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William Walter Williams - 3. The Nowhere Boy
For the first time he could remember, Will was so excited he was beside himself. He was going home. Well, not to his home, though he hoped one day it would be. Syl and Artie Jenkins had agreed to take him in and raise him as their foster son, maybe even at some point in the future formally adopt him. He looked forward to the possibility of having a real last name instead of one made up by the FBI. A volunteer organization that provided clothes and other items to residents of Green Meadows, the psychological and educational facility where he had lived since he was twelve, gave him a suitcase big enough for all his clothes, shoes, and books he enjoyed reading, and he was now waiting in the lobby of the center building for the Jenkins to arrive to take him to their home in Warnton, New York.
“Hey, Will, you ready?” a voice asked.
Will looked up and saw his boyfriend, Jeremy Fleischer, standing at the entrance. Jeremy was around five-ten on a slight frame, with dark brown, nearly black hair, brown eyes, dark eyebrows, a hawkish nose, full inviting lips, and a ruddy complexion. Will didn’t know how long he would have the close relationship he now had with Jeremy, but wished it would be forever. One of those death do us part kind of matings. In fact, when they had first met they had professed that very thing.
“What are you doing here?” Will asked.
“Dad had to go see his sister down in Farmingdale and I’m staying with Artie and Syl this weekend,” Jeremy said as he walked over to Will. He grabbed Will’s suitcase, but quickly dropped it. “Hey! What do you have in there?”
“Everything, my life from here at Green Meadows,” Will said. “I’ll be with you in a sec’, I have to check out.”
He went up to the desk, signed the resident log, marked himself out, and handed his ID tag and room key to the aide. “I’m leaving now.”
“Will, you be good and remember, if you ever need to come back, we’ll be here for you, we’ll always be here for you,” the aide said.
“Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll be back. This is going to work. I want this to work.”
“Goodbye Will.”
“Goodbye.”
As he turned away he felt kind of sad about leaving this place where he lived until he was considered fully capable of living outside the controlled environment residents experienced in this place. He’d been here for three years and now he was going into the care of two wonderful adults, who were willing to take him in when no one else would. He grabbed his bag, it was heavy, but he’d been working out and was able to lug the bag out of the building while Jeremy held the door. Artie Jenkins, his new foster father was standing at the trunk of the ’96 black Volvo 850 sedan. Will hefted his bag into the trunk and stood back as Artie shut the lid.
“I guess this is it,” Will said.
“Do I get a hug?” Artie asked.
“For you, always,” Will said as he embraced the older man. When they first met he had been unable to do this, but now he relished the fatherly warmth and comfort Artie offered.
“Come on, Will, we’re stopping at the Waterloo Petro for dinner tonight; it’s a little out of our way, but I like their steaks,” Artie said as he walked around to the driver’s side. Will followed him, but then saw that Jeremy was sitting in the backseat on the driver’s side. He ran around and got in on the other side.
“What are you sitting over there for?” Will asked.
“I have shorter legs, I can fit when Artie has his seat back,” Jeremy said.
“No you don’t, you’re taller than me.”
“Yes, but my legs are shorter, I’m taller in the torso than you.”
“That’s a bunch of crap.”
“Will! Watch your mouth,” Syl said from the front seat.
“Sorry, hi, Syl, how are you today?” Will asked.
“I’m very happy you’re finally coming home to live with us,” Syl said. “Are you happy?”
“Oh, yes, and I’m excited to go to a real school, too,” Will said. He fastened his belt and then looked over at Jeremy.
“What?” Jeremy asked.
“Oh, nothing,” Will said.
“Well, don’t look at me like that, it makes me nervous.”
“Okay.” Will smiled. He saw his boyfriend’s hand on the seat and put his own over it. Jeremy looked at him in a way that surprised Will. The smile was fairly weak, but it was a smile just the same.
Artie drove south to the Thruway and then headed east. Will had been this way a number of times when he was younger and lived with a trucker and he knew exactly where they were going. It was a large truck stop that had a good restaurant. All the truckers sat on stools along counters served by a couple waitresses while civilians sat at tables or in booths off to one side of the restaurant. They had a good buffet that was always well stocked with lots of food, which is one of the reasons Will wasn’t feeling uncomfortable about going there.
They got a table about as far from the truckers as possible, but Will saw a group of four truckers come over their way and sit at the table next in front of them. He recognized one of the truckers as one who had abused him when he was a lot younger and hoped the man wouldn’t remember that night at the truck stop in Ohio when Will had entered his truck.
“Will, you’re not eating; is something wrong?” Syl asked.
“Oh, sorry, no, I’m okay,” he said, but still only picked at the collection of salads on his plate. He glanced up at the trucker and their eyes met. The trucker got up from his seat and walked out of the restaurant. Another man at the table stayed for a few minutes until his cell rang. After he answered it and spoke for a little while, he got up, picked up his bill, and left the restaurant, too. Will did not know what was happening.
“Will, is something going on I need to know about?” Artie asked.
“No,” Will said as he kept his eyes on his plate of salads.
“Will, we don’t have secrets in our family,” Syl said. “If something is wrong let us know so we can do something about it. Please.”
“There was a trucker at the table in front of us that I recognized as one of the men who abused me when I was little,” Will said. “I guess he recognized me, too, and just left. There was another driver at the table who just received a call and he’s gone, too. I don’t recognize the two drivers who are still at the table. Please don’t make a scene, they’re probably already firing up their truck and will be gone in a few minutes.”
Much to Will’s horror, Artie turned around and said, “Excuse me, the other two truck drivers who were sitting with you, do they drive for the same company as you?”
“What’s it to you, bub?” one of the drivers asked.
“Hey, come on, Jimmy, he’s just asking a question,” the other driver said. “Yeah, they work for our company. We’re team drivers, something came up and they realized they had to get back on the road. Is something wrong?”
“Yes, one of the other drivers did something illegal a number of years ago and I was wondering if you knew his name and how we can get a hold of him,” Artie said.
“We aren’t saying anything and there’s nothing you can do about it,” the first driver said. “Come on, Tom, we’re leaving, too.”
“You go on, I’ll pick up the tab,” the second driver said.
“Well, if you come out and don’t see the truck, you’ll have to answer to the company,” the first driver said.
“Yeah, I wonder what they’ll say about you leaving me here,” the second driver said. “And, you driving when you’re out of hours. I bet that will go over real good.”
After the first driver got up and hurried out of the restaurant the second driver said, “What do you need to know?”
“That driver’s name, the company you’re working for, his truck number, and where they’re headed,” Artie said. “I’m sure the police can work with that.”
“Is this something serious?” the driver asked as he began writing on a small tablet.
“Yes, very,” Syl said. “My name is Sylvia and my husband’s name is Art. We just stopped in here this evening because Artie really likes the food they serve here.”
“Yes, I like these truck stops, too, though the Flying J’s served better food before they merged with Pilot,” the driver said. “Here, this should take care of what you need to know. I put my name and cell number at the bottom if the police need to contact me.”
“Thank you, I’m sure they will appreciate all that you’ve done,” Artie said as he took the piece of paper. “I hope your partner didn’t leave you.”
“No, we’ll be here for a few hours for showers and laundry, but if he has gone, he’ll be in much more trouble than me; more, probably,” the driver said. He got up, put a few dollar bills on the table for a tip, and left.
