Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Disclaimer: This is just a story, not reality.  If this sounds like anyone
you know, it's pure coincidence.  Don't read it if you're not supposed to.
You know the drill.

   Eric - Chapter 6: Runaway
Warnings: Mb, extreme pedo, ws

   (c) 2009 storieseric@gmail.com

   I ran away from home once.  I can't remember why, but it was something
stupid.  Daddy Rae knew I was running away, but didn't stop me.  It was
mostly him I was upset at, and he knew I was trying to out-stubborn him.  I
stomped down the sidewalk carrying my cat, Fluffy, in my backpack.  He
waved from the front door and said he expected me back by supper.

   The first place I went was Daniel's tree house.  Daniel is one of my
best friends and lives only a couple of blocks away.  A couple of blocks is
a long way to carry a heavy cat that's not used to being in a backpack.  At
first she wasn't so heavy, but she kept clawing my back every time she
turned to look at something different.  So I ended up carrying the backpack
in my arms.  My original goal was Z's Comics, but after one block the
treehouse seemed like a much better idea.  I reasoned that Fluffy was
afraid of heights, so she wouldn't run away, and perhaps I could sleep
there for a little while.  I'd get a job at Z's, buy a ticket to Hollywood,
and my life would be great from then on, or something.

   I think the only thing I wasn't wrong about was the part about buying a
ticket.  Greyhound has a policy about never denying a ride to runaways.

   Daniel wasn't at home.  I climbed into the trehouse anyway and set out
some kibble for Fluffy.  Mrs.  Kenedy was at her back door when I came
down.

   "Daniel's not due back from camp until 3.  Were you planning on waiting
for him?" Daniel's mom was kind and a better cook than either of my dads.
She also had this knack of being there whenever you tried to get away with
something.  I was often glad she worked evenings as a nurse.

   "Hi, Mrs.  Kenedy.  No, just putting some stuff here for later." That
was a common excuse for being in the treehouse by myself.  It was true this
time, too.  In addittion to Fluffy, I had a change of clothes, two
Powerbars, a ziplock bag of kibble, and about $15.  I had thought a little
bit ahead, at least.

   Mrs.  Kenedy watched as I cut through her neighbors' yards.  I think I
get it now.  Adults were everywhere, always watching everything I did.  And
all they seemed to do was make rules and give me chores or homework.  I've
always been an independant person.  That day I must have blown up and
decided I didn't need adults looking after me.

   Z's Compics was downtown.  By the time I got there I had resolved not to
sleep in the treehouse, but somewhere where no one knew who I was.  I had
also thought through everything I was going to say to convince Zeke to give
me a job.

   Are the details of the conversation important?  It was mostly
embarassing.  Seems it's illegal to hire eight year olds, and Zeke wasn't
willing to bend that rule.  Telling him I only needed work long enough to
buy a bus ticket didn't help.  There was also the fact that knowing every
detail about the X-Men wasn't a useful job skill.

   'So hiring kids is illegal,' I thought.  'Where do I find someone
willing to do something illegal?'

   I wandered, not sure what to do next.  A while later I was getting
hungry, and I saw a help wanted sign in a bar that high school kids talked
about.  Normally I avoided this part of town.  Now it seemed like an
opportunity.

   The inside of the bar was dark, even though it was just after lunch. 
There was a picture on the wall that Daddy Rae would have liked, of a man
in leather being mounted by a lion.  The air felt smoky and was full of
unfamiliar smells.

   "A little young to drink, aren't you?" said a thick necked man at the
door.  I made a disgusted face at him and continued inside.  I don't know
what adults see in alcohol.  It always tastes so vile, no matter what they
do to it.  And it makes you do stupid things.

   The bartender was not what I had pictured, if I had pictured anything.
He was thin, soft, and had a silver horn piercing his lower lip.

   "Need something, son?" Normal voice, like a cachier at the grocery
store. I could tell he was ready to deny whatever request I might have.  I
stepped up close so I could whisper, and his eyes flicked down my loose
shirt.

   "I need a job, and you don't have to tell anyone about it.  I'll do
anything.  I learn fast.  I just need $100 a week." Was that too much?  How
much does someone normaly make in a week?  Should I have asked for more?

