William Walter Williams - 4. Kenny Always Dies

“Welcome back William,” the doctor said as he walked into the room where Will sat in a straight backed chair at a small table in one of the reception rooms where children were inducted into Green Meadows. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Dr. Widmark, the night psychiatrist, but I fill in on weekends, too. You weren’t gone very long.”

“Just a week,” whispered Will as he stared at his hands that were loosely clasped on the table.

“That’s awfully quick; what happened?”

“I don’t know; it’s kinda complicated.”

“I spoke with your foster parents. They seem to think you need to come back for some extra behavioral health counseling, but couldn’t tell me exactly why they feel there’s a need for you to be here other than to say they feel you’re out of control with yourself. How do you feel about that?”

“About what?”

“Are you out of control?”

“What do you mean?”

“What were you doing at the moment when they decided to bring you back?”

“Crying.”

“And, why were you crying?”

“Does it matter? They brought me back; now I’ll never get out of here.” A tear trickled out of Will’s left eye quickly followed by one from his right eye. Soon the tears multiplied into a near torrent of emotional collapse, except Will didn’t move nor did he do anything to impede the flow. He cried uncontrollably for a few minutes before Dr. Widmark handed him the box of tissues. He took some and began to clean his face.

“Sorry,” Will whimpered.

“Quite alright; when I spoke to your foster parents they hoped you will go back with them and get help in Warnton,” Dr. Widmark said softly. “They want to do whatever is necessary for you to achieve your dreams.”

“I don’t have any dreams,” Will said adamantly.

“Don’t you dream of getting out of here and possibly going back to Warnton to be around the friends you’ve made when you were out?”

“I didn’t make any friends,” Will said as he stared at the tabletop.

“What about your boyfriend: Jeremy, I believe your foster parents said that’s his name?”

“We’re no longer boyfriends,” Will said angrily.

“And, why is that?”

“Because I raped him and he raped me and then I said I was willing to be his sex slave; and then he said he no longer wanted to be my boyfriend because I was getting to know some kids who are goths.”

Will broke down in a sobbing outburst that Dr. Widmark allowed to go on until Will finally was able to compose himself. He sat there waiting for the doctor to start questioning him, again. This was rather tiring and he wanted to go to a room where he could lay down and sleep.

“So, all those years as a child prostitute came back and you acted inappropriately with someone you might have been able to fall in love with, right?”

“Yes,” Will whispered.

“I want to ask your foster parents to come in so we can all discuss your life and what they need to do when you have a breakdown, if you ever do that, again. Is this okay with you?”

“They’re still here?”

“Of course, this is just an intake interview. I haven’t accepted you back for treatment.”

“You’re not going to tell them that Jeremy and I had sex are you?”

“It’s a very important part of why you’re here today, but I won’t say you two raped each other. Don’t worry I won’t let your secret out.”

“Well, okay, I guess.”

“Don’t worry, William, all I’m going to do is advise them on how to deal with a teenager with raging hormones without the ability to act responsibly with a close friend.”

Will watched Dr. Widmark walk out of the room and waited a moment until he got to his feet. He walked over to the door and tried the handle, but wasn’t too surprised to discover that it was locked. He went back and sat down on his chair. After a few minutes, the door open and Syl, Artie, and Dr. Widmark walked in. Syl sat on the chair to Will’s left and Artie sat on the chair to Will’s right. He gave each a weak smile.

“So, we get to take you home, huh?” Artie asked.

“I guess,” Will said.

“Will had an important breakthrough as to why he had the breakdown at your home,” Dr. Widmark said.

“What was it, dear?” Syl asked.

“I can’t say,” Will said.

“Does this have anything to do with you and Jeremy having rough sex?” Artie asked.

“What do you know about that?” Will gasped.

“Our house is not soundproof. You’d be surprised how much noise your bed makes.”

“Oh, god, what am I going to do?” Will wailed.

“I would suggest trying to be a little more quiet, dear,” Syl said. “While we were out in the waiting lounge Artie called Jeremy’s father and they had a little chat. We think the two of you need to have a little separation. All of us think the two of you are getting in a little over your heads with this sex master and slave thing you’ve come up with.”

“Oh, god, you know everything,” Will wailed and began crying.

“You poor little boy; all those years with that terrible man, you just don’t know how to act like a normal boy,” Artie said. “Well, all of that’s going to change starting today. Dr. Fleischer and I are going to make up a plan for you and he’ll help, too. Plus, we’re getting you counseling in Warnton so we don’t have to come up here on Sunday mornings. Come on, Will, compose yourself so we can get out of here.”

Will sat there sniffling and unable to believe all that had just happened. They knew all about what had occurred in his bedroom and bathroom. All of it! He wondered if he’d be allowed to speak to Jeremy again, even if he might want to. He had lowered himself to a despicable level just to ensure Jeremy would come back to him all the while trying to get in contact with the ghost of Bobby. He picked up some tissues and dried his tears.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Will said.

“Remember folks we’re here to help whenever you need us,” Dr. Widmark said. “William once you get in counseling I want you to concentrate on what you learned here; it will help you get what you want out of life. Okay, William?”

“Yes, thank you Dr. Widmark,” Will said.

“Well, Doctor, thank you for taking time out of your Sunday schedule,” Artie said.

“I’m always here for those who need my help,” Dr. Widmark said.

“Come along Will, let’s go home,” Syl said.

* * * *

The psychologist’s office was on the third floor of a brick building that had a bronze plaque saying it had been built in 1823. Although most of the windows were covered by blinds, the one that wasn’t had a wonderful view of Lake Ontario. That was the first thing Will noticed when he walked in. Upon further inspection he saw there were two easy chairs over by the windows, a couch-like piece of furniture on the wall opposite the windows, a leather upholstered armchair next to the old oak desk, and a red leather desk chair. There was a large bookshelf to the left of the door that stretched to the window wall. There was a large photograph of some mountains over the couch and another with a similar image over the desk. Will waited until the doctor came into the room as he was unsure where he should sit.

“Ah, yes, the timid little boy is uncertain as to where he should go,” the doctor said. “I tell you what why don’t we sit in the easy chairs. I can take notes on my iPad while you’re talking. Okay?”

“Sure, whatever you say,” Will said. He went over to one of the chairs and sat down.

The nameplate on the door said that the doctor was Julius P. Finklemann, BA, MA, PhD, DSc. He wasn’t quite six feet tall and appeared to be in his sixties, like Syl and Artie, but maybe a little older. His hair was gray and worn in a crew cut. Will saw that there was enough for a full style if it was longer. The taut, white skin of his face was full of creases, which could’ve been wrinkles if there was more skin. His bright blue eyes sparkled, complementing his ready smile. Will felt comfortable in Dr. Finklemann’s presence.

“I’ve read your files from Green Meadows and I’m wondering why I haven’t seen you sooner,” Dr. Finklemann said.

“I’ve only been out for a couple weeks,” Will said.

“I should have seen you at least the day after you came here to live with Dr. Jenkins and his wife, but I think we can move on from where you are right now. Does that sound okay with you?”

“Sure, okay.”

“Not very committed, are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“First impression tells me you’re somewhat of a wishy-washy sort of kid. What do you think about that?”

“No! I’m not like that at all.”

“Are you sure? You seem to be the kind of boy kids might call a wuss. Are you a wuss, little boy?”

“No! Why are you trying to provoke me?”