Artie pulled his cell out of his pocket and dialed 9-1-1. After the operator came on the line he said, “Yes, I need to get in touch with the state police about a crime that occurred a number of years ago, but the victim just ID’d the perpetrator who has left the area. Yes, thank you, we’re in the restaurant at the Petro truck stop at exit 41 on the Thruway. Yes, Waterloo. Okay, thank you.”
“She was able to get the local trooper on the radio while I was talking to her and he said he’ll be right over,” Artie said as he put his cell back in his pocket.
“I wish you hadn’t of done that,” Will said. “Maybe he wasn’t the man who did me that day in Columbus. He wasn’t team driving back then and he probably gave me a false name.”
“What did he tell you to call him?” Artie asked.
“Steve, why?”
“What a coincidence that’s the same name I have here,” Artie said. “Were you with him only once or multiple times?”
“A few times, whenever we were at the same truck stop or customer location. He drove for the same company as that guy who kept me addicted to heroin.”
“Okay, no more questions, finish your dinner,” Syl said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Will said as he returned to his salad. He remembered that day three years ago when he was rescued by the police from the trucker who kept him addicted to heroin and rented him out to other truckers who liked to ball little boys. The police and FBI had interviewed him for three days after he’d gone through heroin withdrawal and he remembered giving them names of drivers and the companies they drove for, but, maybe, they hadn’t followed up on that information and made any arrests. Maybe there was a problem with the statute of limitations.
Will finished his salads and went back to the buffet where he chose some scalloped potatoes, green beans, sliced roast beef, and a dinner roll. He returned to the table where he sat down and started eating. Needless to say, he was not in the mood to be doing any talking, especially to a state trooper, but what could he do or say? Artie wanted this to happen and Artie was Will’s ticket to normalcy.
Just about the time Will finished eating his dinner a state trooper walked into the restaurant followed by a man in a suit. Artie saw them standing at the entrance looking over the crowd and he waved to get their notice. They came over, introduced themselves, and asked if we could move to a table in the back.
After they had settled at the new table, the man in the suit, who had introduced himself as Inspector Wells, asked, “Which of you called?”
“I did,” Artie said. “Our foster son, Will, saw a man who had abused him a number of years ago and I thought it would be prudent to call in the state police.”
“Will, what is your full name and what is the nature of your allegation?” Inspector Wells asked.
“My full name is William Walter Williams and I was held against my will by a trucker who kept me addicted to heroin and rented me out to other truckers who got their kicks screwing little boys. Tonight while we were eating dinner I saw one of those truckers in the restaurant, but unfortunately he saw me, too, and must have recognized me even though it’s been at least four years since the last time he fucked me. He was a regular.”
“I see,” Inspector Wells said. “Did any of these assaults occur in New York State?”
“They might have,” Will said softly.
“Well, to be honest, if we can’t prove an assault took place in New York, there would be little point in arresting the perpetrator.”
“Oh, so he goes free to assault however many other little boys he comes across and he remains safe as long as he doesn’t do it in New York?”
“I’m afraid we have to follow the law.”
“Yeah, well, let’s just hope he doesn’t kill any of those boys,” Will said angrily. He knew there was no point in going on with this. Obviously the police didn’t want to get involved. When he had been rescued the FBI was leading the case as part of a nationwide crackdown on trafficking of youth for sexual exploitation. Without the FBI’s involvement now, the New York state police weren’t going to do anything. “I always wondered why there were no prosecutions when I was rescued and I guess now you’ve answered that question. You two might as well get back to doing whatever it is you do, but remember one thing, if you ever come across a lifeless seven-year-old boy lying beside the interstate with his ass torn out and bleeding, know that you had the chance to meet a boy who survived the living hell of human trafficking and now has to live with the memories of the horrible things perverted men do to innocent children.”
“Will, you have to understand these men have to work within confines of the law,” Syl said.
“That’s alright, ma’am, I understand where the boy is coming from,” Inspector Wells said. “Do you have any information on this man?”
“Yes, here,” Artie said as he handed the paper over to the inspector.
“Okay, thank you, but I want you to understand there is very little we can do,” Inspector Wells said. He looked at the paper. “This name and number, who is it?”
“Oh, that’s the driver who provided the information, they work for the same company,” Artie said.
“Bob, why don’t you go out and call this in,” Inspector Wells said as he handed the paper to the trooper, who excused himself and left. “We’ll stop his truck, give it a thorough look, and take him in for questioning. That’s all we can do. If he’s carrying drugs or child pornography, well, then we can arrest him on those charges. To be honest that all I can offer at this time.”
“Well, thank you anyway, uh, Inspector Wells,” Will said. “I know it’s been a long time and before it was mostly the FBI that was doing the investigation, but, you know, it’s just frustrating to know those men are still out there looking for little boys.”
“Don’t worry we’ll do everything we can to keep this man out of New York,” Inspector Wells said. He stood up and held out his hand. Will took it in his and smiled. “Well, goodbye, we’ll be in touch if we need you to make a detailed statement.”
Will watched the state police inspector walk out and looked down at his plate. Then he looked up and said, “Sorry for being such a problem about this, but I was really hurt by what happened to me when I was raised by that man. I just want to be a normal kid.”
“And, we’ll help you do that,” Syl said. “Artie, I think it’s time we went home. Jeremy are you finished?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Come on, Will, let’s go out to the car. After this meal I’ll probably sleep all the way back.”
“Me, too,” Will said.
* * * *
Later that night Will and Jeremy were sitting in only their boxers on Will’s bed. For his part, Will wasn’t certain what to do; after all, it had been some weeks since he’d been here and that last time Jeremy was visiting his grandparents down on Long Island. Of course, they were boyfriends, but still it had been some time since they had last been in a similar circumstance. Simply put, Will wasn’t certain he wanted to participate in any sex act, but when he lay back and stared at the ceiling, not unexpectedly he felt Jeremy change his position and felt the other boy’s moist tongue on his left nipple.
“I missed you last time,” Will said, to which Jeremy softly nibbled at the nipple causing Will’s cock to spring to life. He shut his eyes and immediately a vision of Bobby came into his mind, only this time, for the first time, Bobby was naked and his erect cock seemed to be inviting itself into the relationship. “No, Bobby, not now, later.”
Jeremy stopped his actions on Will’s nipple and looked up.
“What?” Will asked.
“He’s a figment of your imagination. How can I make love to you if you keep insisting on having a relationship with a ghost?”
“But he was naked and I saw his cock.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. I’m scared Jeremy. I don’t want to have a ghost as a lover.”
Jeremy crawled up to where his head was beside Will’s and he lightly kissed his boyfriend’s lips. He reached down and began to stroke the other’s erection until he began to elicit soft moans from Will. For his part, Will could only see this leading to one thing. He sat up and began to pull down Jeremy’s boxers.
“What are you doing?” Jeremy asked.
“Hush, I know what you want and now is the time to step up to the plate,” Will said as he tossed Jeremy’s boxers on the floor. He slipped his own off and turned to the drawer in the nightstand, which he opened and perused the contents. He was interested in only two items, the bottle of lube and the condoms he purchased at the drug store the last time he had been here for a home visit. Without considering what Jeremy might feel as to what was going to occur, he slathered lube down the length of his erect cock and then got up onto his knees. His mind was blank to what he was about to do. Jeremy said they were to be boyfriends, so Will knew only one way to respond to such a statement.
Will spread Jeremy’s legs apart and then he pushed Jeremy’s knees up toward his shoulders fully exposing his virgin hole. He squeezed out a dollop of lube and applied it to the muscled closure. It was all automatic now. There was no feeling, no desire for love, and no caring for what the other felt.
