Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Taking Timmy's Tiny Tookus

   bb, tb ws, scat, oral, anal, lac, incest, nonc

   By Antonio Green antoniogreen@writeme.com

   This story will contain scenes of sex between boys and a boy and his
infant (then toddler) brother including watersports and scat scenes.  It
also will contain recollections of forced incest and boy prostitution.  But
the basis of the story is love -- love between brothers and love between
boys.

   This chapter delves deeper into the pain and suffering Brian has had to
endure -- and reveals the brutal incident that allows the red-headed 13
year old to "come home.".

   If any of this offends you, do not read this story.  If this is illegal
where you live, do not read this story.  If you are underage, do not read
this story (come back when you're old enough).  But if you'd like to read a
well-written story by a professional writer, enjoy.

   And please do not print this story on a public computer and leave it in
the printer (as was done with Chapter 1).

   Chapter 9: Coming Home

   From Chapter 8:

   "Those are Brian's sperms, Mama," Danny explained unnecessarily.  "We
got them from inside me.  If I was a girl, he'd have made a baby in me. 
Aren't they awesome, Mama?"

   She kissed his damp hair.  Yes, urine, definitely urine.  Then she
kissed her newest son's damp hair.  Same.

   Danny's bed -- no both boys' bed -- was a mess, covers tossed wildly
around.  And it was soaked.  It was a good thing Danny had a mattress liner
for the times he still wet the bed.  But the wetness was not from just one
boy.  And it was not from one time.  The sheets were soaked.

   Debra kissed Brian one more time and looked more closely at his naked
body.  His nickle-sized aureoles were slightly puffy, red-brown with
prominent nipples.  He looked almost like a preteen girl about to enter
puberty.  His penis, so hard for so long and almost angry looking the day
before was now finally soft, a beautiful two-inch thin tube of adolescent
boy-flesh with a half-inch or so foreskin.

   "Beautiful penis?" Debra pondered silently.  "I'd never thought of a
penis as beautiful.  But here I'm looking at both of these boy's boy parts
and they are beautiful.  So beautiful, just like the boys are."

   "You two reek," she said aloud.  "When you're done here, you both have
to shower.  And Danny, can you strip the bed of all the bed clothes and
take them to the washer.  It looks like you had a good time, but we have to
clean up after ourselves, don't we?"

   "Yes, Mama," Brian answered for them both.  "Mama, you know what?"

   "What sweety?"

   "I kind of wish I could give Danny a baby.  Not now of course.  But
sometime."

   Now on to Chapter 9

   One shower -- two boys worn out by passion, love, and almost continuous
sex.  One boy, small, pale skinned, blond haired, squatting in the shower
and farting out the small remnants of his lovers cum into his hand.  Two
boys licking up the brown, shit streaked pearlescent remains of their last
coupling.

   One shower -- two boys, gently soaping and cleaning the deepest parts of
each others body.  Two boys embracing gently as water courses down their
bodies.  Two soft, worn out penises touching wet skin, wet love, wet desire
to always be together.  Two boys afraid that what they prayed would never
end might end too soon, forever.

   Breakfast -- two boys naked in near silence.  Mama serving pancakes,
bacon, juice, and love to two somber boys.

   Pushing his chair away from the table, Brian accidentally let out a huge
belch followed immediately by as loud and long a fart.  The smell was
horrendous.  Danny laughed uproariously; Brian flushed from embarrassment.

   "Sorry, Mama," he said, rising.  "But breakfast was so awesome.  I
couldn't help it." He hugged Danny's Mama, now his Mama, never wanting to
let go.

   Half and hour later, Danny and Brian were packed side by side in the
rear seat of the Peters' car, tiny Timmy in his car seat next to them. 
They whispered between themselves so Mama couldn't hear.

   "You been farting so much, Brian.  And they all stink bad!  You still
got Super Turd in you, don't you?"

   "Yep.  It's gonna be fun with those guys.  They're nice to me but we get
real messy."

   "Like you and me?" Danny asked with a twinge of jealousy.

   "Messier.  But not the same.  They just like it dirty.  There's no love
like we got."

   "How messy?"

   "Well, let's just say I won't be hungry after.  And if anyone pukes, I
gotta eat that, too.  Boogers and snot, too.  But I wish I didn't have to
do it.  I want to stay with you."

   Both boys fell silent for a few minutes.

   "What else they do?" Danny whispered.  "I mean besides messy stuff.

   "You know.  Rear end.  Mouth.  We'll all take the boner pills plus
Ecstasy.  And sometimes we take stuff so we don't fall asleep.  I'll be
real sore after.  It's okay.  I don't mind it.  Plus they give me good tips
my father don't know about."

   Twenty minutes later, the Peters' car pulled in front of Brian's
ramshackle bungalow.  Both boys were crying and holding hands.  Brian
kissed Danny gently on the lips, and opened the car door.  With a huge
sigh, he stepped out, leaned through the open front driver's window and
kissed Debra on the cheek.

   "Thank you, Mama.  I love you."

   Then he was gone.  Danny wept uncontrollably the entire way home.  Debra
knew words couldn't console her little man, so she simply let him bawl. 
Once inside the house, she hugged Danny to her breast until Danny's sobbing
calmed a bit.