   I was prepared for him to laugh.  I was prepared for him to argue.  I
wasn't prepared to haggle, but at least I expected that.  Instead, he
leaned closer to me and dropped his voice.

   "I couldn't have you seen by the customers.  You wouldn't stay secret
long." His eyes flicked down my body again.  "Anything, huh?"

   I nodded eagerly, then paused, beginning to suspect what he had in mind.

   "I can't promise you regular work.  But if you come in back and give me
a taste, I'd pay you $50."

   "Um...  I didn't mean-"

   "You need the money, right?" He smiled while I just stood there,
stunned. "Tell you what.  You think about it.  If you decide to accept,
come in through the back door.  Fewer questions that way."

   I tried to back out casually, certain my face was bright red and that
everyone instantly knew what we were talking about.  The door man laughed
and shouted a question back inside.  As soon as I hit the street, I was
running back home.  Or, well, Daniel's treehouse.  I remembered that after
about four blocks.



   Fluffy was gone when I got there.  She was either gone or back home, so
I didn't bother looking for her.  Instead, I moped.  Nothing was turning
out right.  I heard Daniel and his Dad unpack the car and decided to wait
instead of help.  I was still determined to be stubborn, though.  Perhaps I
could hitchhike to Hollywood.  I didn't really need money.  I could live on
the streets until I got work as an actor.  Of course, first I had to tell
Daniel my plans.

   Daniel was supportive, in a way.  He listened to me complain, andagreed
or was sympathetic where appropriate.  But he didn't believe that I was
really going to run away.  And he reacted to the bar incident much
differently than I expected.

   "Fifty dollars?  Wow.  You should do it!"

   "Eww.  That's prostitution, you know."

   "Sp?  You get moeny and you get to have sex!"

   "Eww." I was thinking sex with some stranger with weird piercings in a
smelly bar.  He was thinking the first chance he ever had to have sex.  I
wanted to explain the difference to him, if I could figure out how without
telling secrets.

   "Four times, and you could get your own DS."

   Pokemon derailed my thoughts completely.  The topic came up again in
jest a few times throughout the day, but I never figured out an appropriate
thing to say.  Not that I really thought about it hard.  I did start
noticing how often Daniel adjusted himself, and began to wonder if he had a
crush on me.

   I got to talk about it that night, with Mr.  Kenedy of all people.  When
Daniel went to bed, I went to the treehouse.  My first night sleeping
outside.  It was cold!  I tried to use my spare clothes as a blanket.  They
didn't do so well.  Summer was s'posed to be warm, right?  I must've made a
racket, because Mr.  Kenedy climbed up the ladder.

   "Eric?" I srugged miserably in response.  "Shouldn't you be at home?" I
shivvered and thought about shaking my head.  Cold does wonders for getting
rid of stubbornness, though.

   "Maybe."

   He looked at me and sighed.  I think he knew he wasn't as observant as
Mrs.  Kenedy, and tried to be extra patient with me.  He climbed in the
rest of the way anf wrapped a warm arm around me.  I hugged onto him,
absorbing as much warmth as I could, and no doubt confusing him more.

   "Do you want to talk about it?" I shrugged again and waited for my teeth
to behave.

   "I'm trying to run away."

   "From home?"

   I nodded.  "It's not working." I could feel different thoughts go
through him, as he tensed in different ways.

   "Is something bad happening at home?"

   Complaining about your parents to your friendis one thing.  Complaining
to his dad is something else.  He might want to do something about it.  I
shook my head and tried to chage the subject.

   "A guy offered me fifty bucks for sex." He tensed up imediately, mostly
in anger but I could feel his willy swelling against my thigh.

   "Someone you know?"

   "No."

   "One of your fathers' friends?"

   "No, a stranger."

   He looked down at me, his face softening to worry.  "Did you...?"

   "No, I ran."

   "Good." He hugged me tight for a while.  "Ok, I'm confused.  What does
this have to do with why you're running away?"

   "Nothing," I giggled.  "I was trying to get a job." I shifted as an
excuse to rub my thigh against his stiffy.  Inappropriate, I know, but I
couldn't resist teasing.  I didn't know if he liked me that way.  I just
liked thinking he did.