“Will, I don’t want to do this,” Jeremy said, his voice quavered with fear.
“Shut up, you said you want to be my boyfriend, now is time to prove it,” Will said lining up his cock to the virgin’s hole. He leaned into Jeremy’s thighs as his cock sank into the other’s unwelcoming opening.
“Don’t do this Will, please don’t do this,” Jeremy moaned.
Will sank into the hot enclosure and looked down into his boyfriend’s eyes. They were dark with fear, but he didn’t care. This was how he had been taught to have sex from all those truckers who had their way with him. He knew the pain of having a cock thrusting into his young hole and that was the way men had sex with each other. If Jeremy wanted to be his boyfriend, well that could mean only one thing.
Upon reaching balls deep he held himself before slowly pulling back until he was nearly out. Then he pushed back in relishing in the feeling of the warmth of Jeremy’s body on his hard cock. In a moment his thrusts sped up, but the desire in Jeremy’s face was someplace else. Will didn’t care, this was to be Jeremy’s first fuck and the young boy was about to be fully taken by the top boy.
The sensations in Will’s cock started slow, but they grew in strength as the pressure of Jeremy’s anal muscles pressed on his cock. He was close to cuming, but he wanted to make it last. Yet, he knew that the only way that this would mean anything was if he could cum in Jeremy’s ass, thereby taking ownership of this boy hole.
There would be no stopping now. Jeremy would not have a chance to defend himself against the assault. Will’s thrusts maintained their fast and deep pace until he could not hold back. He pushed his cock as far as he could into Jeremy and felt himself unloading years of pent up rage into the other boy. After his cock had finished throbbing in its orgasm, Will pulled it out and rolled over onto his back.
“You son of a bitch, how could you do that to me?” Jeremy asked as he sat up and looked over at the other boy.
“Your ass is mine now, Jeremy, get used to it,” Will said. “Once another boy has put his cum in your ass it belongs to that boy and your ass is mine.”
“You can go to hell!”
“Probably, but you’ll be mine no matter what happens in the future.”
“That’s not good enough for me. I wanted to be your boyfriend, but what’s going to happen now?”
“I don’t see any reason why we can’t be boyfriends. After all, I just bought your ass. I might as well have the rest of you, too.”
“You’re a bastard.”
“I might be, but you have my cum in your ass and I bet you’ll be looking to put your cum in my ass, too, just to consummate our relationship.”
“Fuck you!”
Jeremy got off the bed, picked up his boxers, and left the room. Will lay there looking down at his softening cock. He shut his eyes and immediately saw Bobby standing naked before him. He went to the apparition and knelt at his feet. He took Bobby’s long, adult cock and put it in his mouth. He slathered his tongue over the smooth, sponging surface and worked the head back into his mouth. He pressed his lips against the shaft as the head rested on his tongue. He had given many truckers blowjobs, so he knew what he was doing and he did the best he could to the new cock. He reached up with his fingers and massaged Bobby’s balls, relishing in their firmness.
If it had been real, Will might have gagged a little as the thick cock slipped back into his throat, but Bobby’s cock was only imaginary. In many ways, it was a combination of all the cocks he had sucked as a child, growing up in the possession of that trucker. He felt Bobby’s ball sack tighten and he waited for the flood of cum to splash onto his tongue. It wasn’t as bad as he expected and he swallowed every drop. At the end of the other’s orgasm, the ghost left Will’s presence and he got up to go into the bathroom to clean up all the while wondering what it was going to feel like when Bobby fucked him.
* * * *
The following morning Will woke to the familiar sensation of Bobby’s long, thick adult cock riding his butt crack pausing now and then at his well experienced hole as if begging entrance. He reached over to the nightstand and opened the drawer. Trying his best not to disturb the apparition’s desire for entry, Will found the bottle of lube and brought it out of the drawer. Since he was already naked, he didn’t have to bother Bobby with the process of taking his boxers off, but did need to apply a little lube to his hole even if the cock demanding entrance was only a figment of his imagination. He put some on the tips of two fingers and reached back to apply it to his hole.
“What the fuck?” Will said.
“Shut up!” Jeremy exclaimed. “You had your way with me last night and now I’m going to have my go at you. I would have preferred doing it with just pre-cum, but I’m willing to let you use some lube; just don’t get any on my cock.”
After spreading the lube, Will sank into the bed as Jeremy’s nearly adult sized cock slowly sank into him. He relaxed his muscle, but the assault was still a lot more painful than he expected. He certainly couldn’t say anything, not after what he did to his boyfriend last night.
Jeremy was drilling his hole pretty fast and it reminded Will of the trucker named Fred who had him in Albuquerque when he was eight, except Fred’s cock wasn’t all that big or long. In fact, you could say it was the perfect cock to butt fuck a young boy. And, the trucker knew how to use it, too. He must not have cum recently because he was able to fuck Will two times and then let the boy masturbate him. Will wasn’t too used to holding a man’s cock, but Fred was an excellent teacher and he was patient, too, allowing Will to develop a practical rhythm of moving his hand along the shaft and briefly brushing his fingers across the corona. Toward the end Fred told Will to lay his head on the man’s lower abdomen so that he was staring straight into opening.
Although Fred had cum twice before, Will wasn’t surprised when a big dollop of cum landed on his partially open lips. He kept up his strokes until the man had had enough and pulled the boy’s hand away from his cock. The man pulled Will up to where he could lick the spent cum off the boy’s face. He remembered going back to Lew’s truck with three hundred and fifty dollars in his pocket. Lew was so happy he gave Will an extra hit of heroin before fucking him, too. Will’s butt was kind of sore that night as he tried to go to sleep.
Will’s awareness slowly returned to the fifteen-year-old cock pummeling his hole and he began to wonder how long it was going to take Jeremy to cum and if he would cum deep inside him or pull out and spray it across his bare back. He shut his eyes and immediately Bobby filled his consciousness. His ghost came to him and they began to kiss.
“Stop that!” Jeremy exclaimed as he slapped the side of Will’s head. “I refuse to fuck you if you’re going to pretend you’re kissing someone who is dead.”
“Are you about done or do you want to stop for a while and continue after breakfast?” Will asked facetiously. “You’ve been fucking me for quite some time now.”
“Yeah, well I have a lot to make up from what you did to me last night.”
“How about if I become your sex slave and you can use me as you see fit whenever you want an orgasm?”
“You’d do that?”
“Jeremy I have a lot of experience in doing that sort of thing.”
“Okay, you’re my sex slave. Now, figure out some way for me to have an orgasm before we go down for breakfast.”
“That’s easy, pull out and I’ll be right back,” Will said. He felt Jeremy’s cock slip out of him and he got out of bed. He went across the hall to bathroom where he cleaned his ass and used a mirror to see how much the bigger cock had stretched him. He was surprised at the width of his hole and suspected that was why Jeremy had been having so much trouble having his cum. Maybe all those years of being a child prostitute had damaged the muscle that kept shit inside him. Oh, well, he thought, it would probably be best if he just orally brought off Jeremy.
When he got back to his bedroom with a warm washcloth Jeremy was sitting on the side of the bed with his cock sticking straight up. Will gave it a good cleaning and then lay down on the bed behind Jeremy.
“Okay, I think you had too much lube and couldn’t get enough friction,” Will said. He pulled his knees back to his shoulders, fully exposing his well-used ass to the task at hand. “Come on, shove it in one go. Let’s see if you can get enough sensations now.”