   "Would you like some to help you calm down?" She asked.  Danny nodded.
It was time to feed Timmy, so she pulled her nursing camisole completely
off her shoulders, exposing both breasts.  She held Timmy to one nipple and
drew a still-crying Danny onto her other one.  Danny wrapped his lips
around Mama's deep brown nipple and suckled gently, tears rolling down his
cheeks.  Gradually, he stopped crying.  As he sat on the couch catching his
breath, Debra took a sleeping Timmy up to his crib.

   Once back in the living room, Debra drew her son tightly to her side.

   "Don't worry, Big D, Brian will come over again.  Really soon, I'm
sure."

   Danny burst into tears once more.  "I don't think he will.  I'm scared
for him," Danny sobbed.  "I don't know if I'll ever see him again."

   Debra knew there were real reasons behind the fears Danny had, but she
also wisely knew it was too early to ask Danny to elaborate.

   Danny spent the rest of Saturday moping around, missing his big, strong
red haired lover.  He missed his smile, his freckles, his farts, his piss,
his shit.  And indeed, Danny thought in those terms because now he was a
big boy, a big boy who'd been fucked so many times.

   He missed Brian's hands running all over his body, his lips touching all
parts of his skin including the most intimate of intimate parts.  He missed
Brian's tongue lapping at his rectum or probing in his mouth.  He missed
his balls, his cock.  He missed his voice saying dirty, nasty words or
saying soft, sweet things.

   But most of all, Danny Peters missed his love.

   Danny was so miserable Saturday that come night time, he could not
masturbate, although he tried.  When he played with his dink, nothing
happened.  It didn't grow from the little button nub to its 2-inch steely
hardness.  It did nothing.  And his balls, as if in sympathy with Danny's
mood, retreated far into Danny's body, leaving nothing but a tight flap of
skin where two small balls had previously been.

   Sunday was better.  Mama got Danny to laugh several times.  And he
supped at Mama's special fountains each time his little brother did.  In
the afternoon when Timmy cried to be changed, he eagerly asked Mama if he
could do it.  And this time, when he unwrapped his infant brother's penis,
it stood up hard without any stimulation on his part.  Danny expected a
spray to greet him.  None came.  Was Timmy expecting the good feelings he'd
had before?

   Danny didn't deny him those feelings.  He licked the baby clean of poo
and slipped a baby-oil greased finger through the tight, pick anus.  He
sucked and finger-fucked his brother until the infant cooed with pleasure
then jerked in his infantile orgasm.  Then the pee started.  Tons of it. 
When his brother's Feeling had passed, Danny laid his head on the round
tummy and sang softly to his brother.

   But still, his own penis refused to feel anything but alone.

   After dinner while watching TV with Mama, the urge to poo hit Danny
hard. With it came a familiar feeling in his boy-parts.  He was hard once
again.  Hard and needing Brian inside him.

   "Mama, I have to go poop," he said.  "Then I'm going to bed."

   On the way to the upstairs bathroom -- and Debra didn't question why he
chose to go upstairs instead of using the toilet next to the kitchen -- he
took a dinner candle from the linen closet on the way.  From his room he
collected a sand bucket from his toy box and the Sunday comics section of
the newspaper.

   Once inside the bathroom, he locked the door, his bathroom this time,
not his Mama's.  He stripped off every stitch of clothing and looked at the
pale-skinned, very, very skinny boy with a boner in the mirror on the back
of the door.  "Fairy," he whispered out loud.  "You are a fairy.  You're
Brian's little poopoo fairy.

   He spread the newspaper on the floor.  Knelt on it and pissed into the
bucket.  He'd been so full that when he shook off his 2-inch boner, the
bucket was half full!  He lifted the bucket and drank.  The piss was dusty
tasting and a little sandy.  But he drank a good half of the warm, strong
liquor, at least a cup.

   Finished his deep draught of piss, he squatted over the paper and
strained.  A loud, beautifully loud fart rippled his sphincter.  The smell
was pure shit and reminded him of Brian's even more fetid, nasty eruptions
of gas.  He could feel his hole opening.  God, how he wished he could see
this!

   Then plop.  Plop.  Two golf ball-sized hard turds rested beneath his
skinny buttocks.  One more good squeeze and his poop hole opened again,
this time expelling a good sized mound of much softer poo.

   Danny reached back and felt his hole.  Sticky.  Poopy.  He reached
between his legs and picked up one of the turd balls.  "This is for you,
Brian," he mumbled and pushed the poopoo ball back inside him.  Not Super
Turd, but a nice, stretchy feeling for sure.

   He picked up the other poopoo ball, kissed it, and held it up in the
air. "This is for you, too, Brian." He kissed it again, licked it all over,
then stuck it in his mouth.  Reaching to his side, sucking on the shit in
his mouth, Danny picked up the candle and shoved it roughly into his poopy,
shitty, nasty boy poopoo hole.  Had he been able to measure it, he'd have
known he'd pushed a good five inches inside him.

   Then, what he'd really wanted to do: He scooped up a wad of the softer
shit -- thank goodness he'd done that too -- and squished it on his hard,
little cocklet as Brian called his dinky dink.  It was so warm, so
slippery. He jacked himself with the poop through one glorious dry cum. 
Then he laid face down and started humping the entire pile of soft shit
while fucking himself with the candle.  Another dry cum.  And another.

   Cummed out, an incredible sense of loneliness swept over him.  He
scraped the poop from his penis and pubis, and then washed his hands
thoroughly in the toilet bowl.  He spat the now softened turd ball into the
toilet, dumped the piss from the bucket in, and pulled out the shit
streaked candle.  Now he did have to go really bad.  Immediately he sat on
the toilet and let the poop ball out followed by a short rush of soft shit.