“Tell me about your relationship with the dead gay man who used to inhabit your bedroom. Do you have pretend sex with him?”

Will stared at the doctor wondering how he got this information. Had Syl and Artie heard him talking to Bobby? Had they heard him beseeching Bobby to have sex when all of it would have been pretend? Why had they said those things? What was their game?

“Well, little mister child prostitute do you have sex with an imaginary being?”

“Yes,” Will whispered.

“What? I couldn’t hear you. Did you say you didn’t when all the evidence said that you do? Come on my little child prostitute give me a full account of what you do with your imaginary lover.”

“Why are you talking like this? You’re scaring me,” Will cried.

“Scaring you, little mister child prostitute, how can I, an old and practically decrepit old man, scare you? What does it feel like when your imaginary lover makes love to you? Do you have a cum when you think he’s sucking your little boy cock? Does your little boy prostitute cock spurt cum when he fucks you? Do you suck his imaginary cock? Tell me, little mister child prostitute, what is your sex life like with your imaginary lover?”

“We do everything!” Will stammered.

“You do everything; what a surprise. And, do me a favor and don’t ever say ‘we do’ things again. He’s in your imagination, little boy. And, from what I’ve read about you, you have a big imagination. Now, little boy, tell about how it felt when you raped that boy who thought of you as his boyfriend. Come on, how did your little cock feel in his hot bowels?”

“I didn’t rape him,” Will whispered.

“What did you say? Come on, little boy rapist, tell me all about having your little cock stuck in that other poor boy’s tight anus. Was your imaginary lover fucking you when you raped that boy?”

“No! It wasn’t like that!” Will exclaimed. He couldn’t help himself when he began crying. He looked around for a box of tissues, but couldn’t see one. Why was this doctor acting like this? What was his game?

“You will compose yourself now. Come on, little boy, stop crying like a baby. Did you cry when all those men violated you? Did you? Tell me! Did you cry when you were raped by all those men when you were only a child?”

Will continued to weep unable to stop the tears from flowing down his cheeks. After being with Dr. Fisher and Ms. Hidalgo he didn’t know what was going on. How could this doctor talk to him like this, continuing to berate him about having sex with Bobby, Jeremy, and now all those horrible pedophiles? What was he to do?

“William you will compose yourself now,” Dr. Finklemann said calmly. “Do you need some tissues to daub your tears and catch the snot when you blow it out your little snotty nose?”

“Yes, please,” Will whispered.

Dr. Finklemann went over to his desk where he opened a drawer and took out a new box of tissues. He eyed Will who sheepishly looked back and then he opened the box. He walked back to his chair, sat down, and handed the box to Will who began to clean his face and blow his nose. When Will finished he looked around for a wastebasket, but there wasn’t one in sight.

“Where’s the wastebasket?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, the inevitable wastebasket. It always comes down to that, doesn’t it? It is outside the door. You may dispose of your filthy tissues when you leave. I believe I asked you if you cried when you were raped by all those men when you were a child. Well, did you? Answer me my little boy prostitute or we’ll never make any progress. Did you cry when you were raped?”

“At first,” Will whispered.

“At first, but not later. How old were you when you stopped crying when one of those adult penises penetrated you?”

“I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember. What a pathetic excuse for an answer. So, if you can’t remember when you stopped crying, tell me how old you were when you started enjoying having a man-sized erection shoved into your little boy anus. When was that?”

“I don’t remember that either.”

“You’re a rather pathetic victim, aren’t you? But, you did begin enjoying the feeling of a big cock in your tight little butt, didn’t you? Didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Will whispered.

“Ah, yes, we have made progress my little boy prostitute who has to have a penis in his bottom to have a relationship with another boy. You know that is the reason you are here, don’t you?”

“No, who told you that?” Will asked.

“Your foster parents and Dr. Fleischer.”

“Oh.”

“No complaints, my little boy prostitute?”

“What can I say?”

“Very little, in fact, but I think we made some progress today. Not a lot, but enough for us to stop now. Before you leave make an appointment for next Friday after school and I’ll see you then. Goodbye.”

Will didn’t really know what to say or do. It was all so sudden. He stood up and placed the partially used box of tissues on his chair.

“Oh, no, that is your box of tissues. Be sure to bring it back next Friday, I’m sure you’ll need it. We have a lot more work to delve deeper into your psyche. With time and good luck, we may find the key to your normalcy. Run along.”

* * * *

On Saturday morning Will was out in the garden shed behind the Jenkins’ house watching Artie change the air filter on the lawnmower. They’d already changed the oil and filled the gas tank. All that was left was learning how to operate the thing.

“Get the grass clippers so you can trim the lawn edges,” Artie said. “You should be able to get everything done by the time we get back from Rochester. Any questions?”

“Where do I start?”

“It really doesn’t matter, but I’ve always started with the front before doing the backyard. You can take a little break in between.”

“Oh, okay. The way it looks it might be a nice day. I’ll take my shirt off a get a little sun, too.”

“Make sure you put on some sunscreen and wear shoes, too.”

“Why?”

“If you have an accident with the lawnmower, it’s always best if the blades take off a bit of shoe versus toes.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“And, make sure you turn it off when you’re dumping the grass catcher. You don’t need to be losing any fingers, either.”

“Sure thing.”

“Good; well, we should be back in a few hours and remember stay away from Jeremy. You and he are still on probation.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t go near him. I’m still kind of mad from the way Dr. Finklemann talked to me.”

“He’s a good therapist when it comes to people with deep-seated mental issues. You’ll probably never like him, but he’ll do you a world of good. Okay, Will, I guess this is it. You get your work done good and maybe we’ll go down to Tom Wahl’s in Newark tonight for burgers. How’s that sound?”

“Great!”

“Good; well, Will, we’ll see you later.”

“Thanks for trusting me,” Will said as Artie walked out of the shed. He picked up the clippers and maneuvered the mower out onto the ramp that led out of the shed.

Two and a half, or so, hours later, Will was on his knees trimming the back lawn. Unbeknownst to him, Jeremy Fleischer walked up behind him and proceeded to kick him in the ass.

“Hey! What the fuck is going on?” Will said as he rose up on his haunches and looked behind him. “What the fuck are you doing here? We’re not supposed to be seen together.”

“Yeah, well, I need a fuck and you’re my fuck boy,” Jeremy said.

“We can’t do this; Artie and Syl will be back soon.”

“Shut up sex slave; I’m going to have a fuck and you’re going to give it to me whether you want it or not,” Jeremy said as he grabbed Will’s arm and pulled him to his feet. “We’re going to my house so I can clean you out.”

“What do you mean?” Will asked, scared at the implications of Jeremy’s remarks.

“Shut up! You find out when you need to know. Now, we don’t have all day because Dad will be back from temple in an hour or so.”

“But, we signed agreements we wouldn’t have sex,” Will cried as he struggled against Jeremy’s stronger pull.

“Shut up! Fuck the agreements; they were for you not me. You’re the one who’s wacko.”

“Jeremy! What are you doing over here?” Syl’s voice called out as she walked into the backyard.

“Oh, shit!” Jeremy exclaimed as he let go of Will’s arm and turned to run away.

“Jeremy come here!” Syl exclaimed, but the boy just ran away. “What was he doing over here, Will?”

“He wanted me to go over to his house so we could have sex,” Will said.

“By the look of that red mark on your arm you weren’t going willingly. Okay, finish with the yard and come into the house.”