Jeremy knelt before Will’s thighs and positioned the large head of his cock at entrance to his boyfriend’s ass. Will looked up and smiled. “Now! Push it in now.”
The pain was full and hot, but not worse than he had experienced many times in the past. Jeremy’s face was full of concentration as his sank his big cock into the smaller boy’s body until he was balls deep. He pulled out halfway and thrust back in, and did that again and again. Slowly he shortened the thrusts as he sped up the tempo.
“Don’t think about what you’re doing, just fuck me as hard as you want,” Will said.
Pausing the fuck for a moment, Jeremy leaned down and kissed Will full on the mouth. Then as they continued to play tongue wrestling the thrusting resumed at a steady pace. Will reached down and grabbed his hard cock and began to gently stroked it.
“Stop that!” Jeremy hissed when he slapped Will’s hand. “I say when you can have a cum and you can’t have one until I have mine.”
Jeremy pulled out and got off of Will, who questioningly looked at the other boy.
“On your knees at the edge of the bed,” Jeremy said. “I’m going to fuck you from behind. It’ll give me access to your cock if I want it.”
Will did as instructed and felt the cock again sink into him. This time the thrusts were long, slow, and each time the head of the cock crossed his prostate it sent shudders through his young body increasing his desire for a cum. He wasn’t too surprised when Jeremy increased the tempo and shortened the thrusts all the while maintaining full penetration.
Then he felt Jeremy’s hand grab his cock and begin to vigorously stroke it. He hung his head and looked down the length of his torso at the head of his cock as Jeremy’s hand worked on it all the while his boyfriend continued his assault on his young ass. He closed his eyes for a moment, saw Bobby smiling back at him, felt his cock let go shooting streams of cum out onto the bedsheet.
“Yes!” Jeremy softly exclaimed as he sank deep into Will who felt the cock inside him shudder with its own orgasm.
Will stayed where he was with Jeremy’s softening cock in his ass until the other boy finally pulled out and left. Will shut his eyes, but Bobby was no longer there. Suddenly, for some unexplained reason, he felt very, very alone.
* * * *
Having never been to a real school that he could remember, Will’s first day at Warnton High School was nothing he imagined it could be. Luckily, Syl accompanied him to check him in and first off a woman in the office handed him a small piece of paper that had his locker number and combination on it. When he asked what it was for, Syl had to explain where he was from so the secretary was somewhat understanding and explained how combination locks worked. Then she gave him a schedule, which, of course, was totally meaningless, too. She explained the room numbers, where he would find the lunchroom, and the locker room for the boy’s gymnasium.
“Will, you have a good day,” Syl said. “Do you have your phone if you need anything?”
He checked his pocket and said, “Yes, it’s right here.”
“Just to let you know, son, teachers will not let you use that in the classroom,” the secretary said.
“Oh, okay, I won’t. I’ll be okay, Syl. Thank you for bringing me.”
“It’s almost time for second period, you might as well go toward that classroom,” the secretary said.
“Okay, sure, thanks.”
Will looked at the schedule and went out of the office. When he got to the end of the hall and he didn’t know which way to go, so he turned right and watched the room numbers trying to find the number he was looking for, but nothing made sense. He got to the end of the hall and turned around. A bell rang and the hall soon filled with students.
He moved along with the crowd all the while trying to watch the room numbers. He came to another hall and turned down that.
“Hey, what are you doing down here?” a voice asked. He turned and saw an older boy standing there.
“I’m trying to find my classroom,” he said.
“Let me see your schedule. No, you’re in the wrong hall. Go back, turn right, go down to the next cross hall and turn right, again. It will be down there. You’d better hurry because the bell is about to ring.”
“Thanks,” Will said. He tried to hurry, but the flow of students wasn’t having any of that, so he just tried to go as fast as he could. Soon, he was able to get along quite fast because the number of students lessened considerably. Then another bell rang just as he was about to turn right down the new cross hall. He looked at the room numbers and finally found the one he was looking for. He opened the door and stepped inside. Everyone, including the teacher, looked at him. He softly shut the door, but didn’t know quite what to do.
“Are you new?” the teacher asked. She didn’t sound threatening so he weakly smiled.
“Yes, I couldn’t find the room,” he said.
“Mark, are you here today?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Go to the office and get a map for this new student. When you get back I want you to mark out where his classes are. Can you do that?”
“Yes, Ms. Blanchard.”
“Good; go ahead and have a seat Mr. New Student. Do you have a name?
“William Walter Williams.”
“World wide web dot new student dot edu!” someone exclaimed.
The whole classroom broke out in laughter. He didn’t know what the joke was, but knew he was blushing. He sat down in an empty seat.
“Okay, class settle down,” the teacher said. “Today we will discuss what you read last night about the development of railroads in America. …”
Will sat and listened and soon that Mark boy came back. He went to his desk, got his things, and brought them over to where Will was sitting. He sat down and said, “Give me your schedule. Geez, they’ve got you bouncing all over the school. You’re going to need luck getting around today. Okay, I’m going to write your class periods in the rooms then you’ll know where to go after each class. Don’t worry, it’ll only take a few days to figure things out around here. I’m Mark.”
He held out his fist, bumped it to Mark’s, and said, “Will.”
“No, he’s Web, as in world wide web,” whispered a black haired girl with black fingernail polish.
“Mariah! See me after class,” the teacher said.
“Yes, Ms. Blanchard,” the black haired girl said. “If I get detention, you’re on my list, Web.”
“Mariah! Come up here with your things,” the teacher said.
“I’ll get you, Web,” Mariah said as she gathered up her books. She walked up to the front like she was pissed or something.
“Mariah, take this slip to the office,” the teacher said.
“Will, you better watch out,” Mark whispered. “The Black Mariah can be very vindictive.”
“Mark, do I have to send you to the office, too?” the teacher asked.
“No, Ms. Blanchard,” Mark said.
“William, what do you go by?” the teacher asked.
“Will, ma’am.”
“Class, William answers to Will, not Web. If I hear him being referred to by anything other than Will, I will hand out more detention slips. Now, can we get back to the matter at hand?”
The class continued until the bell rang and everyone put their notepaper in their bags and went out of class. Will stood up and went toward the door.
“Will? Come over here,” the teacher said.
“Yes, ma’am, did I do something wrong?” he asked, worried that he’d already screwed up considering the way Mariah had gotten in trouble. Maybe the teacher would blame him for being disruptive to the class.
“No, you need a textbook. Here take this one. Each day I put the reading assignment up on the board before class. Write it down so you’ll be prepared for tomorrow’s class. Where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking.”
“Nowhere,” he said flatly. What else could he say?
“I don’t understand,” she said sounding concerned, but maybe that was only a front to her true motives.
“I was sold into sexual slavery at an early age, so I don’t remember where I came from.”
“Oh, my dear God, you poor boy. Here take this late slip in case you don’t make it in time to your next class.”
“Thank you, Ms. Blanchard.”
* * * *
After figuring out how to find his locker and make the lock work, Will finally made it to the lunchroom where he stood at the end of the line to see what they called food in this place. Unexpectedly, someone bumped into his back. When he turned around he saw Mariah standing there with her fist pulled back. He ducked her strike and heard a voice say, “Enough of that, young lady. Come with me.”
Will looked up and saw a woman in a sweatshirt and track pants pulling a struggling Mariah away. He could only see trouble ahead between them. He picked up a tray and went down the line getting his food. Then he had a problem of where to sit. All the tables seemed to be full and he was almost ready to just go over to the wall where he saw a few students sitting on the floor eating their lunch, but at the last moment, he saw an empty seat at a table. He went up to it and said, “Mind if I sit here?”