   He gathered the messy paper and stuffed in into a large plastic bag and
knotted it as well as he could.  He showered, which was unusual for Danny
because he usually bathed, but he needed all evidence of his filthy lay
washed away.

   He checked himself thoroughly front and back.  No poop.  He checked the
room one more time.  No poop.  He opened the bathroom window a crack and
sprayed the air.  Fabreze really did work!

   Danny had trouble falling asleep that evening, excited that tomorrow
he'd see his lover once again.  Scared that maybe he wouldn't.  And lonely.
He did fall asleep, however, and didn't feel his Mama's kiss later than
evening.

   Unlike that day less than a week earlier when Danny tried to hide from
Brian in school, this time he eagerly sought him out.  He even walked among
the scary eighth graders before school asking if they'd seen him yet.

   No Brian.  Maybe, they said, he'd come in late like he did a lot,
especially on Mondays.  He wasn't there at lunch.  And at Buddy Reading
Period, his teacher told him that his partner wasn't in school so Danny
could use that period to continue reading The Hunger Games.

   Where was he?  What had happened to him?  Was he all right?  Was he
trying to avoid me?  All these thoughts roiled through Danny's mind the
rest of the day.  He couldn't concentrate.  Mrs.  Blevins even noticed and
asked him if everything was okay.  Danny just shrugged his shoulders.

   That afternoon, Danny told Mama about Brian not being there.  Debra was
a little concerned but did her best to hide it.  "Maybe he came down with a
cold," she offered.  Yeah, maybe.

   Another sad, lonely evening.  Danny finished all his homework for the
week, something he usually accomplished by Tuesday or Wednesday.  But there
wasn't any reason to watch TV or play Halo.  Maybe tomorrow.

   The next day, Danny insisted his Mama drop him off at school early. 
Danny sat on the brick wall near where the school bus dropped students off.
When the bus arrived, Danny sat up straight trying to see Brian, but he
couldn't make out the students as they stood and marched off the bus. 
Then, as the last of the children filed to the front, Brian's distinct
flash of bright red hair.  He moved slowly toward the front.

   Danny wanted to jump up and run to the bus to hug Brian when he got off,
but he was too sharp, too aware of the downside to do so.  Instead, from
his perch about twenty yards away, he watched as the last small child
exited the bus then, 30 seconds later, Brian hobbled off on a pair of
crutches.

   At that point Danny did stand and run over to his friend.

   "What happened, Brian?" Danny squeaked, near panic.

   "Aw, nothin' really, I was climbing a tree and fell offfa it.  Fucked up
my leg," Brian said loud enough for most of the kids near him to hear.  He
turned and looked at the bus driver.  "Sorry, Deanna.  I didn't mean to
swear.  You gonna write me up?"

   The driver waved him on, knowing the word had slipped out.

   Brian hobbled along with Danny beside him.  When they were far enough
away from other kids, Brian bent and whispered to his lover, "Dude, we
gotta talk later.  I'm in a bad way.  Don't know what to do.  I'm ready to,
you know..."

   He looked into Danny's eyes and knew the younger boy understood him, but
the look he saw was of shear terror.

   "Don't worry, Danny," he said.  "I'm not there yet.  I just gotta talk
to you.  You're the only one I got."

   "Mama.  You got Mama, too." Brian stopped hobbling and leaned on his
crutches.  "Yeah.  I forgot about her.  Mama.  Let's talk at Reading
Period."

   The morning trudged along for Danny.  He looked for Brian at lunch but
couldn't find him.  When he asked one of Brian's friends, the eighth grader
told him that Brian had to stay in from lunch.  He didn't have any of his
books or school materials.  The teacher should have written him up, but she
relented when one of Brian's friends told her his leg was bothering him bad
so he kind of shouldn't be punished.  Missing lunch was a good compromise.

   Danny got a message to meet his Buddy in the library.  He waited almost
ten minutes when Brian came hobbling in.  Brian looked awful.

   "Hi," Danny muttered when Brian carefully lowered himself into the chair
beside him.  He winced when barely touched the seat of the chair. 
Grimacing, he got his weight fully down.

   "Your leg really hurts, doesn't it?" Danny asked.

   "It's not my leg, little dude," Brian responded, no love, no
friendliness in his voice.  Danny flinched at his cold tone.  "I'm sorry,
Danny.  I still love you.  It's not my leg.  They really ripped me up this
time."

   "What?  Who?  Your customers?  I thought you said they were nice to
you."

   "Not them.  I had hella good time with them.  Kinda rough, but we all
had fun.  We did stuff until early Sunday morning.  When they left, I was
going to bed when my father and brother grabbed me.  It was them.  I don't
want to tell you want they did."

   Danny didn't care who saw him.  He stood up, wrapped his arms around his
young lover, and kissed him softly on the forehead.  "Please tell me."

   "They were so fucked up on meth, Danny.  They'd taken meth and the boner
pills and Ecstasy and they were like crazy.  They fucked me about four
times each.  My pussy was already really sore from all the stuff I'd done
before.  But they just kept tearing in to me.  The last times my asshole
father couldn't even squirt but he got a violent cum and really smashed
into me.