“Whatever you say, Syl,” Will said as he got back down on his knees and returned to edging the lawn. “I want you to know that I honestly didn’t want to go with him.”

“That’s okay Will,” Syl said. She turned and walked away.

Will didn’t know what was going to happen, but at least he wasn’t over at Jeremy’s house with an adult sized cock up his ass. He wondered what had gotten into Jeremy, as he was usually very amenable to what his father told him. Now, he was going to have to watch Jeremy all the time and be sure never to be alone with him or to be in situations where Jeremy might have access to him.

When he finished the lawn Will put all the equipment back in the garden shed and went into the house. In the kitchen he fixed a glass of ice water, but didn’t notice that Artie had come in, too. He turned to leave, but finally noticed the older man standing over by the refrigerator.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Artie asked.

“I was out back edging along the south bed when Jeremy snuck up behind me and kicked me in the ass knocking me over.”

“Ted told me Jeremy said you enticed him.”

“Who is Ted?”

“That’s Jeremy’s father. It’s actually Theodore, but he shortens it to Ted. How did you entice Jeremy?”

“I didn’t do anything like that at all.”

“What were you wearing out in the backyard?”

“What I have on now.”

“I see. You know the agreement you signed said that you’re not to have any contact with Jeremy until such time as Ted and I see fit that you two can have a responsible social relationship without any forced sex.”

“That’s what he wanted today.”

“Not according to him. He said you called him over here.”

“But, I didn’t. I was too busy with the lawn.”

“Are you saying he’s lying?”

“Yes.”

“Jeremy is a very responsible young man who is known to tell the truth.”

“Are you saying I’m a liar?”

“No, but I’m thinking maybe we need to think about formalizing the no contact agreement in family court. On Monday, I’ll call my lawyer and see what he says.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ted and I will present our case before the family law judge down in Lyons and he or she will formalize the agreement and if either of you breaks the agreement you could face criminal repercussions.”

“Okay, but I don’t think Jeremy will agree to it.”

“Neither you or he will have a choice in the matter.”

“Yeah, but if he breaks it and blames me, what happens then?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Go on and have a shower, Syl wants to go down to visit our grandson in Geneva before we go to Tom Wahl’s.”

The whole afternoon Will felt he was under a cloud of suspicion. He knew there was no way he could clear his name if Syl, Artie, and Jeremy’s father felt Jeremy was more trustworthy. So, he just acted as if he was tagging along on their journey to see their grandson and his family. They had a boy named Derrick who was a year younger than Will so he ended up hanging out with him. After about thirty minutes in the boy’s bedroom they headed out and down a street. Will didn’t know where the boy was going and didn’t really care.

They came to a small park where the boy cut off the sidewalk down a gravel trail through low bushes that soon turned into larger trees. They came to a place where a smaller dirt trail turned off and they followed that a short distance to an open area where there were some wooden planks that had been laid on cement blocks so that they made rudimentary seats. Derrick sat down on one and patted the spot next to him.

“Come on, you can sit right here beside me,” he said.

Not suspecting anything untoward was going to happen, Will sat down. Derrick immediately put his arm across Will’s shoulders and pulled Will to him.

“When I found out you were coming down with Gram and Gramps, I texted their next door neighbor Jeremy to find out who you were. Do you know what he told me when he called back?”

“I can imagine,” Will said suddenly feeling sick to his stomach.

“As I see it since I’ve never considered doing anything with a boy, we have two options here and I think you know what those are.”

“We don’t have to do anything; there is that option,” Will said.

“No, because if you refuse to do anything I’m going to tell the adults that you tried to rape me and they’ll believe me, too. So, how do you want it, in the mouth or ass?”

“If you’re going to give me that kind of choice, I’d prefer blowing you, but since my jaws are wired shut I guess I’ll have to accept being fucked,” Will said.

“Alright! How do we do this?”

“Did you bring a condom?”

“Yeah, ’cause I was hoping you’d let me fuck you. This is going to be so cool.”

“Take off your jeans and underwear; I’ll do the same because we don’t want to get anything on our clothes. Go ahead and put on your condom. We’ll do this doggy style.”

Since Derrick was only fourteen he wasn’t quite so mature that his smallish cock presented Will with much of a challenge. They got down on the ground, which luckily wasn’t damp or dusty, and Derrick got behind Will. The younger boy slowly pushed his cock in and went about doing a fuck in the manner he imagined it should be done, which wasn’t quite so satisfying to Will, but he wasn’t doing this for any satisfaction. All the while Derrick’s little cock was pummeling his hole he thought of Jeremy and what he could do about the unwanted ways he was getting into his sex life. It seemed that no matter what he did Jeremy was forcing himself on Will. He just couldn’t figure a way out.

Derrick was very vocal as he worked up to having his cum and when he finally shoved himself fully into Will he nearly collapsed on the older boy’s back. He stayed in longer than necessary, only pulling out when he was nearly soft enough to leave the condom behind.

“Well, was that all that you thought it would be?” Will asked.

“Yeah, thanks, we’ll do that every time you come down,” Derrick said. “You know, maybe, next time when your mouth isn’t screwed up you can suck me. What do you think?”

“Whatever.”

When they left Geneva, Syl asked, “Will how was Derrick? Isn’t he a nice boy?”

“He said that when he found out I was coming with you he got in touch with Jeremy,” Will said matter-of-factly. “He took me to a secluded place in a park and told me I had two choices. Either I let him fuck me or I could suck his cock, otherwise he was going to run home and tell all of you I tried to rape him. I didn’t see I had any choice considering my jaws are wired, so I let him fuck me. He said next time when my mouth isn’t wired he wants me to suck him. I’m sorry for being so much trouble, but my life is so fucked up I don’t know what to do about it.”

In many ways, Will was surprised Syl didn’t get onto him about swearing, nor was he surprised neither of the adults expressed any shock or made any comments. Instead of going to Tom Wahl’s in Newark, Artie drove back home in Warnton where Syl made Will a couple grilled cheese sandwiches. He ate them in his room.

In the early hours of the night when all was still in the Jenkins’ house, a figure slipped in the unlocked back door and quietly made his way through the house, up the stairs, and stopping briefly at Will’s door. He turned the doorknob and slowly opened the door. He saw the figure of the muscular boy lying on his bed. The unknown figure slowly approached the bed and then holding the gag he had made in his right hand he jumped up onto the bed. Before the sleeping boy could react to the assault the gag was in his mouth and quickly tied behind his head. He struggled to stop whatever was happening, but there was nothing he could do.

Soon the bedcovers were pulled off him as were his sleeping shorts.

“Jeremy!” Will tried to scream through the gag.

“Shut up, I told you I wanted your ass and now I’m taking it,” Jeremy whispered.

“NO!” Will tried again to scream to no avail and then he felt Jeremy’s cock at his hole.

Suddenly the overhead light flashed on.

“Jeremy! Get off Will,” Artie yelled.

“No, he’s mine!” Jeremy cried. “I want him.”

“Not anytime soon,” Artie yelled as he pulled Jeremy off Will’s back. With strength he hadn’t used in years he threw the young boy across the room until he crashed against the closet door. “Will put yourself together and call 9-1-1.”

* * * *

“Well, my little boy prostitute, how was your week?” Dr. Finklemann asked. He was wearing a pink button-down, a red tie, and gray slacks.