He didn’t hear anything close to “no”, so he sat down and started to eat. The food was mediocre, at best, only slightly worse than what you got in a truck stop. He figured about the only good thing he would get out of this food was good bowel movements, something you rarely got from shooting up too much heroin.
“Will I didn’t see you,” a familiar voice said, breaking his reverie over the bland food.
Will looked up and saw Jeremy sitting across from him. He smiled and said, “The Black Mariah almost hit me just a few minutes ago.”
“Yeah, she’s a bitch,” Jeremy said. “How’s your day going, so far?”
“Okay, though it’s kind of hard finding my classes,” he said. “It took me nearly ten minutes to find my locker.”
“Who’s your new friend, Jeremy?” a boy at the table asked.
“Oh, this is my next door neighbor, Will.”
“Is that short for something?” the boy asked.
“William.”
“Wait a minute Jeremy, isn’t that the Jenkins’ house,” the boy sitting next to Jeremy asked.
“Yes, they’re fostering him.”
“Will aren’t they kind of old to be fostering you?” the boy next him asked.
“I suppose so, but it was a special deal that DSS worked out for me,” he said, thinking back to that first day at Green Meadows when he found out that Mr. Jenkins was a former heroin addict and now lectured to teenagers on the dangers of getting into drugs.
“Are you from Syracuse?” the boy asked.
“No, I’m not from around here.”
“Are you from Rochester?” another boy asked.
“No.”
“Albany?” a boy down the table asked.
“No.”
“Schenectady?” another boy asked.
“No.”
“Well, Will, where are you from?” the boy next to him asked.
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather not say, since I don’t know who you are. If I knew who you are and could trust you, maybe I would tell you. Let’s just say for the sake of saying something I’m from nowhere.”
“Nuh, uh, not good enough, by the way, I’m Luke, that’s my brother Phil over there next to Jeremy, we’re sort of like twins. Next to him is Mark, and next to me is Mark’s boyfriend, who also happens to be my second oldest brother Dave. I’m sure you’ll meet the other boys at the table if we end up liking you. Now, what’s this shit about you being from nowhere?”
He was kind of put off by the question, but slowly formulated his thoughts into a coherent answer as it was rather complicated. It had taken him three years of psychiatric therapy to work out what he could of his past, yet he didn’t want to reveal too much to these boys who he didn’t know. They certainly didn’t need to know that he’d been used by Lew and other pedophile truckers for sex.
“Okay, the short answer. I don’t actually know how old I am or who my parents are or where I was raised, but at some point in my early childhood maybe around six I was sold to a man who raised me. He acquired a birth certificate and a social security card for me, but when the FBI analyzed them they discovered they were forgeries. So, technically I’m from nowhere, unless otherwise determined by authorities.”
“Well, there you go Luke, satisfied?” Mark asked.
“Yeah, Luke is that enough personal information for you?” Dave asked.
“Shit, and I thought Phil had it rough,” Luke said. “Will, do you mean you really don’t know who your parents are or where you come from?”
“I have no clear memories of that period of time. I have vague remembrances, but nothing specific. The man who raised me filled my mind with false memories so whatever I remember I can’t be certain if they’re real or were planted by him.”
“Wow, a real nowhere boy,” Luke said. “Wasn’t there a song by The Beatles called ‘Nowhere Man’?”
“Yes, but the lyrics are nothing close to what Will has been through,” Dave said.
“Well, if we don’t have another fag at Warnton,” a boy said when he came up to the table. “And, if I know a thing or two about Jews, and I do, I would say this boy here is the Jew boy’s lover. Isn’t that right, fag?”
“Get lost dickhead,” Dave said. “I’ve had enough of your racist shit.”
“And, what are you going to do about it, fag?”
“Certainly not lowering myself to your level.”
“Well, anytime you want to try me let me know. See you around ladies.”
“Who was that?” Will asked when the boy had walked away.
“That’s Brent Allen, former defensive tackle on the football team,” Luke said. “He got kicked off the team last fall when he beat up a black kid and then pulled a knife on him. If it hadn’t been for other team members around them, he might’ve killed D’shawn. He’s been in juvenile lock up for the past few months, but I guess they let him out and back into Warnton. I guess at his trial he went all ‘neo-Nazi’ on the judge by giving him a Nazi salute and saying ‘hiel Hitler’. As far as I’m concerned, he’s too dangerous to have around, but who am I to say.”
“I think you’re right, Luke,” Mark said. “We’re all going to have to be on the lookout for Brent and his cronies.”
“I don’t know why the cops don’t do something about Brent and his gang,” one of the other boys said.
“Because they won’t unless Brent and his friends actually do something,” Jeremy said.
“Yeah, cops wait until something happens before acting on any perceived threat,” Will said.
“Have some experience with cops?” Luke asked.
“Yes,” Will said. He didn’t offer an explanation preferring to let the others come to whatever opinion of him they saw fit. He was having enough trouble with the Black Mariah to worry about this neo-Nazi and others like him. There was a real world out there and he’d seen enough of it to last a lifetime.
He finished his lunch, said goodbye to Jeremy, and left the table.
* * * *
When he walked into his algebra class Will saw Mariah sitting over in the corner without any students sitting around her. He sat down in the seat next to her and asked, “Is this seat taken?”
“Well, if it isn’t Web, no one is sitting there,” she said blankly. She didn’t seem totally unlikeable so Will thought he’d take a chance on sounding like he might be interested in becoming her friend.
“Why don’t you like me?” he asked.
“Did I say I don’t like you?”
“You threatened me and tried to hit me in the lunchroom, if that isn’t liking someone, what is? But, maybe you’re a good girl.” Give her a chance, thought Will. See if there was some future for them.
“Yeah, well, you got me on after school detention for three days; my dad’s going to be pissed.” She didn’t look at him, just staring at her homework.
“I’m sorry it turned out bad for you, but it wasn’t me who was talking in class and making fun of my name,” he said. He kind of liked the way she looked, the whiteness of her skin or was that the makeup she was wearing, the black eyeliner and eye shadow, and the thin black line of lipstick outlining her full lips. Maybe she could be his girlfriend, not that that would entail anything more than chatting or texting. He kissed boys not girls.
“Mariah! Can we get this class going? Who’s that boy with you?”
“I’m Will Williams, sir, I’m new,” he said.
“Oh, yes, William Walter Williams; okay, got you on my list; now you two, time to start class, no more talking.”
Will hoped he’d made some headway bringing about some peace between him and Mariah. She seemed like a nice girl, but he’d never encountered a girl who wore black clothes, black makeup, had black hair, and what appeared to be pasty white skin. He took out some notepaper and followed along in the class. The review of last night’s homework was meaningless, but from what he’d learned at Green Meadows, it all made some sense.
When the class ended, he said to Mariah, “I won’t see you next period because I have gym, but what do you have last period?”
“History.”
“In room 178C?”
“Yeah, so what.”
“I’ll see you then,” he said, not believing this was actually working.
“Are you hitting on me, Web?” she asked as she started putting her book and notepaper away. She smiled at him.
“No, just trying to be your friend,” he said and hoped she would see that he meant it. “You don’t seem to have any from what I’ve seen.”
“I have friends, but nearly all of them are sophomores, juniors, or seniors.”
“Are they like you?” he asked not wanting to sound threatening.