   "Were you looking for sex?" I burst out laughing.  He wasn't just on
another page, he had a different book.

   "You're trying too hard.  Just listen for a bit." He grunted and waited
patiently while I gathered my thoughts.  His hands rubbing my back and arms
were becoming distracting.

   "Mmm...  There's no real question, just a bunch of thoughts. 
Prostitution is icky, but sex is supposed to be good, and so is making
money.  Girls who have sex are called whores, even if they don't make
money. Boys who have sex are called what?  Gay if it's with another boy. 
What if it's with an adult?  Danny thinks getting sex would be worth
anything.  Sad I was stupid forut it is still icky, and I don't know why."

   I looked up at him working his jaw, like it was a real effort to keep
from interrupting.

   "Oh.  And yes, I've had The Talk.  And no, I haven't done anything with
Danny."

   I squirmed to between his legs with my back against his belly and drew
his arms around me.  The cold wasn't really getting better.  Going inside
wouldn't work, though.  Mrs.  Kenedy would hear everything.

   He stayed quiet for longer than I expected.

   "You really should be talking to one of your fathers about this."

   "Running away from home."

   "Point." He sighed, hugged tighter, then drew back.  "I could tell you
what I think.  But a lot of people believe differently than I do."

   I shrugged.  "I believe lots of things others don't."

   "And some believe me talking to you about sex would be wrong."

   "I'm good at secrets."

   He laughed for the first time that night.  "So I hear.  You've nearly
driven Danny mad on more than one occasion."

   I giggled with shivvering teeth.  He 'hmm'ed down at me.

   "Tammy will be wondering where I am."

   "Hey," I whined, holding onto him.

   "I'll answer your questions.  But first you need some blankets and
something hot to drink."

   "Orange tea!"

   He ruffled my hair and left, returning after about ten minutes with a
camping bag and a thermous.  I drank tea while he unpacked a huge sleeping
bag and made room for everything.  There was small talk I can't remember.
We both got into the sleeping bag for warmth, and I noticed him become
uncomfortable again.  I almost laughed and said he could molest me if he
wanted to, but I suddenly got shy.  He stopped mid-sentence and looked at
me.

   I looked at my hands.  "Do you think sex is wrong?"

   "No." I peered up at him suspiciously.

   "But, you said-"

   "It's dangerous." I thought about that.  He continued.  "Going somewhere
private with a stranger.  You could easily get hurt." He wrapped an arm
around me protectively.

   "Icky people."

   He nodded.  "But that's not all.  Sex is supposed to be something
special you share with your friends.  How would you feel if someone offered
you money to be your friend for one hour, then forget he exists until the
next time he can pay you?"

   "That's be weird."

   "Weird, dangerous, but not bad.  In Japan, they have geishas, which are
like prostitues who also act like your mother, er, parent."

   "Why woul you want that?" I could feel his stiffy again and wondered if
geishas were special to him.

   "Well, us adults sometimes miss the comfort our parents gave us.  Having
someone to make it all better when you're feeling down.  Someone who can
make you feel safe again." He grinned and winked.  "And some people like
the idea of a boy having sex with his mommy or daddy."

   I made the appropriate 'ew' face, like any of my classmates would have,
and giggled.  He blushed, and I wondered if I had reacted wrong.

   "Do you?" I asked.  He looked uncertain, so I continued, "like little
boys and their parents having sex?"

   He hesitated, rubbing my back.  His blush didn't go away.

   "Have you had sex?" I gave him a look which could have been 'no way' or
'like I'd tell'.  He laughed, "I won't ask with who, I just want to know."

   I thought about it.  Adults are good at finding things out.  But I
trusted him to keep his word.  And I could tell he really wanted me to say
yes.  I nodded.

   "Was it good or icky?"

   "Good!" He relaxed as soon as I started to answer.

   "See, I think good sex should be shared between parents and their kids.
That's a secret.  I think you already know what most people would think if
they knew I felt that way.  In a way, you're kind of a dream come true for
me." I grinned and put my hand on his stiffy.  "That too.  But I meant
being able to talk about this."