“Last Saturday I was almost forced to have sex with Jeremy, I had to let my foster parent’s grandson fuck me, and Jeremy tried to rape me in the middle of the night,” Will said without emotion. He was lying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He chose this piece of furniture of his own volition and was surprised that Dr. Finklemann didn’t ask him to move to another place to sit.

“Ah, yes, the prostitute and his nemesis. How is it the child wanted to have sex with you?”

“He contacted Jeremy when he found out I was coming to his house and he offered me a choice. I couldn’t suck his cock, so he fucked me.”

“You could have said no.”

“He said he would run home and say that I tried to rape him if I didn’t do as he said.”

“Ah, yes, a snotty little boy threatening the bigger boy with an accusation of rape. Sounds like a smartass to me. Did he have a good cock?”

“Huh, what do you mean?”

“What was his cock like compared any other that you have had in your little boy prostitute ass?”

“He is only fourteen and not mature. His length and breadth made for an easy fuck.”

“Spoken by an expert in providing sexual pleasure to your fellow man. I commend you on your choice.”

“I told Syl and Artie what he told me and what I did.”

“Very good, I commend you on your ability to report an action that was unfavorable to you. What was their response?”

“I don’t know.”

“That is a shame. Do you fault them for not reporting the incident to the boy’s parents?”

“I don’t know if they did or didn’t. They might have when I wasn’t there.”

“Yes, as well they might. What of this rape that you mentioned? What did Jeremy do to you?”

“He snuck into the house, came up to my room, gagged me, and tried to rape me. Artie, he’s my foster dad …”

“I know who Artie is. What did Artie do?”

“He caught Jeremy before he was able to initiate the act and I called the police. He was arrested.”

“Ah, yes, and what happened to him?”

“The police took him away. He was arraigned on charges on home invasion and attempted rape. His dad bailed him out, but since they live next door, Jeremy was sent down to Long Island to live with an aunt.”

“That is a shame. Jeremy has been such a responsible young man for a long time. Do you still have feelings for this boy?’

“Well, of course, we pledge our love when I first started coming to see Syl and Artie. I’ll stand by him no matter what happens.”

“Very commendable, my little boy prostitute, but that does not answer the question does it?”

“What question?”

“Why do you like being fucked? You’re barely fifteen-years-old and still you want an adult erection sliding in and out of your anus. Please, my dear little boy prostitute, describe Jeremy’s boy cock? He is your age after all, is his cock like yours or is it smaller or bigger?”

Will lay there staring at the ceiling and wondering what he was going to say. Dr. Finklemann could be so specific in his questions that sometimes it was hard to know what the old man wanted.

“Come on, my little boy prostitute, do you like Jeremy’s little boy erection sliding in and out of your anus?”

“Jeremy’s cock is about eight inches long and it’s kind of thick, not too thick that it would stretch me too much, but thick enough to give me lots of pleasure. He likes to go deep and give me short thrusts so that the sensations I experience are deep inside and across my opening.”

“I see, that is quite a description. In other words, my dear little boy prostitute, you like it when Jeremy has intercourse with you. Is that correct?”

Will thought about that for a moment not really knowing what to answer because Dr. Finklemann could turn his answers around so much that even he wasn’t certain his answers were exactly what he wanted to say.

“Come on, my dear little boy prostitute, do you like it when Jeremy fucks you?”

“Yes,” Will whispered, finally admitting the truth.

“Yes! My little boy prostitute likes being fucked with big adult cocks. Would you like me to fuck your tight little boy prostitute ass? I don’t have as big a cock as Jeremy’s, but it is still sizable and could give you lots of pleasure. Tell me, my little boy prostitute, do you want your psychologist to fuck your tight little boy prostitute ass?”

Will was aghast that Dr. Finklemann could suggest such a thing. Well, of course, he’d like a cock to fuck him as he hadn’t been fucked since that first week with the Jenkins when Jeremy practically fucked him every day. How was he to answer such a question?

“Come on, my little boy prostitute, I’ll give you a hundred dollars to have your ass. Is that what my little boy prostitute charges to give up his little boy prostitute ass? Do you want me to fuck you, my little boy prostitute?”

“No,” Will whispered.

“Very good, my little boy prostitute has his limits. No sex with the therapist. Very good, we have made progress. Now, my little boy prostitute, we must decide where we shall go from here. Who else’s adult cock don’t you want fucking your little boy ass? How about your foster father, Dr. Arthur Jenkins, will you allow him to push his adult cock up into your little boy bowels?”

“No,” Will whispered.

“Ah, hah! Very good, my little boy prostitute, one more adult on your no touch list, but tell my, my little boy prostitute, if he should ask would you be willing to fellate him? Would you, in your crude language of prostitute talk, suck his cock if he asked?”

“No!” Will said.

“Even if it meant you might be sent back to that so called treatment place called Green Meadows?

“Huh?”

“You heard me, my little boy prostitute, if he threatened you with expulsion from his home, would you suck his adult cock to remain in his home?”

Will lay there staring at the blank ceiling wondering about that question. Would he be willing to suck Artie if the old man threatened to send him back to Green Meadows if he didn’t do it? He knew what Dr. Finklemann wanted, but was he willing to admit it? After all he had been through, could he say no when no was not the easy answer?

“Come on, my little boy prostitute, what is your answer? It is an easy question. Are you mature enough to say no, even if you do not know the result of your answer?”

“Before, when I was younger, and needed heroin to live, I would’ve said that I would suck his cock just to get the hit that would come after; but now, everything has changed. I think, oh god this is hard, but I think I would tell him no and accept the consequences, no matter what they were; even if it meant being sent back to Green Meadows and not having the chance for another foster placement.”

“Ah, hah! The little boy prostitute has broken through the barrier and chosen the correct choice. Congratulations, Will, you have achieved another level in your inevitable course towards reaching some degree of normalcy in this crazy world. Now, all we have to do is figure out some way for you to assert yourself at times when that is proper, but, alas, my dear little boy prostitute I think you still yearn for a big cock in your butt, am I not correct?”

Will stared at a small crack in the plaster ceiling thinking about that question. Did he still want that for his preferred source of sexual pleasure? Was he truly a bottom at heart? No, he still enjoyed fucking another boy, so maybe he was versatile, leaning toward a bottom. Yes, he still wanted to feel that wholesome feeling of a long, thick cock shoved up his ass.

“Yes, I prefer being fucked,” Will said.

“Very good, by little boy prostitute, and with that we shall move forward,” Dr. Finklemann said. “You have made great progress today, but we still have a long way to go. Next week, when you see me, I want you to tell me about your school life; especially if you find another boy to have a relationship with. Run along, my little boy prostitute.”

* * * *

In the cafeteria on Monday, Will walked away from the food line with his tray and surveyed the available seats, most of which were already taken. He saw Mariah and other goth girls at one table, but didn’t go there simply for the lack of boys. Halfway across the room, the gays were all sitting at their table. There were two seats empty, Jeremy’s usual one and the one where he sat, but he didn’t think they wanted him there anymore after what happened. Over in the corner, the floor sitters had that space fairly well fully staked out. Then there was the table no one sat at because they were unattached to any available clique. Today there was only one boy sitting at the table who Will didn’t recognize so he went over and stood by one of the seats.

“Mind if I sit here?” Will asked.