“What do you mean, like me?” she asked. She stood and Will saw how thin she was, almost boy-like with no hips or thighs.
“You know, so starkly black and white,” he said, getting to his feet. He looked at the map he had of the school and then folded it back up. He put it in his back pants pocket hoping his memory wouldn’t fail him on his trek to the boy’s locker room.
“It’s called goth and, yes, they’re all like me,” she said as she made to walk away.
“Oh, that’s nice,” he said, keeping up with her.
“You’re too innocent Web to be a member of the club, so get that idea out of your head.”
“I wasn’t thinking that; I don’t do weird shit anymore,” Will said. He smiled when she turned and stared at him with a questioning look. Yes, Mariah, I’ve been around the block a few times more than you, he thought. “See you last period, Mariah.”
“See you, too, Web.”
It couldn’t have been more easy, from enemy to friend in one easy step. What would it be like to go goth? Syl would probably try to kill him, or worse, but maybe she wouldn’t. After all, she’d grown up in San Francisco in the Fifties and Sixties and probably had seen it all. What would she say if, say, he brought Mariah home one afternoon after school?
He stopped by his locker, dropped off his books, and then headed for gym. He wondered how they did it here. At Green Meadows he had to suit up in an athletic supporter, basketball or other shorts, and a t-shirt. Would it be the same here? The Jenkins hadn’t said nor had they even brought the subject up. Maybe they were relying on him to ask questions about his life here in Warnton. He would certainly need to get into some form of exercise soon or he was going to pork out, again. He went into the locker room and saw boys in various stages of undress. He tried to avoid looking at the naked ones as he made his way to the office.
“Hey, faggot! What the fuck are you doing in here?” somebody yelled.
Will ignored whoever it was. No use having someone try to pick a fight with him. From his experience at lunch he was expecting things here at Warnton High to be a little more tolerant than out in the real world. Suddenly, unexpectedly, he felt himself being pulled by his arm and thrown up against some lockers.
“I was talking to you, faggot!” Brent Allen yelled in Will’s face.
“I have gym this period,” Will stammered.
“Like hell you do, faggot!” Brent yelled.
The fist was fast and plowed into the younger boy’s abdomen. He doubled over, but the rising knee caught him full in the face. He slumped to the floor.
Somewhere in the locker room a voice called out, “Fight!”, but Will didn’t hear it.
An unknown amount of time passed until Will was startled awake by the smelling salts. He blinked and saw an older man looking back at him.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“My stomach hurts,” he mumbled.
“That’s okay, an ambulance is on the way.”
“My foster mother,” he said, worriedly.
“She’s been called.”
“Brent?” He didn’t know why he asked, but maybe he was just scared. He didn’t think he could take another confrontation with that boy.
“The police came and took him away; he won’t trouble you anymore, today.”
Today, he thought, but maybe some other day. Why were people like that so filled with hate that they didn’t know when to stop. He’d certainly run into enough hateful truckers when he was riding with Lew and the various crazies he met at Green Meadows to confirm that premise. Obviously, Brent was a threat to his well-being and maybe a threat to his life, but what was he to do? The courts were always putting juvenile criminals back into the environments where they caused trouble, so Will was fairly certain Brent would be back. Were there others like him? Did Brent have friends who might cause Will trouble? As much as he didn’t want to think about it, kids like Brent sometimes ran in gangs, which might be detrimental to Will’s life in Warnton.
When the EMTs arrived they put him on a backboard and stabilized his neck. Some of the boys in the locker room helped to put him on the gurney, but he wasn’t in the mood to say thank you. As Will saw it, they could have done a whole lot more to prevent Brent from attacking him and, now, he didn’t feel like rewarding them for standing around and watching him getting beaten down by a kid who was obviously dangerous to other students.
At the hospital Will was taken into the emergency where a trauma team began to exam him. Early in the process it was determined that his jaw was either broken or dislocated so he was given x-rays to give a definite diagnosis. Unfortunately, the jaw had been broken and Will was sent up to surgery so that it could be set and his jaws wired. After surgery he was sent to a room where Syl and Artie stayed with him until end of visiting hours.
Artie told him Brent Allen was a member of a neo-Nazi group and had been in trouble with the law for years. He was certain this attack would keep him out of Warnton, but Will wasn’t convinced because, as Syl said, Brent’s uncle and aunt lived in the Warnton area and he lived with them. He could only hope Brent might have violated whatever probation he was on and would be kept in jail for a long time.
* * * *
Two days later Will was in school with his jaws wired, a pair of wire cutters in his shirt pocket in case he choked on something, and a voice that was a little off because he couldn’t fully open his mouth. He spent most of the day opening his mouth and to show other students he was wired shut. The lunchroom staff had to mix his lunch in a blender so he could suck it with a straw.
In second period, Mariah seemed rather put out that he hadn’t shown up in their history class, but when he whispered, “I was beaten up by an older boy and taken to hospital;” she just smiled.
“I know,” she said. “You’re the talk of the school. Brent won’t be coming back, ever. He was bugging the goth boys, too, you know.”
“Boys can be goth?”
“Oh, sure, and they wear skinny jeans that show off some very important parts of their bodies.”
“They do?” Will looked at her quizzically.
“Would you like to meet some?”
“You said I was too innocent!”
“But, you’re cute, too, Web. Though you’re a little too muscular for skinny jeans, but I bet we could find you something that would make you look sexy, too,” she said with a seductive smile.
He blushed and said, “My foster parents would kill me if I wore something like that.”
“I doubt it, but they would kill you if you went goth on them.”
“Definitely!”
By the end of the day, Mariah had invited herself over to the Jenkins house for a little visit on Saturday and promised to bring over a couple other goth kids with her. Will didn’t know how that was going to turn out, but figured his best option was to let the Jenkins know that some kids were coming over. When they expressed surprise that he was making friends at school, other than Jeremy next door, Will was reluctant to bring up the new clothing option and the makeup he might be wearing if he was going to go goth.
As he walked home from school that afternoon, with Jeremy at his side, he silently wondered what his best friend would say about him being friends with Mariah. When they reached the small park dedicated to the veterans of WWI Will nudged Jeremy and walked over to the gazebo. He sat down on a bench and Jeremy sat beside him.
“What?” Jeremy asked.
“I’m becoming friends with Mariah,” Will said.
“Are you thinking about going goth?” Jeremy asked. “Because if you are, I might not want to be your boyfriend anymore.”
“What’s wrong with being goth?”
“It’s weird and Artie and Syl won’t like it either,” Jeremy said. He looked away, which troubled Will.
“I don’t want to lose you as my boyfriend, but why can’t I make friends other than you?”
“Look, I don’t care if you make other friends, but if you do that goth shit you’ll have to dye your hair; it’s too light to be goth.”
“I can do that, easy.”
“Will, I don’t want you to mess with that goth crowd. They’re too weird for me.”
“Don’t you love me?”
“Oh, Will, why can’t you understand? You know I’m Jewish, even if I am Reformed. I’m the only Jewish boy in the freshman class. I’m the only circumcised kid in my gym class. I don’t want you to be different than you already are.”
“I’m a former child prostitute. Doesn’t that count?”
“Will! Don’t talk like that. Oh, shit! Go ahead, but don’t count on me to be there when you want to be normal again.”
“But, I love you. I’ll always love you. I don’t care if you’re Jewish. I don’t care if you’re circumcised. I only care that you love me.”