   "Then they decided to use other stuff.  And I don't mean dildos.  They
got a baseball bat in me.  A real one.  I was screaming and there was blood
all over it.  More meth.  More E.  And they decided to fist me.  They both
did it."

   "What's fist?" Danny asked quietly.

   "What'd ya think?  They each shoved their fists up there.  Both of them
did.  I was screaming the whole time.  When they were done, they left me on
my bed.  When I woke up there was a big blood stain.  I mean like it was a
foot round.  My blood.  From my asshole." Brian was close to crying as he
told the story.

   "I stopped bleeding mostly, but I couldn't hardly walk.That's why I
stayed home yesterday.  They got me these crutches and told me I had to say
I fell down.  But Danny.  Danny.  I can't go back.  I can't.  I don't know
what to do."

   "Come home, Brian.  That's what you do."

   "I said, I can't go back.  You heard me.  I'll kill myself first!" Brian
was close to yelling.

   "Come home, Brian.  Our home.  Yours and mine.  And Mama's.  She'll help
us."

   Danny hugged Brian tightly.  "Stay here.  I'm going to the office and
call Mama."

   Thirty minutes later, Brian, Danny, and Debra were seated in the Peters'
living room.  Debra had checked the boys out from school, showing the
office a forged note from Brian's father releasing him to her care.  In
reality, she probably didn't need the note.  The school trusted her
implicitly and knew Brian was safe in her care -- something they were not
so sure about with Brian's father who was always drunk and loud the few
times he came to school.

   "Listen, sweethearts, you have to tell me everything.  Let's start with
what happened to you, Brian," Debra asked.

   Brian bit his lower lip so hard he drew little beads of blood.  His
freckled face reddened, and tears formed in his eyes.

   "I can't do it," he muttered.  "Mama, please don't make me."

   "Danny, let's start here, then.  Could you please tell me what you and
Brian have been doing together.  You know I don't care, but I need to know
what's been going on.  You don't have to give me a lot of details, but I
must know everything.  I can't help you if you don't."

   "Promise you won't hate me," Danny pleaded as he began.

   As ashamed as he was to reveal the filthy details of Brian and his love
for each other, he couldn't stop himself from telling all, the snot, the
boogers, the pee, the farts, the poop.  Even -- no especially -- the
fucking; he even used that word.  And when he told Mama about both Brian
and him eating each others poop and about Super Turd, neither boy could
look at her.  In fact, they were both weeping so hard from shame they
wouldn't have been able to see her through the tears had they looked at
her.

   "I've never understood why boys like that dirty stuff so much," Debra
said quietly.  "But they do.  My brother did, and so did other boys and men
I've known over the years.  How could I hate either of you.  I love you
both very much and I know this stuff is how you show your love for each
other.  I suspected this was going on and I talked to your sperm father,
Danny.  He told me about vaccines that will keep you both safe.  And he
gave me the name of a doctor we can trust.

   "Now, please.  Brian, dear, dear Brian, please tell me what happened to
you."

   Debra wanted Brian to tell her what bad thing had happened to him
recently that had Danny so worried.  Brian thought she meant what had
happened to him from the beginning, from the first time his father had
forced his eight inch, meth-fueled cock into his tight, virgin asshole.

   So he told it all.  How his father had raped him that first time shortly
after he turned six.  How his brother began raping him with his much
smaller 11-year old dickie right after his father had dismounted him.  How
he'd shit diarrhea the first time and his father thrust his face in it.

   Brian went on to tell his new Mama how his father started "sharing" him
a few weeks after the first rape.  The man had waited long enough until
Brian healed so he could tell the man his little boy was a virgin.  He'd
instructed his little son to act like he'd never seen a big cock before. 
"Make him believe you or I'll bite that puny little thingy off you," he'd
threatened.

   "I played the virgin game again those times," Brian related, head down,
tears dropping onto his ragged blue jeans.  "Then my father told me I'd get
a special party for my seventh birthday.  My father made a big deal of
throwing me a real special birthday party that year, complete with cake,
ice cream, and real presents.  And it turns out a man who'd paid good money
to rip open a virgin 7-year old.  Only I didn't know that.  I didn't know
my father was getting money for me the whole time.

   "Everything went well.  They had me lie down across the table and ate
cake off my naked tummy.  Then they scooped the chocolate ice cream onto my
boy parts.  Boy was that cold.  But it was fun.  And to be honest, I felt
special as they fed me and each other ice cream from my lower parts.

   "Then they turned me over on the table.  My father held my head down so
I couldn't see what was happening.  I remember my brother laughing and
saying nasty things.  Then the man pulled my legs apart real wide and was
poking at my hole.  You know, the one you poop with.

   "I remember him saying `Don't look like no virgin hole, man.  I'm paying
good money to bust this faggot ass wide open.  You better not be lying to
me.' Then I heard his zipper.  I'd been shared enough that

   "Man.  Then the pain.  Huge, searing pain.  The man just smashed into me
as hard as he could.  Ever since my father started sharing me and told me
to play the virgin game, I'd always yelled like I was being killed, even
though after a while it didn't really hurt anymore.

   "This time, though, the pain was as worse than the first time.  It
didn't feel anything like the any of the cocks -- sorry Mama -- the penises
I'd taken.  It felt different.  It was hard like a penis.  But it also was
funny, weird feeling.  Kind of metally and cold.  It really felt like I was
being ripped up.