“Sit where you want, I don’t own any of them,” the boy said. He appeared to have a slight build with brown hair that had been shorn into a crew cut. His blue eyes intrigued Will, but the smattering of acne across his forehead and cheeks was off-putting.

Will sat down and began to suck on his straw. He had chosen the pepperoni pizza, green salad—which in reality was just some shredded lettuce with a bit of shredded cheese—and an apple compote, but in his case it had all been whirled up in a blender, thinned with some water, and served in a glass.

“Hi, I’m Will,” he said.

“Tris.”

“That’s a strange name,” Will said honestly.

“It’s short for Tristan; I’m named after my granduncle on my father’s side. He died in Nam when he was trying to save some buddies who were pinned down by a machine gun. Took a couple slugs through his neck. Nearly decapitated him. You’re Dubya.”

“Huh?”

“The boy with three dubyas in your name. Jeremy’s boyfriend. The boy who tried to get in with Mariah and the goths, but didn’t. You got your jaw broken when Brent kneed you in the locker room. Word on the street is you like to take it up the ass. I suppose you might give blowjobs if your mouth wasn’t wired shut.”

“You seem to know a lot of things; is that your hobby?”

“You might say that.”

The boys continued their lunches in silence. Will didn’t know what to make of Tris. Of course, he hadn’t admitted it; Will suspected the other boy knew a lot more about him. He just couldn’t figure out why he was sitting here all alone when there were any number of groups of kids he must fit into, but that was the nature of cliques. Maybe, it was the fact the Tris tried to inveigle himself into the relationships of others in such a way that they didn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe, he had worn out his welcome with the more accepting groups and didn’t want to get involved with those that might be more restrictive in their membership. Whatever the case, Will felt safe in the boy’s presence even though he seemed to know his deepest secrets.

When Will finished with his puree du jour he looked over at Tris who unexpectedly looked up and their eyes met. Will felt something inside him that he hadn’t felt before. He looked down at his glass, but inexplicably looked up and once again his eyes were drawn into the gaze of Tris. He wanted to look away, but the other boy wouldn’t relent.

“How about if I meet you at the old oak on the south lawn after school, we can go over to my house and maybe talk,” Tris said.

“I’ll have to check-in with my foster mother,” Will said, unsure what he was getting into.

“You do that; we’ll have fun at my house,” Tris said. “What time do you think you’ll have to be home?”

“No later than five.”

“Well, that gives us a few hours to get to know each other. If I don’t see you at the tree, I assume either you’re a chicken shit or you didn’t get permission, either way you can assume our potential as friends won’t materialize into anything. See you.”

With that Tris stood up, picked up his tray, and walked away. Will remained not knowing what to do. Tris did sound like a likeable boy, but there was that trove of information he seemed to have collected somewhere. Could he be dangerous? Would he want sexual favors in lieu of releasing derogatory information to the other students at the school? More importantly, Will wondered if Tris might want to have sex with him. He did say that he knew Will was Jeremy’s boyfriend. Was that enough to force Will do to something he might not want to do?

“Hey, are you okay?” a voice said at Will’s right shoulder. He looked over and saw an older boy he didn’t recognize.

“Yeah, sure, why shouldn’t I be?” Will said as he stood up to take his tray over to the conveyor.

“I saw you talking to Tris Montgomery and I just wanted to say to watch out and be careful around him.”

“Who are you?” Will asked as he slowly turned to go.

The boy fell in beside him carrying his own tray and said, “Let’s just say I’m someone who cares and Tris might not be the kind of boy you want to get involved with.”

“And, what kind of boy would I want to get to know?”

“Look, I’m just saying be careful.”

“If that’s all you can say then I guess I’ll have to find out if Tris is as horrible as you imply.”

The boy hurried up a little and was at the conveyor before Will who watched him dispose of his paper goods and place the tray on the plastic belt. He wondered why the boy hadn’t introduced himself. Maybe if he had done that Will might have taken his words to heart. He went out into the hall and pulled out his cell. He dialed Syl’s number and waited, listening to the ringtones. Finally, Syl picked up.

“Hello?”

“Syl, this is Will.”

“What’s up son? Are you okay?”

“Oh, sure, I’m fine; say, I met a boy and he invited me over to his house after school. Can I go?”

“Who is this boy?”

“His name is Tristan Montgomery.”

“Uh, huh, little Tris Montgomery; so, he’s back in town, huh. Well, Will I’m not going to say no because Tris never did anything to us, but there are those in town who would cross the street so they didn’t have to walk on the same sidewalk as Tris.”

“What’d he do?”

“That’s not for me to say. If you decide to go with him, all I will say is be careful.”

“Okay, I guess. I told him I have to be home by five, okay?”

“That’s fine, Will. See you then.”

After she hung up, Will put his phone in his pocket and went to his locker. He was standing there sorting through the things he’d need for the next two periods when someone shoved so hard he was almost pushed all the way inside the opening.

“Stay away from Montgomery, faggot,” a voice said.

Will pulled himself out of the locker and looked around, but couldn’t see any possible suspects except for a couple boys that might be football players. He sighed and went back to what he had been doing. The first bell rang, so he gathered his stuff, shut the door, and started toward his next class.

After school, Will walked out front door and saw Tris standing between two older students. It didn’t look like they were having a nice friendly chat. Knowing he was putting himself in danger, he walked up and stood about six feet away. One of the older boys turned and stared at Will.

“I already told you to leave Montgomery alone,” the boy said.

“Why?” Will asked innocently.

“Because he’s a crook, that’s why.”

“So, you’re saying I’m not permitted to associate with criminals in Warnton. Do you have a list so I know who I’m not supposed to talk to?”

“Don’t get smart with me, faggot. I could just as well beat the crap out of you as take care of Montgomery here. Now, leave!”

“No!”

Students were beginning to gather around as students always do when they suspect violence of some sort is about to be committed. It was obvious the older boys hadn’t, as of yet, done anything physical to Tris, and as the crowd grew it seemed they were losing their nerve.

“Come on, Jimmy, let’s get out of here,” the other boy said.

“I’m not through, yet.”

“Jimmy Connor, what’s going on here?” a voice asked as it made its way to the confrontation.

“Nothing, nothing’s happening Coach,” Jimmy said.

Unexpectedly, a burly man, maybe in his late forties or early fifties, came through the students and stood beside Will. He said, “How are you doing, Will?”

“Good, Coach Trent,” he said.

“Tris, are you okay?”

“Yes, Coach.”

“So that leaves the two bullies. Jimmy, Greg, if I hear about either of these two freshmen meeting an unfortunate physical occurrence that results in blood or bruising, I will be coming to look for you. From now until the end of the school year you are hereby appointed Tristan and William’s protectors, which simply means if either of these boys suffers suspicious physical injury, I’m holding you responsible and that just may include not playing next year when the college scouts are going to be looking for big boys to beef up the front lines. Do you two understand what I said?”

“Yes, Coach,” Greg said.

“You mean if, say, some other person might take offense to either Tris’s criminal past or the faggot’s …”

“What did you just say?” the coach asked.

“Oh, sorry, uh, I’ll do whatever you say,” Jimmy said.

“Good, now get out of here.”

The two big guys picked up their stuff and walked away. Will didn’t really know what to do, now.

“Okay, you two, if those two bother you in any way or if they’re with another boy and don’t do anything to stop some form of physical injury, you tell me and I will take care of it. Okay?”

“Sure, Coach,” both boys said almost in unison.

“Good, see you around.”