   "Mrs.  Kenedy doesn't know?" He tensed briefly and shook his head.

   "I've been afraid.  And until now, I didn't know anyone who had good sex
with a child.  What if everyone else turned out to be right?"

   I only knew one way to comfort him.  I squeezed his stiffy.  "Do you
like me?" He moaned and spread his legs, stretching the sleeping bag.  I
giggled and rolled between his legs, pressing my stiffy against his and
resting my chin on his chest.

   He closed his eyes and shuddered.  I just lay on him and waited. 
Seducing adults is always fun, when I like them.  Especially when they need
time to work up their nerve.

   After a bit, he skid his fingers under my waistband and stopped with his
fingertips on my bottom.  I flexed my muscles encouraginly.  He moaned
again but didn't move his hand.  I watched and waited.

   "If...  we do this..." He opened his eyes to see me looking into them,
smiling.  "Tammy will find out.  I couldn't keep it from her frever."

   The one argument that could win against me.  I'd heard it before.  My
disappointment must have shown, but I didn't move or say anything.  He
closed his eyes again and let his head fall back.

   Then his hand slipped further into my shorts and squeezed a cheek. 
"Would you stand up for me?"

   "Huh?"

   "Tammy might understand.  She probably suspects me already.  If you told
her your side of it, it might help."

   That was a first for me.  I had to think about it.  "No lying, but no
asking about secrets."

   He pulled me up and kissed me on the mouth, one hand in my armpit and
the other on my bottom.  My mouth was open, his wasn't yet.

   "And you said Danny wants sex too.  Either I'm going to be in a lot of
trouble, or my life is going to get much better very quickly." I giggled
and squeezed his fingers with my bottom.  This is what I liked.  All this
happiness directed at me.  Suddenly I realized why I thought prostitution
was icky.  The lust would be there, but instead of happiness there would be
money.

   He let go of my bottom to unbutton his pants and and we wriggled our
legs to shove everything but our shirts to the bottom of the sleeping bag.
I had to scoot down a little to keep from accidentally kicking him in the
balls.  He lifted my shirt off and explored my body with his hands.

   His hands were plesantly rough and he smelled clean, no sweat or
colognes.  At first he just wanted to touch me all over, finding out which
spots made one or both of us moan.  I soaked up the attention and good
feelings, occasionally squirming when he tickled.

   He seemed facinated with my chest and armpits, so I scooted up again and
braced myself with my chest almost touching his face.  He kissed and sucked
on my nipples, drawing more moans and giggles from me.  Then he kissed his
way to each armpit and licked it clean, making me laugh and squirm.

   When I couldn't take any more tickles, I scooted up and pressed my
stiffy to his mouth.  He smiled indulgently and slurped me in, and my hips
started thrusting on their own.  The tingling grew and grew.  For a while I
wondered if I was going to cum, or if it would just keep going.  Then I
came in a long dry shudder, mouth open and tongue curling in a silent
scream.

   I sat back on his hand and discovered he had already worked two fingers
into me.  I wriggled my bottom and sat down harder, making my shiny stiffy
wag like the tail of a puppy.  It was too sensative to touch, but the
motion felt good.  His other hand pet my chest slick with saliva and sweat.

   "I've fantasized about that all my life.  Did you like it?"

   "Course!" I bounced again, making my stiffy smack my belly.  "You gonna
fuck me now?" I grinned at saying a word when he couldn't yell at me for
it.

   "Ah...  I can't.  I came."

   "Lemme see!" I unzipped the sleeping bag and threw it open.  Mr.  Kenedy
had made a tent with his knees to keep from making it messy.  I rubbed his
cum all over his softening stiffy, trying to get him hard again.  He didn't
quite go soft, but he didn't get hard enough to keep from bending, either.
He did make lots of funny sounds.

   We cleaned up with a towel and some leftover tea.  Then we cuddled while
he told me his story, which I might include later but probably not.  He
thought it best if we didn't play sex anymore that night, so I slept naked
in his arms.  He still had his shirt on.



   Cold mornings are especially hard to wake up to.  Mr.  Kenedy was gone.
I ate the Powerbars, drank the last of the tea, and thought about how much
trouble I was going to be in when I went home.