   "He pumped in and out a few times then says to my Father, `The little
bastard's got a sweet asshole.  But there's no way it's a virgin hole. 
I've busted enough cherries to know the difference.  And you're lying to
me.' He's pumping me hard the whole time.  `I want my money back.  All
$1500 of it.  Or I'll take my trade out of your skin.'

   "My father starts stammering then admits I'm not a virgin.  Tells the
man I've only been fucked a few times.  That was a lie.  I'd stopped
counting how many at 30.  Stopped there cuz that's how high my dummy Brian
brain could count without getting confused.

   "So anyways, he tells my father and brother to turn me over.  He wants
to see my face when he fucks me.  Sorry, Mama, but that's what he said.  My
brother and father take E and twist me on his thing and he's pumping me the
whole time.  I've stopped screaming cuz I can't no more but it so hurts me.
The man grabs my dickie.  It was real tiny right then and asks my father if
it's still virgin there.  I know what virgin means.  And I know he means my
peepee.  But I'm confused.  I know there ain't no way he's gonna be able to
put his thing inside mine.

   "I start yelling but he slaps me.  My asshole of a father laughs and
tells him my dickie is virgin.  And if the man wants, he can do anything he
wants to me so long as he doesn't kill me or do bad damage.  The man asks,
`Anything?' And my father agrees.  So the man rips his thingy out of me.

   "I shriek, of course.  I see why it felt so weird.  It's smaller than my
father's or my brother's dicks.  Much smaller.  When I think back he's not
too much bigger than me right now.  That mean's he's a little over four
inches, I guess.  But it looks really thick.  Like my father's.  But that's
not what's weird.  He's wearing something on it.  His dick is sticking
these metal ring things and they're connected with straps.  Later on, like
two years later, I found out it's something called the `Gates of Hell.' It
was different from the ones I saw later.  The metal rings had these nubs on
them.  No wonder it hurt like hell.

   "My hole's on fire but it felt so good to have that monster thing out.
So he says to my brother, `Go to my van.  Get the red gym bag and the big
plastic roll and bring them here.  When you get back, take off your
clothes. You, too, asshole.' This he said to my father.  Then he says, `If
I have fun with this little faggot, then you get to keep the money I gave
you.  But if you even try to stop me or if you don't do everything I say,
I'll kill you and your older faggot kid.  Then I'll take this little faggot
whore and ram a pole up his asshole and stick it in your yard so everyone
can see you don't mess with The Family.'

   "Michael gets back pretty quick.  He's like only 12.  He looked big to
me, but he's having lots of trouble getting stuff in.  He's dragging this
big roll of plastic and this red gym bag.  I can still see that if I think
about it.  They all get naked and take like five minutes setting stuff up.
They spread plastic out.  The man grabs me and drops me on it hard. 
Everything hurts now.

   "So he tells me something like, `Too bad your dad lied to me.  You
woulda gotten off with a fucking.  Now I get to do whatever I want.  It
won't be pretty and it's gonna hurt.  I promise.  I'm still gonna fuck that
faggot whore ass of yours.  But I'm also gonna fuck your pisshole.  Ever
had that done?'

   "I had no idea.  I must said `no' cuz he said - I still remember exactly
what he said -- `Well, I'm gonna fuck that hole now and I guarantee you'll
be screaming.'

   "My peepee had shrunk up so bad it was like this little button.  Kinda
like Timmy's sometimes.  He had my brother stretch it up so it was pointing
to straight up.  He went into his bag and pulled this little leather case
out.  He unzipped it.  There were these funny metal rods in it.  Kind of
like an S-shape but not really.  I'm not sure how long they were but they
were pretty long.  Longer than my father's cock when it's hard.  He took
the skinniest one and poked it right into my pee hole.  That hella hurt.  I
know I screamed.

   "He didn't stop.  He kept pushing it all the way in.  It kind of hurt
and tickled at the same time.  Good tickled.  I sprung a bone.  Couldn't
help it.  He got all the way to my pee bag.  You know.  It's the, the..."

   "Bladder," Debra whispered, shocked at what she was hearing.  Danny
simply sat wide eyed, hands in his lap, squeezing himself through his
pants.

   "Yeah, that's it.  Bladder.  When it hit my bladder I got this great
feeling.  Shivered all over.  Now I know it was a dry cum, an orgasm.  But
I also started pissing.  Couldn't help it.  The man pushed my brother's
head in the way and made him drink it as it sprayed out.  It got all over
his hair and face.  But he drank a ton.  I swear.

   "Then the man pulls the metal thing out and finds the biggest one, like
the thickest one and shoves that one in all the way.  Now this just hurt.
No good feeling.  My peepee shrunk up to nothing.  He pulls it up and duct
tapes it to the metal thing.  He has my brother plug this box into the wall
and then attaches some wires to the metal thing in my peepee.

   "My father starts to say something but the man stops him.  `Not a word.
Remember.  Say another word and you're all dead.  And this one' meaning me,
`will die real slow.'

   "Just then my brother says to him that the piss upset his stomach.  Says
he's gotta poop only he uses the `S' word.  Asks if he can go to the
bathroom.  The man says, `You got all the toilet you want right here' and
points to me.

   "Michael asks, `You want me to shit on my little faggy brother?  Cool.
Where, sir.' `Where do you want?' the man asks him.