The coach walked off and as the surrounding mob of students slowly dispersed, Will looked at Tris and said, “That came out fairly well.”

“Don’t count on him doing anything or either of those two boneheads doing anything to stop others kids from trying to beat us up,” Tris said. “It goes with the territory. The weak ones catch the shit. Do you still want to come home with me?”

“Sure, but remember I have to leave in enough time to be home by five,” Will said as he fell in beside the other boy as they headed to the sidewalk.

“Shouldn’t be a prob since I live only a couple blocks from you.”

“How do you know where I live?”

“Just do; don’t worry about it, I know a lot of things about people in this town.”

“Can I ask what wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“But people are always telling me to stay away from you or to be careful in your presence. We all got our problems, including me, so I was just wondering if we need to stop this relationship right now before I get hurt.”

“Look, when I was twelve, almost thirteen, I was hanging around a couple older boys and I was with them when one stole a car and then they robbed the c-store down in Lyons. I was just riding in the backseat of the car and when the police were finally able to force us off the road, I ended up getting blamed for the whole thing. I was only twelve and Desmond was seventeen and Rico was eighteen. Their lawyers pleaded them out on lesser charges and I almost had to take the whole rap.”

Will could hear Tris weeping and put his arm across the other boy’s shoulders. They stood under a maple for a while until Tris calmed down.

“But, when I was brought into the courtroom the judge told the prosecutor to go back to rethink the charges he was throwing at me and how was it that a mere twelve-year-old boy could be charged with car theft when I wasn’t even tall enough to reach the pedals and see over the dashboard at the same time. My first public defender was a real scuzzball and she was replaced by the judge because he felt she wasn’t doing anything in my best interest. In the end, I got two years in Industry and supervised probation until I’m twenty-one.”

“Wow, and I thought my life was screwed up. What’s industry?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re not from around here; it’s a juvie prison over by Rochester.”

“Are juvies like regular prisons? You know, guys getting screwed and shit like that?”

“Yeah, I’ve been raped. It’s not something you want to happen to you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You been raped?”

“Yeah …”

They continued to walk to Tris’s house, which turned out to be a single-story, with a full basement. Tris used his key to open the front door and he held it for Will. Inside there was a long hall that appeared to go straight through to the back. There were rooms off the hall as they made their way back. They came to a door, which Tris opened to reveal a carpeted stairway. Will went first and at the bottom there was a large room that must have been the family room. There was a widescreen TV on one wall and an overstuffed sofa on the opposite wall.

“I got vids ’cause I’m not allowed to play video games that might be violent, so my dad just said I couldn’t have any. What do you want to watch? Mostly I got South Park. How about we start with season one?”

“Sure, whatever you say.”

“You seen much of South Park?”

“No, it wasn’t permitted at Green Meadows because it was mostly adult content and the kids there were having enough trouble with mental issues staff felt seeing that might not be in the best interests of the kids.”

“Oh, you’re the boy from Green Meadows. The boy who was forced to be a prostitute when he was little.”

“How did you find that out?”

“It’s been around.”

“I gotta go,” Will said as he stood up and picked up his bookbag.

“Wait, don’t, please.”

“You can’t imagine …” Will started and sat back down on the sofa and began to weep.

Tris settled next to the sad boy, but whatever comfort he was trying to offer went unnoticed. He finally said, “We’re the pair, aren’t we? I get in trouble with the law just because I thought it was cool to hang out with a couple of losers who barely tolerated my presence and you grow up in the possession of a pedo who forces you to have sex with other men who get off fucking little boys.”

“How do you know so much about me?” Will asks.

“I just do, okay? Just leave it at that. I know things that go on in this town. For your own safety just don’t ask.”

“Are you going to hold it against me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, maybe you’ll want a blowjob or a fuck and threaten revealing all that you know about me.”

“Hey, come on, Will, I’m not that kind of guy. Look, why don’t we watch an early episode, I think you’ll like it.”

Tris sent up the video and both boys sat there on the sofa with Tris a lot closer to Will than he expected. He really didn’t mind it because he didn’t feel threatened by Tris’s presence. In many ways, he thought this was what normal kids might do. Could Tris become a friend?

Towards the end of the vid the little kid in the red hoodie died in the most horrible way and one of the characters said, “Oh my God, they killed Kenny. You bastards!”

Tris broke out in nearly uncontrollable laughter. Will looked at him and wondered how he could be laughing at such a horrible scene. He asked, “What are you laughing at?”

“You don’t know, do you? Kenny always dies!”

“That’s horrible!”

“No, it’s a running gag. Cute little Kenny always dies! Don’t you get it?”

“No!”

“Come on, Will, loosen up. It’s just a cartoon. It’s not real.”

“Maybe I better go home now,” Will said. He stood up and picked up his bookbag. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

“Will, why are you mad at me?” Tris asked.

“I’m not mad, I just don’t like little kids dying even if it’s pretend.”

“Well, I have other DVDs, so we’ll watch something different next time. Will you come over tomorrow?”

“Sure, see you at the tree.”

Will followed Tris up the stairs and paused at the front door. If the boy was Jeremy they would kiss in parting, but normal boys didn’t kiss.

“I’m glad you came over,” Tris said.

“I’ll be back, promise.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Oh, Tris, why?”

“Because I want to; please?”

Their lips met for just a moment; at most it was nearly chaste, but Will suspected it was more than that. Although he was unwilling to admit it now, he thought Tris might be gay or at least on the gay side of bi. He knew there were going to be more kisses and they were going to be deeper with more sexual feeling and then Tris’s hands would get involved. After that? Well, there always something more after that. Will walked out the door and honestly wondered if he would keep his promise and come back tomorrow.

* * * *

On Tuesday after Will walked away from the selection line in the cafeteria with his carton of milk and blended meal of meat loaf, mashed potatoes, and peas, he walked over to the table where Tris had sat yesterday, but was startled to see all the seats were full. Tris was there and the two bullies, Jimmy and Greg, but all the other seats had been taken, too. And, by the look of the guys, with all their muscles, they must be on the football team, too.

As Will looked around the cafeteria for somewhere to sit, Greg asked, “Hey, kid, what’s your name?”

“Will.”

“Donny, you need to move, you’re in Will’s seat,” Greg said.

“Yeah, you better find somewhere else to sit,” Jimmy said.

“And, if I don’t want to move?” Donny asked.

“Then I’m just going to have to move you,” Jimmy said.

“Okay, Jimmy, but I’ll remember this; you hear that Will?” Donny said as he got up and looked around for a new place to sit.

“Donny, are you threatening Will?” Jimmy asked.

“So what if I am? What’s it to you?”

“I was given a job by Coach to look out for this kid, so if you so much as bump into him in the halls, I might have to rearrange your face.”

“Like I’m afraid of you.”

“You can count on Jimmy having backup,” Greg said.

“Come on, sit down Will,” Greg said after Donny got up and walked away. “Let me introduce you around the table. On my left is Billy and Harry; on your right is Andy and Julian; and on the other side of Jimmy is Sven. The hunk of muscle sitting next to Tris is none other than next year’s varsity center, Ben.”

“You’re packing a lot of muscle, Will, you play football?” Julian asked.

“Well, kinda, not really, they only had intramural football where I was at and mostly the bigger guys played. The medicine I take packs on a lot of weight and I have to work out to keep it from turning into flab. Since my jaw was broken I haven’t done a lot of that.”

