Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* This is a work of FICTION for ADULTS only. Do NOT read this if you are under 18 or if you are not an adult according to the laws of your State or Country. Do NOT read this if you are easily offended or if you are not interested in fantasies involving violence and young boys. This file contains sexually EXPLICIT material depicting sex between an adult male and young boys. The author does not condone any of the acts in this file. This story was not written to advocate sexual activity with minors. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. Please support free speech and stop censorship. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* story codes: (Mb bb snuff anal oral ped) style: contemporary THE DUNGEON MASTER by Rafe Morgan (Copyright 2012) BOOK III: THE MAZE (Scott and Rabbit) Chapter 2 For over a month that spring I had been seeking a new companion, looking in the sorts of places I had used previously, and while several prospects had caught my attention, none had seemed interesting enough, or attractive enough, to be worth a long-term effort. Scott was the exception. The boy's breathtaking looks and adventurous personality had intrigued me. It had been the worst sort of luck that circumstances had made it impossible to take him. But I told myself to be patient. Events still might conspire to make that possible if I waited for the right time. Meanwhile I was interested in pursuing something new. Scott had talked about 'playing laser tag for real.' I wondered if it could be done, and if so, could I arrange it? Were there other boys who could be recruited to such a game? That night I stayed in a motel near a site I had preselected, and despite being tired I was up late poring over the screen of my laptop, surfing the net over the motel's wireless connection. Laser tag sites were often crowded with people, and cameras, but another activity involving guns and human targets, paintball, was played in rural wooded areas, away from cameras and surveillance. I researched sites within a day's driving distance, made a list, and in the morning put the new plan into effect. Luck did not favor me right away. The first site I checked out was in the woods behind a gun shop where a tournament was in progress when I arrived. The participants were all older teens or young men, and although one or two boys were present watching, there was nothing I could do with so many other people around. I spent some time observing the action, went into the gun shop to get educated on equipment, and then moved on. The highlight of the day was a call from Scott who's first words were, "When you comin' back, Joe?" before relating his latest triumphs in the laser tag maze. That was a Sunday and for the next few schooldays I moved around, staying at different motels, sleeping late in the mornings and checking out various areas in the afternoons without finding much. Then, on Wednesday, two states away from where Scott lived, I finally hit pay dirt. I was up in the mountains and it was one of those spring days when the weather had more winter to it then summer; almost as if the change in seasons had shrugged its shoulders and given the whole thing up as a bad job. The sky was overcast, there was a chill in the air, and I had the feeling that any precipitation coming down would be sleet, not rain. None of the leaves were out yet so I could see a long way into the woods on either side when I left the van to check out an obscure paintball park from my list. The place was supposed to be on private land, so I was cautious and did not park too close, opting instead to put the van behind a screen of brush and walk in. The place appeared deserted when I got there. It lay in a cleared space and had the usual assortment of brush piles, wooden barriers and crude little huts most paintball layouts were equipped with. A big field nearby served as the parking area. After a quick look around, I almost turned to leave, but decided that having gone out of my way to check out the place, I might as well explore a bit before giving up on it, so I started into the woods, intending to make a wide counterclockwise circuit of the area. About halfway around I heard noises and stopped to listen. Coming from the paintball park, now on my left, was the sound of scurrying footsteps, and then an odd noise as if someone was imitating the sound of a gun. Cautiously, crouching to remain unobserved, I crept closer to investigate... It was a young boy. I was not close enough for an accurate guess at his age but he was slender, active, with light brown hair. The kid was dressed in blue jeans with a denim jacket, both too small on him, faded by many washings and torn at the knees and elbows. As I watched he ran in a crouch from one of the crude little huts, took shelter behind a wooden barrier and then peered around it, pointing his finger like a gun, making shooting noises. He was playing a pretend game of paintball, and as I glanced about I realized he was alone. I wanted a closer look, but there was no way to approach the boy without being seen, so I decided to try entering his game. Moving hunched over, as the boy had done, I scrambled to one of the wooden huts, hid behind it for a moment, and then stepped out in a shooter's stance. "Pow... Pow, Pow... Pow..." I yelled, pointing my finger at the boy's back. He whipped around, startled; then grinned, pointing his finger at me, making shooting noises. I ducked quickly behind the hut, emerged on the other side and