   "Michael says -- and I'll never forget this -- `I've hated the little
faggot since he was born.  Can I do it on his face?' The man goes, `On his
face?  I want you to shit in his mouth.  But wait till I tell you.' Sorry
about the `S' word but that's what he said.  So Michael climbs over me with
his butthole right over my mouth.  The man turns this dial on the box thing
he's got.  This huge jolt of electricity goes right into me.  My peepee, my
bladder.  I even feel it in my balls.

   "He stops it and leans down and says, `You're gonna eat your big
brother's shit.  You got it?' Another jolt.  I said `yes' about a thousand
times.  He gets between my legs.  I know he's gonna put his thingy in me.
He tells my father to hurry up and get a plate.  All this time I'm looking
at my brother's poop hole.  It's twitching like he's gotta go bad.  And his
poop is prairie dogging.  You know poking in and out.  My father gets back
and then man has him hold the plate under his asshole.

   "He tells my brother to start pooping and then rams his cock into me.  I
scream agin.  Then he turns the electricity back on really big and I
screaming even more.  My eyes musta closed cuz the next thing I feel is
this warm, stinky stuff in my mouth.  Michael's poop.  I open my eyes and
close my mouth and try to spit it out but the man turns the electricity up
real, real high.

   "The man says real loud, `I love to fuck and shit at the same time. 
Catch it all on the plate, asshole.' That's to my father.  And Michael's
poop is piling up all over my face.  `Better start chewing and swallowing
shit piglet,' he says to me.  And he turns it up again.  So I eat it.  And
he's slamming into me.  And so I start thinking about other stuff.  Like
camping with my real dad cuz this guy I'm living with isn't my real dad. 
My real dad's an astronaut.  He loves me a lot.  Right then we're eating
chocolate ice cream and we're fishing and everything else has gone away. 
And he's the one doing stuff to me in the back.  I love it cuz I love him.

   "He finally had his cum inside me.  He brought the plate up front and I
was sure he was gonna have me eat his poop, too.  There wasn't a lot, but I
didn't know if I could eat any more.  Michael's sitting now.  The man
shoves it under his nose and says, `Your turn faggot big brother.'

   "My brother never forgave me.  Said it was my fault he had to eat it. 
Anyways, after that time my father shared me a lot.  I figured out what
`whore' meant and knew I was one.  I also learned to like nasty stuff. 
Don't know why.  But I do."

   Brian stopped his narrative and Brenda pulled him into a hug.  Everyone
sat silent for a few minutes.  Everyone was crying.

   "What about this last time," she asked.  "Want to tell us about that? 
But you don't have to give a lot of details.  Not like the last time.  I
don't know if I could hear them without my heart breaking completely."

   Brian told her what he'd told Danny.  About the good times with the
customers.  About the rough fucking from his father and brother.  About
being fisted four times, twice each by father and brother.  About how his
rear end hurt so much, he hadn't pooped since then.

   "Sweety, my newest son, can I look and see if they hurt you really bad?

   Brian hitched himself up on the arm of the couch, pulled his pants down
and bent over.  His underwear was badly smeared with blood and feces.

   "Sorry about the dirty underwear, Mama," Brian muttered.  "I can't help
it."

   What Brenda saw shocked her.  Brian's anus gaped open about an inch. 
Normally red-rimmed with puffy tissue, it was a deep purple, badly bruised.
Instead of the swollen tissue that usually ringed it, a quarter to half
inch of tissue from his rectum protruded.  And there was bright red blood
seeping from the unclosed hole.

   Brenda knew this must hurt.  She wanted to provide Brian relief as soon
as she could, but she feared doing anything too rash until he was examined
by a doctor.

   "Bring me the phone, sweety," she said.  Brian started to pull up his
pants to get the phone but Brenda stopped him.

   "No, my other sweety." In that short amount of time Danny had the phone
for her.  "Danny, sweety, go get a towel.  Do you have a change of
underwear?" she asked Brian.

   "In my pack.  It's my only other pair."

   Danny didn't need to be told what to do.  He spread the towel on couch
and retrieved Brian's underpants.

   "I'll be right back.  You sit down.  Danny take his pants off gently and
help him into his underpants." Only Danny didn't need to be told to be
gentle.

   Debra returned in about five minutes.  She handed Danny the phone and
put one of Timmy's diapers in the bottom of Brian's underpants.

   "I talked to Danny's sperm father about this.  He's sending a doctor he
knows over to look at you.  To make sure you're okay."

   "NO!" Brian screamed.  "They'll take me away.  I'll go someplace where I
can't see Danny anymore.  Please.  No."

   Brenda looked at Brian and smiled.  "That's why we're not going to the
hospital like we should.  He's going to look at you and if there's no
terribly serious damage, he'll fix you up.  My friend is also looking at
how we can get you away from your father and bring you home where you
belong."

   "Home?"

   At this point Danny was just about jumping up and down with excitement.

   "Yes, home.  Here with Danny and your new Mama.  Home.  He's coming up
from the city and has other patients, so he won't be here for three hours.
Until then, rest."

   Doctor Jameson arrived in just a little over one hour.  He'd cleared his
appointments -- nothing as pressing as a badly abused boy to attend to --
and driven just over the speed limit to cover the 70 miles in 58 minutes .
He was field experienced in Afghanistan and in addition to his private
practice, tended to the gay and lesbian population in the city.  His work
there meant he often had to attend to injuries where participants refused
to go to the hospital, so he'd developed his own emergency field pack.