“Sorry ’bout that; Brent’s always been an asshole,” Andy said. “By your build you’d probably work out in either the offensive or defensive backfield. How about if I introduce you to one or two of the guys that play those positions and get you working on some basic moves?”

“Hey, that’d be great,” Will said. He looked over at Tris, but the boy was concentrating on his tray; or, was he trying very hard at ignoring all the beef at the table? “Hey, Tris how’s it going? We still on for this afternoon?”

Tris looked up and slightly shook his head. Will didn’t know what that meant.

“If both of you are going over to Tris’s house, I can give you a ride in my car,” Greg said.

“Humph!” Jimmy grunted.

“Oh, stuff it, you homophobic bastard,” Greg said.

“Yeah, Jimmy, what’s with you?” Julian asked.

“Look, I’ll watch these two at school and make certain nobody hassles them, but I draw the line at ferrying them back and forth to school,” Jimmy said.

“Well, then maybe one of us needs to talk to Coach and see about getting your assignment changed,” Ben said. “Maybe, you’re just not up to babysitting freshmen.”

“You know he won’t agree to that; I’m stuck with this job,” Jimmy said.

“That’s alright, I can handle the carpool,” Greg said. “Where do you live, Will?”

“On Gravenstein, 206 West. It’s a two-story Victorian.”

“Yeah, I know where that house is, it’s right next door to where Dr. Fleischer lives,” Ben said.

“How do you know where that Jew professor lives?” Jimmy asked.

“Well, mister homophobic anti-Semitic bastard, it just so happens I’m Jewish, too.”

“Hey, don’t go throwing that anti-Semitic crap on me, I’m not like Brent.”

“Wasn’t Dr. Fleisher’s son arrested a week ago?” Billy asked.

“Yeah; didn’t that have to do with the Jenkins’ house next door?” Harry asked.

“So, Will, what’s the story with Jeremy Fleisher?” Jimmy asked.

“He broke in at night when we were all in bed asleep and Artie caught him,” Will said.

“Wasn’t there something about attempted sexual assault?” Harry asked. “Did he try to attack Mrs. Jenkins?”

“Uh, no, it was someone else he was after,” Will said.

“Oh, okay,” Harry said.

Will let out a silent sigh of relief that the questioning hadn’t gotten down to who exactly was the intended victim. He suspected Tris knew in the way he seemed to know everything about everybody in Warnton, but he let that lie, too.

“How about it Tris, do you want me to come over?” Will asked. “We can walk if you don’t want to ride with Greg.”

“I’m okay with Greg,” Tris whispered.

“Great! I’ll see you two at the east entrance to the main building and I’ll give you a ride home,” Greg said.

With that everybody went about finishing their lunches and concentrating on the rest of the day. Will still didn’t know why Tris was reluctant for him to go over to his house, but at least it was close enough to his so he could go on home if Tris really didn’t want him there.

After school, Tris and Will rode with Greg in his blue Impreza coupe. Being that Tris was smaller than Will, he should have been relegated to the back seat, but he yelled “shotgun!” and held the seat for Will to climb in the back. Although he didn’t have to, Tris was nice enough to pull up his seat so Will didn’t feel too scrunched by the seat in front of him. It was a silent ride as for some unknown reason the younger boys weren’t talking to each other and Greg didn’t seem in the mood to converse either until he asked, “I have a pretty good idea where you live Tris, but exactly where am I going?”

“412 Golden Lane,” Tris said.

“Oh, okay, I know where that is, Janelle, my girl, lives at 503.”

“I know.”

“What do you mean, you know? What do you do in your spare time spy on other people?”

“No, her older brother, Desmond, was one of the other boys I got in trouble with.”

“No, shit?”

“Yeah, so I kind of play it cool around the neighborhood. My dad said Desmond’s come back to see his parents a couple times, but since I just got out of Industry, I don’t want to get involved with him again.”

“Good idea,” said Greg. “Des is a real scumbag if you ask me.”

The conversation dropped off with that and all three boys were silent until Greg turned onto Golden Lane and pulled up in front of Tris’s house.

“Okay, Tris, I’ll be here tomorrow morning at seven,” Greg said. “Will, where do you live, again?”

“206 Gravenstein West.”

“Okay, be outside your house no later than six-fifty. I maybe a little late, but I don’t want to have to wait for you. Okay, you two, see you tomorrow.”

“Sure, thanks, Greg,” Tris said as he got out of the car.

“Greg, I want you to know how much I appreciate this,” Will said as he climbed out.

“That’s okay; you sure you’re up to being a football player?” Greg asked.

“Whatever it takes.”

“Great Will, from now on we’re going to be friends, got that?”

“Sure, Greg, whatever you say.”

Will followed Tris into the house and down to the family room. He dropped his bookbag and settled into the sofa while watching Tris work his way through the DVD library. After a short while he drew one out and held it up so Will could see the cover.

“Hey, isn’t that that South Park thing?” Will asked.

“Yeah, but there’s an episode on here where Kenny doesn’t die,” Tris said.

“Well, okay if you promise.”

“And hope to die a horrible, bloody death.”

“You don’t have to go that far to convince me. Hurry up and put it on.”

Tris setup the video and came over to the sofa where he sat very close to Will who looked over at him, but Tris simply smiled. Will turned his attention back to the TV, but was surprised to see not a South Park episode. It was a regular video of two young men; one couldn’t have been much over eighteen. To Will’s eyes the boy might even be not older than sixteen.

The conversation between the characters didn’t seem to be very intelligent or to be going in any specific direction. Then the older one put his hand over the other boy’s crotch. The other boy didn’t move, as if scared as to what might happen. Then the older boy held the young one’s chin as he brought his lips to the younger boy’s mouth. The kiss was firm and full of passion.

“What is this?” Will asked.

“My dad’s bisexual and this is one of his porn flicks,” Tris said. “I thought you might like it.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re gay.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I do. It’s no secret you’re Jeremy Fleischer’s boyfriend and it’s no secret that it was you he was sexually assaulting when he got arrested. Dad said it was okay for me to watch these things whenever I want, so do you want to continue watching this or do you want to up to my bedroom where we can make our own porn flick? I’d kind of like to find out how it feels to fuck a guy. How about it?”

Once again Will was confronted with the threat of make a friend or make a fuck buddy. Why couldn’t Tris just be a friend? Why did it always end in having to have sex with the other guy? He looked at the TV and saw that the younger looking man really did look like a teen whereas the other was definitely all man. The younger one was sucking the older one’s large and long cock, which Will knew was soon going to be buried in the other’s ass. Whether they used condoms was immaterial.

“Well, what do you want?” Tris asked.

Will suddenly became aware of Tris’s hand on his jeans directly over his cock, which was growing in response to the attention. He tried to concentrate on the video, but the older one was beginning to undress the younger one, which told him they were going to be fucking soon. Did he want to stay and watch?

“Come on Will my little brother is going to be home from school soon,” Tris said. “Let’s go up to my room and get it on. What do you say?”

“I wish I could blow you instead,” Will said.

“But you can’t, can you?”

“No.”

“Come on, let’s go,” Tris said as he stood up. He went over the turned off the DVD.

Will stood up and picked up his bookbag. He walked over to the stairs and turned to wait for Tris. All emotion was draining from his awareness.

“I wish I didn’t have to do this,” Will said.

“But you do, so let’s get going,” Tris said.