Jeremy stood up and walked out of the gazebo. Will stood up and followed his boyfriend, but Jeremy was walking too fast for him to keep up. He was at a loss as what to do so he didn’t try to hurry. He silently wondered if he could be friends with the goths without having to give up Jeremy as his boyfriend.
When he walked in the front door he went into the living room where Syl was sitting in her chair knitting. He walked over to her, bent down to kiss her cheek, and then went over to the sofa where he sat in his usual spot.
“How was your day?” Syl asked.
“Okay; I met a girl,” Will said. “She’s coming over Saturday with some of her friends.”
“That’s nice; go on upstairs and do your homework.”
“Jeremy doesn’t want me to be friends with her.”
“Oh, is there something about her that Jeremy doesn’t like? Does she have a bad rep?”
“Well, she has an edge about her; you know, I think they used to call it testy and she and her friends are goths.”
“Do we need to go to the mall to get you new clothes and makeup? Your hair’s a little light so I may need to dye it. You let me know.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Syl you’re the best.”
He picked up his bookbag and went upstairs as happy as a little kid who had been let on to the biggest secret in the world. First, to be rejected by his boyfriend, but to be accepted by his foster mother made him feel there was hope for him as a normal teen even if he decided to become a goth. He threw his bookbag over by the desk and then lay down on the bed. He shut his eyes and Bobby immediately came to him. He felt the young man’s hot lips on his and the other’s hand lowering his pants zipper. He reached down and undid his belt and pushed his pants and underwear down to his thighs.
Unexpectedly, there was a knock at his door. He quickly put himself back in order and got off the bed. There was another knock and the door opened slightly. Jeremy stuck his head in and asked, “Are you decent?”
Will got off the bed and went to the door. He opened it and smiled, but then frowned when Jeremy walked past him and sat on the bed. Will followed and sat beside him.
“I’ve come to apologize,” Jeremy said. “I can’t run your life, so you can have other friends if you want. It’s a shame you can’t open your mouth because I need a blowjob, but I’ll accept a fuck instead. You are my sex slave, right?”
Will nodded and began to undress. Jeremy went to the door and locked it before coming back to where Will was standing.
“I’ve been reading some sex stuff on the internet and want to try something today,” Jeremy said. “Go over to the desk and lean down over it.”
Will had no idea what was going to happen until he felt the unmistakable sensation of Jeremy’s tongue on his balls and wasn’t the least surprised as it tracked along his taint to his hole. He hadn’t been rimmed in years as most of the pedophiles he encountered in truck stops weren’t the kind of men who were interested in giving little boys any pleasure.
For all of Jeremy’s intent he came off Will’s hole rather quickly. Then Will realized he hadn’t gotten the lube from the nightstand drawer. There was nothing he could do because it was obvious he was going to be fucked with spit. He concentrated on relaxing as Jeremy slid his big cock up into his boyfriend.
One thing about not having too much lubrication was the fuck didn’t take all that long before Jeremy suddenly sped up while keeping his cock buried deep inside Will. Unexpectedly, he felt Jeremy slap his thigh once and then once more. So, their relationship had come to that. First he was a sex slave and now he was to be the victim of violence. He shut his eyes, but Bobby was not there to comfort him.
Finally, Jeremy pulled out and said, “Turn around and get on your knees.”
Will obeyed not knowing what Jeremy intended to do. He watched his boyfriend beat off and realized he was supposed to take the cum on his face.
“Open your mouth as best you can,” Jeremey said. “Come on, I’m about to shoot.”
There was little Will could do so he spread his lips as wide as possible and was rewarded with a stream of cum followed by another and another.
“Close your lips a little,” Jeremy said.
Will did as he was told and felt Jeremy milk his cock into his mouth. Well, so much for volunteering to be a sex slave. A little tear dribbled out of his left eye.
“What are you crying for?” Jeremy asked. “You said you were to be my sex slave and I said I wanted a blowjob today, but you can’t give me one, so you have to take it as you get it. Now, let’s go to the bathroom where you can clean us and I’ll beat you off. Maybe I’ll give you another fuck, too. That was kind of nice without all that lube slicking you up.”
Will wanted to say he didn’t like what Jeremy was doing, but figured there was little use since he was in sex slave mode and slaves didn’t discuss things with their masters. He could only hope Jeremy wouldn’t get any worse.
* * * *
On Saturday about one-thirty in the afternoon, Mariah showed up at the Jenkins house with three goths named Julie, Amber, and Scott. Will welcomed them into the house and showed them back to the screened porch. They sat around the table and remained silent waiting for Will to do something.
“Can I get you something to drink?” He finally asked remembering he was the host.
“What do you have?” Julie asked. Even though she was a senior, she was nearly as short as Will. Her extremely slender body appeared almost gaunt with the white makeup on her face. Her black eyes were almost scary.
“Uh, let’s see, generic cola, lemon lime, spring water, and unsweetened iced tea.”
“I’ll have cola,” Julie said.
“Lemon lime,” Amber said softly. She was a junior and taller, but skinnier than Julie, which, with her black and white makeup, gave her a stark appearance, like someone in a concentration camp photo.
“You know, you’re kind of cute,” Scott said. He was a sophomore and short, skinny, and had a fleeting appearance as if he might blow away in a strong wind like a dried leaf. “I’ll have water. Tap water is fine, with ice, please.”
Will looked into Scott’s eyes and saw the unsaid need for companionship. The white makeup was startling as was the black eyeliner which made Scott look incredibly cute, too. He wanted to go over and kiss him, but knew that the boy would most likely not welcome that kind of attention when he couldn’t say if they were to become friends.
Will left them in them in the screened porched, but Mariah followed him into the kitchen. He got out a wood serving tray from the pantry and glasses from their cupboard and set about making up the drinks.
“I brought Scott along because he’s gay,” Mariah said. “You are too, right?”
Will looked at her, but didn’t respond. He was scared that she’d make too much of it.
“Well, are you gay?” Mariah asked pointedly.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“I thought so, but don’t worry I won’t tell anyone. Is Jeremy Fleischer your boyfriend?”
He nodded.
“Thought so. I’ve watched the way you two look at each other.”
He looked at her and then asked, “What do you want to drink?”
“Iced tea, I’ll put the sugar in. You know, Web, it’s a shame you’re gay because I thought we could maybe date.”
Will made a face that could have been an expression of disappointment or relief as he went about making up her iced tea and put the sugar and spoon on the counter where she could sweeten her tea as she desired. He watched her and wondered what it would be like to date a girl. Would she want to have sex or was that something only gay boys did? What would become of Jeremy if he started dating Mariah since Jeremy seemed to make such a big deal about being Jewish?
When Mariah finished making up her iced tea Will picked up the tray and carried it to the door. He looked at her and she came over and opened it. She smiled in the most intriguing way. He went out into the screened porch and placed the tray on the table. The others got their drinks and seemed not to know what to do. Will sat down at the table next to Scott and Mariah sat across from him.
“Are you a freshman?” Julie asked.
“Yeah,” Will said.
“Does it bother you much that Brent targeted you?” Amber asked.
“Of course, he simply assumed I was gay because I sat at a table in the cafeteria where other gays sat.”
“Are you gay?” Scott asked. “We don’t care or, at least I don’t think we do, because I’m gay and Julie, Amber, and Mariah know. Because I’d kind of like to get to know you. Nothing sexual, just being friendly. It’s hard being goth and having everyone assume you’re gay because you wear makeup.”
“I don’t like it to get around.”
“What are you afraid of?” Amber asked.