   Jameson was very professional but a bit distant and cool when talking to
Brian.  After anesthetizing the boy's rectum with a shot of lidocaine, he
did a thorough rectal exam.  Brian's sphincter was badly torn and there
were some small abrasions right inside.  But the intestinal tissue was
intact and there was no need to take him to the hospital.

   He told Debra he'd need to use the dining room table for his operating
theater.  Brian's face screwed up when he heard that.

   "Don't worry, sweety, it won't be like your seventh birthday."

   "Before we continue, though," Doctor Jameson said, "We'll need to clear
out your intestine.  It's pretty dirty, there, you know." He and Mama
helped the boy limp to the downstairs bathroom.

   After several high colonic enemas, Jameson was ready to start his
procedures.  He injected the boy with Versed and a mild sedative.  Then,
for the first time since coming through the door, he let his caring side
show.  He lifted Brian from the toilet and nuzzled his head.

   "It's going to be all right, Brian.  We all love you here."

   He carried him to the dining room, which Debra had thoroughly cleaned
according to his directions.  A large plastic sheet, held in place by
telescoping stands, surrounded the table.  The table itself was covered in
sterile plastic.  The doctor lay Brian on a sterile plastic pad.  
It
took three weeks before Brian's rectum was back to normal.  Dr.  Jameson
had not only repaired the damage it had received from the violent fisting,
he'd repaired much of the damage done by prolonged sexual abuse.

   "It won't be exactly like he hadn't ever been hurt," he told Debra. 
"But he'll be able to be in showers with other boys in school.  And it will
be a lot more fun for Danny."

   In that three weeks, Debra had relied on Patrick Raskin -- Danny's sperm
father -- to clear the way for Brian to come home.  To his real home.  It
wasn't possible to adopt him.  That would risk too many questions.  But
Raskin had threatened and coerced Michael O'Herlihy senior into signing
unlimited parental rights over to Debra Peters.  Five thousand dollars and
the threat of serious police intervention was enough to convince the man to
relinquish all claims on the boy.

   "He was getting too old for me and my friends, anyway," O'Herlihy
slurred while signing the papers.  "And his asshole was getting way too
sloppy for anyone to enjoy.

   Patrick Raskin waited until he had the documents in hand, handed over
the $5,000 in cash, then belted O'Herlihy hard enough to knock him to the
floor.

   "The only thing sloppy around here," Raskin said, "is the brian I just
rattled in your brain case."

   Over the three weeks that Brian healed, the two boys slept together in
Danny's bed.  While the Peter's house had five bedrooms, and Danny could
easily have had his own, the boys would have none of that when Brenda
suggested it.  They would sleep together in the same bed, as lovers, as
brothers.  Only after four days, that bed was a brand new super-king sized
one Debra had bought for them as a surprise.  Plenty of room for two active
boys, but they spent most of the time in the middle, cuddled together. 
Danny embraced his lover so tightly it was like he was afraid someone would
steal Brian.  Timmy was a frequent visitor during the day to both boy's
delight.

   Both Dr.  Jameson and Debra warned the boys that they couldn't do any
serious playing during Brian's recuperation.  At Danny's persistent
questioning, they agreed that masturbation and oral ministrations were
allowable.  But no anal play and certainly nothing more serious.  (That's
as detailed as either got).

   Brian remained in bed for a week.  Danny helped attend to his toileting
needs, holding the urinal (or using his mouth) when Brian needed to pee. 
To Brian's great embarrassment, the first week after he came home and lay
in bed and while his stitches were still fresh, he had to wear diapers. 
Because of his father's and brother's brutal assault, he lacked any real
bowel control.  In addition, Dr.  P had prescribed a cream that deadened
the nerves in his anus to ease the pain.  One desired side effect was to
also keep the orifice loose so that he frequently defecated without even
knowing it.  At least until the stench hit his nose.

   Danny, with his Mama's agreement and supervision at first, loved
changing his buddy's wet and poopy diaper, He'd wipe him clean with Tucks.
Then he'd lovingly apply the nerve deadening cream -- his fingers always
felt a little numb right after -- carefully, gently around the black and
blue hole and carefully, oh so carefully just inside the muscular ring. 
And finally prescription strength antibiotic cream to keep infection at
bay.

   At first because he felt so awful about his lover's pain, Danny would
simply flush the contents of the older boy's diaper down the toilet.  But
three days into Brian's recuperation, when Brian began feeling better and
started enjoying being, in his words, a diaper-baby, Danny started poking
at the soft fecal loads as he went to flush them in the toilet.

   At day number five -- when Mama and Timmy were away for several hours --
Danny became bolder.  He was on their bed playing Fish with Brian when
suddenly the older boy let a huge, incredibly smelly fart.  Both boys
gasped for air as the stench spread around them.  Then somewhat sheepishly
and somewhat proudly Brian said, "I just sharted!"

   Danny looked at him quizzically.  "Sharted?  What's that?"

   "I farted and shitted at the same time," Brian explained.  "I think it's
pretty messy.  Do you want me to try to change myself?"

   "No way.  Diaper babies don't change themselves!"

   And it was very messy.  The greenish-brown poop in the diaper was so
soft it was almost liquid.  Danny carefully removed the diaper and cleaned
Brian up thoroughly.  But for the first time in almost a week, he took
Brian's steel hard penis in his mouth and sucked hard.  Danny had jacked
Brian before then, but fear of his dirty mouth causing problems, he'd not
used his mouth at all.  Within 15 seconds, Brian was riding the crest of an
intense, noisy orgasm.  Once the intensity of the orgasm passed, Danny
stood to empty the filthy diaper.