Up in Tris’s bedroom Will began to undress.

“No, don’t take your clothes off,” Tris said.

Will looked at him not understanding the request.

“Every time I was raped I just had my pants pulled down; I want to do it like that,” Tris said.

“Are you going to use a condom and lube?” Will asked.

“Since I always had it without and know what that feels like, I won’t put you through that experience, even though I think you’ve been there from when you lived with that pedo.”

“Where do you want me?” Will asked as an unexpected tear dribbled down his right cheek.

“Oh, cool, you’re crying. You don’t know how sexually exciting that is. You know, I was only eight days past my thirteenth birthday when a seventeen-year-old punk slammed my ass and he didn’t use a condom or any lube. Go on and stand over by my desk; I’ll take care of everything else.”

* * * *

On Friday, instead of taking Will and Tris to Tris’s house, Greg agreed to take them downtown to Dr. Finklemann’s office because Warnton wasn’t so big that it was that far out of the way. Tris wanted to go with Will because he said if they got done in time they could go back to his house where he could get his daily fuck. The only reason Will didn’t mind doing that was that Tris’s cock wasn’t that big or long so it made for a somewhat comfortable fuck. Also, Tris would suck Will after he finished having his way with the other boy. He said he didn’t have to, but since he was no longer in prison he said he should get used to being nice to people, again.

Will left Tris in the waiting room and went into Dr. Finklemann’s office where he lay down on the couch. The good doctor brought the armchair over and sat beside Will’s head.

“So, how is my boy prostitute today?” Dr. Finklemann asked. “Did you have a good week?”

“Yeah, sort of.”

“Just sort of; what happened that made it a good week?”

“Well, I almost got beat up by a couple football players, but was rescued by the football coach and now I have some defensive players who are kind of friendly with me.”

“Did they fuck you?”

“No.”

“And, you are now friends with these older boys and you do not have to submit to them. How is it you believe these boys are willing to be nice to you and not want to fuck your loose boy prostitute ass?”

“I guess they’re just normal, like most boys. You know, not gay.”

“Yes! My boy prostitute has seen the light. Congratulations, my dear boy prostitute, you have made progress. But, you also intimated there might be something negative from this week. Pray tell, what is that?”

“I met a boy my age.”

“He fucks you, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Does he force you?”

“Sort of.”

“Sort of how?”

“I’m not sure what would happen if I stopped letting him fuck me. He’s a nice guy and I would like him as a friend, but I really don’t like it when he fucks me. We do something he calls role-playing.”

“Ah, and what is the title of this game he plays?”

“It doesn’t really have a name. He was recently released from a juvenile prison and I guess he was raped a few times there. He fucks me to reverse his memories of those events.”

Will started to weep and after a few minutes picked up his box of tissues. He grabbed a few and daubed his eyes.

“You are sad. That is not good. Do you feel you have failed in your attempt to be this rapist’s friend instead of his victim?”

“Yes.”

“Now, my boy prostitute, do you get sexual satisfaction from when your rapist friend fucks you? Do you have an orgasm as his boy cock in sliding in and out of your prostitute anus?”

“No, not while he’s doing it. His cock isn’t very big.”

“Ah, that is a shame, but later, yes?”

“He blows me afterward.”

“Your rapist fellates you; that’s amazing my dear boy prostitute. Anything else your felonious rapist does to you, my innocent boy prostitute?”

“He makes me watch either episodes of South Park or his dad’s gay porn videos.”

“You do not like South Park?”

“No, Kenny always dies.”

“Not always, just some of the time. Maybe he’s only showing you episodes in which Kenny dies. Does it bother you seeing the dear little mumbler in the red hoodie die a bloody death?”

“Yes,” Will whispered.

“Ah, my dear boy prostitute has feelings. That is a side of you I hadn’t expected after all of the horrors you’ve been through at the hands of your fellow man. You said you also watch gay porn. Does that sexually excite you?”

“Not really,” Will said as he tried to think of something to support that statement.

“You do not get an erection when watching other men have sex; is that what you are saying?”

“I get hard, but a lot of that is when Tris puts his hand on me.”

“Is your tormentor Tristan Montgomery?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, hah! The little devil has drawn someone new into his circle of intrigue. You must be careful of Tristan; I would advise dropping him as a friend. He can only harm you.”

“But what if he lets it out in school that I like to be fucked?”

“But you do! It is your deepest desire to have big cocks in your prostitute ass. Isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“So, I would say whatever Mr. Felon Tristan Bellamy Montgomery says about you is just good advertising. You may have a better chance of getting a boy with a big cock to put in your boy prostitute ass. Isn’t that right?”

“I guess so.”

“You guess so; no, my dear innocent boy prostitute it is so and that is why you are here. That is why we have these little sessions. If you have any hope of normality, we must strive to make you seek friendship first and sex later. You must stop giving other boys signals that you want their hard cock sliding in and out of your prostitute ass. Enough of this. I will speak with you next week. Try to make a friend who does not want your ass for his sexual satisfaction. Maybe you can find a boy who does not want any kind of insertion sex and will settle for frottage. We shall see, shan’t we? Run along Will, my dear boy prostitute.”

Will got up, gathered up his used tissues, picked up his box of tissues and bookbag, and walked out the door. He put the used tissues in the waste can and went to the counter where he made his next appointment. After putting his box of tissues in his bag he went into the waiting room, but Tris wasn’t there. He went back to the counter and asked, “There was a boy waiting for me; did he say anything before leaving?”

“No, I’m sorry, but Dr. Montgomery finished with her last patient and saw Tris waiting. They had a few words and left.”

“Oh ….”

“Are you alright? Should I call Dr. Finklemann?”

“Um, I don’t know. His mother works here?”

“Yes, she’s the associate psychiatrist.”

Unbeknownst to Will, Dr. Finklemann had come out of his office to escort his next patient in and he came up to Will.

“Is there something wrong, William?” Dr. Finklemann asked.

“Tris’s mother works here,” Will said.

“Yes.”

“Then she knows me,” Will whined.

“Calm down, William, come let’s go back in the office for a few minutes,” Dr. Finklemann said. “Mrs. Ferguson, I’ll be with you in a bit; this boy is in crisis at the moment.”

Will followed the doctor into the office and looked around at where to sit. He looked at the doctor, but didn’t get a clue, so he just stood there waiting for instruction.

“Come, William, sit in the chair here by the desk. Do you want me to call your foster mother for a ride home?”

“Uh, he’ll tell her who I am and what he’s been doing to me,” Will said. “Don’t you see? He’ll tell everyone.”

“No, William, he won’t; Tris is not that kind of boy.”

Will didn’t believe the doctor and just watched as he called Syl and arranged for her to come down and pick him up. He was thankful for that, not having to walk through town with everyone staring at the boy prostitute who was willing to be your friend if you had a big cock. He thought of the peace Green Meadows offered and wondered if there was some way he could get back to that calm place. Now, everything had spiraled out of control and he didn’t know what to do.

“William?”

“Huh?”

“Mrs. Jenkins is coming down to the office to pick you up, you can leave now.”

“Dr. Finklemann, why were you using my name instead of calling me a boy prostitute?”

“Because we are not in session, William.”

“Oh, okay, I guess.”

“You will understand in time; don’t let it bother you.”

“Sure, see you next week.”

“Goodbye, William.”

“Goodbye, Dr. Finklemann.”