   But first, bathroom.  I ran into the Kenedy's house and releived myself.
When I came out of the bathroom, Mrs.  Kenedy was glaring at me, hands on
hips and everything.

   "You.  Kitchen.  Right now.  And stay there until I come for you."

   And so I sat on a hard wooden chair for what felt like hours, listening
to Mrs.  Kenedy talk to Daniel and Mr.  Kenedy seperately.  I couldn't make
out any words, but heard the full range of emotions, although who voiced
them often surprised me.

   Daniel once gave a wordless shout of frustration and anger.  Mr.  Kenedy
sounded alternately hurt and disbelieving.  Mrs.  Kenedy was always too
quiet to hear.

   So, I expected Doom when Mrs.  Kenedy finally came for me.  Pouring a
glass of Pepsi and setting it in front of me ddn't calm me.  Nice, friendly
Doom lasts longer.  But I had promised.

   "Why don't you tell me your story of what happened last night.  You've
probably rehearsed one by now." She leaned back against the counter.

   "Um...  I seduced Mr.  Kenedy.  It just sortof happened.  He was talking
me out of running away from home."

   "Did you think about how it might make me feel?"

   "Huh?" I was honestly confused.  Sure, I figured she would be mad, but
that was all.  Se laughed, which didn't help my confusion.

   "How many men have you seduced besides my husband?"

   "Um," I hadn't exactly kept count.  "Four?"

   "Why?"

   "Um, playing sex is fun?  And they like it, but they're scared."

   "Playing sex, huh?" se laughed.  "You're not helping me, you know."

   "Are you going to tell me sex is bad an' I'm too young to do bad
things?"

   "I'm supposed to be mad at you.  I should be mad at Richard.  You're
both being so cute, though."

   She was quiet for a bit and I was afraid to say anything.  There was a
Calvin and Hobbes comic where Calvin stole the car and had a low speed
crash because he couldn't drive.  His parents rushed out and comforted him,
releived that he was ok.  Calvin was confused because he was expecting to
be yelled at.  I felt like that.  Where was the Doom?

   "Richard said not to ask, but I have to know.  Do your parents know you
have sex?"

   I bit my lip.  Not answering that question would be the same as agreeing
to it.  "Not a fair question.  You could ask about anybody.  If I say 'yes'
they get in trouble even if I lied.  If I say 'no' they get in trouble
because you think I lied."

   "Sounds like you memorized that." I nodded and smiled.  She grunted.  "I
bet you've reheared this entire conversation."

   I giggled.  "Kinda."

   "What if I say I'll believe you?"

   "You won't.  You can't."

   "Ok mr.  smartypants.  What do you think I should do about this?"

   I hadn't expected to be asked for advice, but after thinking about it I
had some.  And she might actually follow it.

   "Look it up online," I grinned.  "Google 'child sexuality'.  Don't
search 'NAMBLA', they're weird.  And 'boylove' will just get manga." She
was looking at me weird.  "When I can't ask an adlt, I look it up."

   "Don't you fathers use filters on your computers?"

   "They try."

   "Kids." That sounded normal.  I started drinking my Pepsi.  "We'll keep
this between us for now, but don't think you're off the hook."

   There was more to the conversation, but truthfully it was hard to
remember that much accurately.  Mrs.  Kenedy made me call my parents and
have them pick me up.  I was handed over with a "Here's your little
runaway." Daddy Rae laughed that my idea of running away was an impromptu
sleepover at a friends house.

   Punishment for running away was no sex for a week.  And Mrs.  Kenedy
didn't let me visit Daniel or Mr.  Kenedy for a month, although Daniel
could visit me.

   Mr.  and Mrs.  Kenedy worked something out, but I never found out what.
They got along fine again, and Daniel stopped joking about sex all the
time. I'd like to think he was playing sex with his daddy, and maybe with
his mommy too, but I never saw it.  Mr.  Kenedy hinted that he was going to
stuff my bottom with his stiffy, but that hasn't happened yet.  Perhaps
something will happen this summer.



   That was the longest point I've ever made.  Too bad I can't turn this in
as an english paper.