   "I know you want to do more than flush it down the pot," Brian said. 
"Go ahead.  Let me see."

   Danny sat back down n the bed next to Brian.  He lifted the messy diaper
to his nose and inhaled its stench deeply.  Then he licked at the rotten
mass that smeared most of the diaper, getting some on the tip of his nose.
Then he pushed his face down into the mess.  When he lifted his head up,
every part of his smiling, little fairy face was covered in Brian poop.

   He pulled a clean sheet from the pile Mama had left on the bedside table
"just in case," and spread it on the floor.  He pulled his PJ bottoms off,
lay on the sheet and smeared his pecker with Brian's poop from the diaper.
It was as soft and slippery as mayonnaise as he used it to jerk himself
off. Licking the poo surrounding his lips and periodically reaching into
the diaper to pull out more to eat or to smear on his tummy and chest.

   Within five or so minutes, smeared head to pubis in his lover's shit,
Danny's body shook with a powerful dry cum -- the best one since the day
before Brian came home.

   After that week in bed, Brian returned to school.  Before returning,
Brenda had worked closely with him on his schoolwork.  She was a patient
teacher, and he gained skills and confidence.  And of course, Danny read to
him.  His friends were glad to see him and bought the story that his fall
from the tree had been more serious than they'd thought at first.

   His friends also believed the story that he was now living with his aunt
Debra and cousin Danny.  They also admired -- jokingly because they were
adolescent boys -- Brian's new clothes.  Debra had bought him three new
outfits through Amazon, two new pairs of shoes, and a half dozen pairs of
jockey shorts of various colors.  Brian had never had colored underpants
before, only dingy white ones handed down from Michael or bought at second
hand stores.  Brian also asked for some white ones.  Debra gladly complied,
but asked him if he didn't prefer the fancier, colored ones.

   Brian hemmed and hawed, "Well, I want the white ones for weekends, when
we're at home." Home -- the word echoed through his being and brought tears
to his eyes.  "You know, when me and Danny are like, you know..." He
couldn't finish, blushing deeply, making his freckles even darker and more
pronounced.  He couldn't say that on weekends, when he was back to normal,
he'd want to gift his lover with nasty skid marks, skid marks that would
show clearly.  White undies that would show piss stains better.  Undies
that would show what a nasty boy he was.  Maybe even undies he could poop
in and have the dirty stain show through.

   Funny for Brian.  Until he'd moved into his new home, he would have
automatically thought "shit" instead of "poop." But now, somehow the
younger child's word seemed more like who he felt he was now.

   After three weeks, Dr.  Jameson returned for his his fifth and final
examination.  Brian had healed well, he said, and now the stitches needed
to come out.  Danny watched closely as the doctor carefully snipped and
pulled out the 17 stitches around Brian's anus.  Brian winced, but it
didn't really hurt.  When the last stitch was pulled, Dr.  Jameson pulled
up Brian's sweat pants, then surprised the two boys by leaning over and
kissing Brian on the forehead.

   "Doctor, can I ask you something?" Brian asked, still lying on his side,
knees pulled up to expose his freckled butt and anus.

   "Go for it."

   "When you first came and later you were so, I dunno, not friendly You
weren't mean or anything.  Just not friendly.  Now you kissed me.  Why?"

   "Because, my brave young warrior, had I thought at all about what I was
seeing, I would not have been able to tend to you through the tears."

   "One last question.  Okay?  When can Danny and me, you know, start doing
it back there."

   "Any time you want.  But trust me, you're very tight back there and if
it hurts at all, please don't be stupid."

   "Okay.  I promise."

   Danny sat up and pierced Dr.  Jameson with an unblinking stare.  "I've
got a question, then.  I know Brian likes bigger..." He paused a moment to
find the right word.  "He likes bigger cocks, you know, penises, in him.  I
don't mind.  It sounds sexy and I want him to be super happy.  Can he have
a bigger friend, you know, um, fuck him?"

   Danny was both proud and a little embarrassed about using the big boy
words with an adult.

   Dr.  Jameson knew he would not be able to stop a voracious boy like
Brian.  "Well," Dr.  Jameson answered, "I gave both you the shots your mom
wanted.  And Brian's anus is stronger than before he got hurt this time. 
So it's okay any time he wants.  Same warning about pain, though.  It will
be painful the first few times.  So take it easy.  And make sure the bigger
friend is careful and loving."

   "Got it!" Danny said.  "Now my last question.  Are you careful and
loving?"

   Dr.  Jameson threw up both hands.

   "Whoa, boy.  We can't do that.  I'm his doctor.  There's no way I could
do anything..."

   Brian and Danny threw their arms around the doctor.

   "Please.  Please," they begged as if they'd planned this.

   "You're the perfect person, Dr.  Jameson," Danny said once he
relinquished his grip on the man.  "You know Brian's probably going to do
it with someone bigger.  He hated the abuse.  But he loved the sex.  He
told me.  So if you're his first, you can make sure he's okay and
everything.  Please."

   "This is the other reason I tried to act so cool when I was treating
you, Brian.  I think you're really sexy.  You both are.  And I'm a boy
lover, so treating you was a challenge.  You have no idea how hard seeing
you naked got me, even as torn up as you were.  Damn!  Let me go talk to
your mother."
   antoniogreen@writeme.com