pretended to shoot at him again. This time, to my delight, the boy threw up his hands, fell back and pretended to die. When I trotted over to where he lay sprawled on the dirt, he lifted his head to grin at me. "You like playin' paintball?" I asked, helping him to his feet. "Uh-huh!" His eyes were dancing with more than just excitement as he looked up at me, and now that I was up next to him I could smell both wood smoke and the pungent odor of marijuana on his torn clothing. I judged his age to be 13 or at least 12 going on 13. "Wanna play it for real?" "Sure!" "Come on with me." I started off in the direction of my van and just that easily the boy fell into step at my side. "What's your name?" I asked. "Rabbit." "Mine's Joe." When I held out a palm, the boy slid his over it; a small hand, warm and dry. Looking down at him I liked everything that I saw. Rabbit was neither pretty nor handsome, but his pleasant open features had a sort of wide-eyed innocent boy-next-door look tempered by a hint of sly, mischievous cunning. I found it very appealing. He was slender to the point of skinny and his young body had the stretched look of early adolescence; a look that I liked. I longed to put my arm around him as we walked along together, but held back not knowing how he might take it. When we reached the van he gave me a wary look and asked, "Were we goin'?" "To get you some paintball stuff," I told him, opening the side panel door. "Climb in." He hesitated, and I prepared to use force, but then he climbed up into the cargo area. After a final look around to be sure we were unobserved I followed him. Rabbit knelt on the foam padding while I slid the door shut. In the enclosed space of the van the marijuana smell from his clothing was even stronger. The boy watched as I drew my duffel bag from beneath the seats. "Come here," I told him and he crowded closer to me. With a firm shove I pushed him facedown onto the mat, pulled his arms back behind him and then used the handcuffs from my bag to fasten his wrists together. "Hey!" Rabbit kicked his feet, trying to roll away. "Quiet!" I pushed his face against the foam mat, held it so he could not breathe for awhile and then let him up. "No noise," I warned. With a leather strap from my bag I tied his ankles together, then sat where he could look at me. "Lemme go, mister!" Rabbit begged, eyes wide and frightened. "Quiet!" I ordered again. The boy's eyes widened even more, but he remained silent. "Here's the deal," I said. "Your days of ditching school and smoking weed are done. You're coming with me. I'm gonna train you as a paintball champion. You do as I tell you, you'll have money - lots of it. You don't - well, you won't last long. Think about which you want. You'll have lots of time. We got a long drive ahead of us." I patted the boy, whose eyes were still wide with fright, and climbed into the front seat. Within a few minutes we were on the road, headed for the Interstate. The drive back to my house took nearly a day and a half. We went straight through, stopping only for gas, and each time I filled up the tank I bought coffee for myself along with a soda for Rabbit. After he drank it I helped him pee into the bottle, discovering in the process that he had a smooth hairless groin with a circumcised four inch penis, barely starting to lengthen and thicken. The boy did not say a word to me during the entire trip. It was around noon when we reached my house. Once the van was in the garage with the door down, I unloaded Rabbit, first untying his ankles and then helping him out to stand up still handcuffed. With my key I unlocked his left hand, then snapped the cuffs onto my own left wrist. "Come on," I told him. Inside the basement I waved my free right arm at the weight equipment. "This is all for you. For your training." When I led the boy upstairs, I saw his eyes dart around as he took in the kitchen, the glass doors leading to the patio, and the pool outside. "When it gets warmer we'll go swimming," I said. "It's still a little cool right now." After pulling some things out of the refrigerator I started making chicken sandwiches for the two of us while Rabbit stood next to me watching. "Mister?" "Joe," I told him. "My name's Joe." His eyes flicked to mine a couple of times, then he tried again. "Joe?" "Yeah?" "How come like... Like you knew I ditched school an' stuff?" "I know a lot of stuff about you." There was a pause while he thought about it. I handed him a sandwich and from the size of the bite he took I could tell he was hungry. He chewed, swallowed, then took another bite while I poured a glass of fruit juice so he could wash everything down. When he had swallowed and his mouth was empty again he asked, "I'm gonna like stay here with you?" "Yeah. I'll take care of you." Rabbit looked out at the pool, then back at me. "I don't like gotta go t'school?" I shook my head. "Nope. You'll be training every day with me instead." For some reason this seemed to reassure him and after looking around again he said, "This is nice." "Yeah," I told him. "It is nice. And I think you're gonna like being here after you get used to it. Come on. I'll show you where you're gonna sleep." I gave the boy a cookie to chew on and he nibbled at it as we went back downstairs to the basement. After unlocking the small bedroom I led the boy inside, closed the door and while I unlocked our handcuffs I saw him glancing around. "This is nice." "Yup." I gestured at the chinning bar Jacob had used so often. "You can work out on that. There's a