smaller orgasm, where I added to his lunch by a few more shots.
As my orgasm died, his mouth remained suckled against my cock, his right hand pressed against my mouth. I was too weak to say or do anything. As I lay there catching my breath, I smelled something on his right hand. It must have been his own ejaculate. I opened my lips and stretched out my tongue, tasting the palm of his hand. There was something there, but almost impreceptable.
His hand pulled away and I saw him looking over at me. He had pulled off my cock, now lying wet and limp across my jeans, his head resting against my stomach.
"What do you think of that trick?" he said, gently breathing.
"That was incredible," I had to admit. I had never had such a powerful orgasm. My body was practically numb with the afterglow, a dull ache humming from my groin.
"And there's so much more," he said. He shifted his body until he was lying close to me, his mouth close to my ear, "You have no idea how good you can feel, Ben. I was taught all last year, and now I want to teach you. It's not scary, and its really fun."
"But isn't it gay?" I asked him seriously. I like girls and I wanted to sleep with them. In his response, his hand reached down again and started fondling my cock, still slick with his saliva and my cum. I sighed as I felt the tender stirrings of his caresses.
"It doesn't have to be," he said. "The thing is, I made some really special friends last year. They taught me a whole lot about sex, Ben, about how incredible it can be. But no one in the group is gay. One of them even has a girlfriend and fucks her all the time. But we're special together. It's, like, learning about ourselves as boys, with boys. Its finding out how delicious an orgasm can be with anyone."
As he spoke, his gently moving fingers had caressed my cock into semi-hardness again. His fingers began to slide around it and slowly, gently, pump it up and down again. He was beginning to build me up again after I had just come, and the swarm of sensation began to buzz in my ear again. My ears were hot as blood started to pulse through them rapidly. My breathing started to get ragged.
"I told them about you, about what we used to do together," he whispered in my ear, his hand starting to milk my cock. "They want you to join our club. They want you as a friend, Ben, as only a friend can be."
My cock was fully hard now, his hand pulling on it up and down. Warm shivers started crawling over my skin. I was going to cum again in less than two minutes after my first orgasm. I had never been able to do that before. Whatever Billy knew, it was far more powerful than my private experiences.
"It's safe and private," he continued. "We protect each other and no one else will ever know. It's like a secret club, Ben. You and I were like a secret club once. We can be one again with two other boys. They know so much, Ben. They know so much about pleasure. Once they kept me on the brink of an orgasm for twenty minutes. I passed out after I finally came. And we do everything together... beach, movies, the mall... everything. I've never felt more appreciated. They are my best friends, Ben, and they want to be your friend, too."
"Unnng........" I moaned. I was almost there, his strong hand rubbing and caressing my throbbing cock. I thought my heart would stop. In a thick haze of hot sensations, I felt my dick began to quiver again. I thrust my hips up to meet his fist as he suddenly stopped and let my hard pulsing dick spew a thick gooey load onto his hand. He watched as my semen coated his hand again, smiling with satisfaction for me. It was over soon and my penis softened again quickly, exhausted from its load.
"Well," he asked me, lifting his hand over and presenting it to me, "do you want to join us? We'd love it if you would."
Through my heavy breathing, I lifted my head weakly, sticking out my tongue and licking at my own white milk which gloved his hand. It was a taste I had never experienced and would probably have to get used to.
"I'd love to," I sighed, laying my head back. At that point, he let me rest. Billy licked the rest of his hand clean and then licked my cock clean, too. I was too spent to get aroused again so quickly, but I enjoyed the feel of his tongue on my aching prick. He helped me get cleaned up, and then to actually needed to help me sit up. We put his magazines away and left the room, hugging each other.
For the rest of the day, I was feeling overwhelmed. I was kind of scared, because I didn't know who he had been talking about. I was scared about what I had committed to. I also felt really confused about having sex with him that day... I mean, we really didn't have sex, but he got me off a few times. I had always heard that was gay. I didn't think I was gay, so I didn't understand how I could have cum so powerfully with another boy.
That Friday night, he invited me over to his house. His friends were there. They introduced themselves. It was Todd Davis from the student government and Jason Zander, who was on the newspaper. I was partly relieved to meet them, because they seemed real nice. Then, they started telling me about what they were about, and that they thought that I would be a really nice person to have join them. I still had some fears, but I said that I would do it, that it sounded like fun.
They initiated me a few days later. Shaved all my pubic hair off, then I did things with Ben that went way beyond a jerk-off. But, I felt so comfortable being with him. And it has been fun. Suddenly I had friends. There were people I could call and make plans with, people I could go out with. Sure, we got each other off every week. It was the first time I really felt accepted at the high school.
"But," he finished, "I'm just really confused. I want to have girlfriends and have sex with them. When I grow up, I want a family and get married. But what I'm doing with them is gay, right? Doesn't that make me gay?"
After listening to him carefully, I shook my head.
"Ben," I began, "I've read a lot of studies on young people and sex. First of all, only you can decide if your gay or not. No one else can do that for you. But, if your comfortable having sex in a situation like that, don't let the fear of being gay stop you. The studies show that almost all heterosexual men had some gay sex in their youths. It's all about learning who you are, learning what is right for your life. Being gay isn't necessarily wrong. Have you heard of the word bisexual?"
He looked like he thought for a moment before shaking his head, "No."
"Okay," I continued. "A bisexual is someone who is attracted to both sexes, and has sex with men and women. So, there's another possibility. Maybe, after all of your experiences, you'll decide you're bisexual. But you don't need to decide right now. I know there's a lot of pressure, but trust me when I tell you that you are allowed to take as much time as you like. Remember, if it makes you uncomfortable, then don't do it. On the other hand, if its safe and you feel okay with it, give yourself permission to do it. Don't scare yourself with a label, Ben. It's not worth it."
He thought about what I had said, and I could see on his face that he felt better about it. He had learned that he can have sex with other boys and not have to be gay.
"Thanks," he smiled at me, "I needed that."
"I know," I chuckled. "Relax. You've got good friends who care about you, your parents who love you... you've got a whole lot more than some other people I've met."
"What are you going to tell my dad?"
"There's nothing really wrong, Principal Maxwell. Just regular teen stuff, like I tried to tell you. He'll get over it."
"That's a relief," my employer sighed. "It's just so hard when you have a family and you raise your kids to suddenly see them grow up and away from you. It's hard to stand there and see them making decisions for themselves and not try to force your ideas on them. But I guess it's all part of family, huh?"
"I couldn't have said it better myself," I said, thinking to myself that I was going to find myself a stepfather in little less than a year to Donna's thirteen year old son.
"Well, thanks for your support on this," he said.
"Just be patient," I encouraged him. "He's going to go his own way. All you can do is let him know that you love him no matter what he does, no matter what he chooses for himself."
And that's all I could say. What else needs to be said?