“He already has a boyfriend,” Mariah said. “Don’t you, Will.”
“You said my name!”
“Of course I did, I’m not a total bitch,” Mariah said.
“So are we going to turn Will into a goth boy?” Julie asked.
“Do you want to go goth?” Scott asked.
“Sure, my foster mother said it was okay.”
“She did? That’s cool,” Amber said. “Okay, what does Will need to get to go all the way?”
“Hair dye, makeup, and clothes,” Scott said. “He’s a little bit too muscular too wear skinny jeans, but maybe we can find something at the mall. When do you think you’ll be able to go?”
“I’ll have to ask my foster mother.”
“Okay, go ask her,” Julie said.
Will got up feeling strangely happier than he ever had. He was finally going to become the member of a group that was a bit more radical than being gay. He wondered if Jeremy was going to be pissed about this. No, he thought, this was to be his decision, he didn’t have to do everything his boyfriend said.
Syl was in the kitchen making sandwiches when Will open the door. She looked up at the sound of the door, smiled, and said, “I’m making sandwiches for your friends. How’s it going?”
“They want to go to the mall to get me everything I need to go goth,” he said.
“Well, you don’t have any money, so I’ll have to take you,” Syl said. “We’ll take the van and all of them can come along. Go on back and I’ll bring the sandwiches in. It’s good you’re making more friends here than just Jeremy.”
“Thank you, you’re the best.”
“You’ve said that before.”
“Well, I mean it!”
“Go see if your friends want refills on their drinks.”
When he got back to the screened porch all of the goths were too busy chatting amongst themselves to notice Will’s arrival. He stood quietly at the door unsure what to do. Mariah looked up and said, “Oh, Web, what’s the story?”
“My foster mother is making sandwiches for you,” Will said. “Do any of you want refills on your drinks? After we eat she’ll take us to the mall in the van.”
“Come on Mariah you and I can take care of the drinks,” Julie said. “Will you get to know Scott.”
“Why can’t I help?” Amber asked.
“Sheesh Amber are you afraid of a couple of gay goths?” Scott asked.
“Maybe I am.”
“Come on Amber,” Julie said.
“So, we’re alone,” Scott said after the girls left. “Are you from around here? Rochester, Syracuse, or some small town out in the sticks?”
“No, for the past three or so years I’ve been living at a youth treatment center over by Rochester,” Will said.
“Oh, I know that place. There was a kid last year who came here on a foster placement, but it didn’t work out. I guess the foster parents were a little too religious for him. Where were you before that?”
“It’s rather involved.”
“Oh, okay, I can understand that. Everybody’s life isn’t all peaches and cream, some people have it rougher than others. Like that Jew boy who lives around here some place. As far as I know he’s the only kike in Warnton High. He’s always catching shit with that cut cock of his. Can you imagine doing that to a little baby? Those Jews are totally weird people. No wonder Hitler wanted to get rid of them.”
“How can you say that? Jeremy is my friend!”
“Oh, shit! Well, I really don’t know what to say.”
“I think you’ve said enough.”
“Yeah, I guess I’ll see you around then,” Scott said as he stood up. “I’ll just go out the back way.”
Will sat there fuming over what Scott had said. He’d never encountered a person who had ever said such bad things about Jews and didn’t quite know what he was going to do. Maybe it would be best if he didn’t go through with this goth stuff. Maybe what Jeremy said was right.
When the girls came out of the kitchen they were happily chatting, but suddenly became very quiet when they noticed that Scott was gone.
“Where’s Scott?” Amber asked.
“Yeah, what did you do to him?” Mariah asked.
“He doesn’t like my friend Jeremy because he’s Jewish,” Will said.
“You know Jeremy Fleischer?” Julie asked.
“He’s my boyfriend. He lives next door.”
“I know Jeremy and you’re right he does live right next door,” Julie said. “This is fabulous! Hey, guys, we got to get Jeremy to go with us to Rochester. After lunch I’ll go over and ask him.”
“How do you know Jeremy?” Will asked.
“His mother babysat me and my brother and sister when my parents had to go out of town for Amway meetings. Gerald is an eighth grader and Marsha is in sixth grade. It was a real shame when she got cancer and died. We all went to the funeral. It was the first time I’d ever been to a synagogue.
“I never knew Scott was an anti-Semite. You just never know some things about other people. Oh, well, at least he’s gone and I’ll definitely cross him off my friend list.”
“I like you,” Will said.
“Thanks Will, you’re great, too.”
* * * *
“I’m so mad at you right now I could spit blood,” Jeremy said.
They were seated on Will’s bed. Jeremy had gone home when they returned from the mall, but came over after dinner supposedly to talk to his boyfriend.
“How could you send Julie over to my house on the Sabbath? I know you don’t know shit about what it means to be Jewish, but for God’s sake Will sometimes you make me so mad. And, to think, you imagined I would join you in becoming a goth freak just because a bunch of girls were going with us to the mall to turn you into one. I’m not going goth, period!”
“But …”
“Oh, shut up. You can’t say anything to defend your worthless attempts to feel sorry for yourself. You know what I’m going to do?”
Will looked open-eyed at Jeremy.
“Yeah, take off your clothes and get in position over the desk.”
“But …”
“I said to shut up,” Jeremy said and then slapped Will’s face. “Now, get naked and in position. I’m going to fuck your brains out tonight.”
Will stood up and went to the door, which he locked. He slowly undressed while watching Jeremy do the same only this time his boyfriend took a small foil packet out of his pants pocket.
“A condom?” Will asked.
“I’ve been reading on the internet, again,” Jeremy said. “I know you’re safe from STDs and HIV, but you know what comes out of there. This way I’ll keep myself clean from your shit. There is a way we can clean you out, but that would require a lot of work and Syl or Artie might catch you and we wouldn’t want that. Go on get over the desk. These things are supposed to be lubed, but I think I’ll use a little of your stuff just so it doesn’t inconvenience you too much.”
“Thanks,” Will mumbled as he shut his mind against the coming assault, which was just as he imagined. Not enough lube on a condom, no prep of his hole, this was not about him; it was all for Jeremy, who started the whole thing with a sharp slap to Will’s ass.
“Ow!” Will exclaimed.
But, there was to be no mercy. The fuck was indeterminably long. Will was sure Jeremy must have come at least twice before finally withdrawing. He looked around and then ran for the bathroom to take care of an immediate need. As he was sitting there on the toilet, Jeremy came in and took off the condom. He dropped it in the wastebasket and started to run water to clean himself.
“I’ve decided I can do without fucking you so much,” Jeremy said. “I just can’t deal with you going goth, since I’m not going to do it. I can’t imagine fucking you when you have all that makeup on. I’d like to keep being your boyfriend, but I’m going to have to rethink that. Maybe it was a mistake all along. I’ll see you around; after all, Syl and Artie will have me and Dad over for meals on occasion, but I don’t think I’ll want to fuck you anymore unless I really, really need to fuck someone. Your ass is handy. After all, you’re a former prostitute. You should understand these things.”
He dried off his cock and walked out of the bathroom while Will continued to sit on the toilet. He felt a tear dribble down his right cheek, but didn’t brush it away. Another dribbled down his left cheek and it, too, was allowed to go on its way. In a short time, he was uncontrollably weeping. He got up off the toilet, flushed, and stepped into the shower. He was crying now, almost blubbering like a baby who didn’t get his way, but after getting the water to a comfortable temperature, he stepped under the cleansing warmth and began to wash himself.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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