bathroom right in here..." I opened the connecting door for him. "Everything you need. Now - hold on a sec..." I left Rabbit, went out into the workout area, locking his door behind me, and then used my key on the big bedroom door. Inside I rummaged through the wardrobe until I found a small pair of satin workout shorts. Re-locking the room, I returned to Rabbit, holding out the shorts. "Change into these. We got plenty of time for a workout. Let's see how you do. Just dump all your clothes on the floor for now. I'll meet you down here in a few minutes and we'll get started." The boy took the shorts from me and I locked him in again before going upstairs to change into shorts myself. When I came back, opening his door, I saw that Rabbit had taken off both blue jeans and the denim jacket, but the satin workout shorts had been pulled on over a dingy pair of boxers and he still had on his battered Nikes as well as the too small blue T-shirt he had been wearing under the jean jacket. I said nothing and led him to the weight bench where he stood watching while I demonstrated a simple stretching exercise I wanted him to learn. "Very good," I said as he tried it. Actually he was terrible, but there was nothing to be gained by telling him so, and it was clear that he not only was willing to follow my lead, but also attempting to do his best. I worked with him patiently, using the opportunity to slide my hands on Rabbit's smooth legs now exposed by the removal of the blue jeans. They were just as skinny as I had suspected, but the boy's muscles were wiry and tough and his knees well formed. I thought he looked wonderful and as I showed him how to do a hurdler's stretch my palm slid along the inside of his thigh, caressing the satiny warmth. Just for fun, and to capture the boy's interest, I took him through several free weight exercises on the major muscle group using very low weight so he could learn basic form. To my surprise, he already knew a few of them. "This spic kid like showed me," he explained when I asked. "Like before he went in the Army." "You do these very well," I told him and the boy smiled up at me. After an hour on the weights I moved Rabbit to the cable machine, letting him try repetitive sets at the various stations, with enough weight to give him a challenge. I could tell he enjoyed it, and each time I praised him he gave me another beaming smile. Complementing the boy was like pouring water on a wilted plant in the desert. I wondered what sort of a life he had experienced to make him so desperate for positive recognition. Rabbit was particularly fascinated by the leg exercises, both extensions and curls. "I got like strong legs," he told me proudly. While doing the extensions he pulled the bottom edges of his satin shorts up above his groin creases so he could show me the full hard swell of muscle in his upper thighs. "Wow," I said, rubbing my palms over the silky smooth roundness. "Uh-huh." Rabbit did another extension, holding his legs out in place to flex the muscles for me. "I'm like strong there." "You sure are." My hand slid around the side of his lean hip, then down along the ropey curve of muscle. Rabbit had none of the elegant symmetry to be seen in a boy like Scott, but his taut slim body possessed a wiry beauty of its own, like the kind found in a cheetah or a greyhound. When he lay on his stomach doing leg curls the boy informed me that he liked doing them, "Cause it like makes my butt stick out." With my palm I cupped the firm muscles of his buttocks, feeling the glossy smooth skin beneath the shorts and boxers. "I'm like strong there," Rabbit informed me. "Everyone's always sayin' that my butt sticks out." "That's a good thing," I told him. "It means you can run fast, turn quick and jump high." "Uh-huh..." He was nodding. "I can run real fast. Ain't nobody can catch me ifin' I don't want 'em to." "And that's why they call you Rabbit?" "Uh-huh. I'm like quicker than anybody!" My hand remained in place, feeling the play of muscle in his butt cheeks while the boy did several more curls. "Feel good?" I asked. He nodded. "Yeah." After an hour on the cable machine I gave Rabbit a rest while he had some fruit juice. We spent the rest of the afternoon introducing him to all the exercises of the Seal Team workout on the mats. Although his form was awkward and clumsy, Rabbit was agile enough to do every one, including the difficult twisting sit ups, provided I held his feet. He fell in love with the star jumps, bouncing on the mat after I had shown him, extending slim arms and legs, begging me to watch. "Look, Joe! Look!" He kept demanding. "Okay, Hot Shot..." I picked him up to make him stop. "That's enough for now." "I can do `em good, can't I," he demanded, wrapping arms around me to hug his skinny body against mine. "Yeah..." I stroked him, my hands roving over his firm hard form, stroking through the thin fabric of his sweaty T-shirt. "Yeah, you're good all right, Hot Shot." "When we gonna' like shoot the paintball guns?" "As soon as you can do ten chin-ups on that bar in your room." "I can do that now!" Rabbit tugged at me, led me back into his room, and stood beneath the chinning bar suspended from the ceiling. His first attempt at jumping up to grab it nearly ended in disaster because his sweaty palms slipped, and he would have taken a bad spill onto the concrete floor if I had not been spotting him. "Easy does it there, Hot Dog," I said, lifting him up to the bar. Rabbit giggled, then took hold to hang suspended, skinny body dangling limply. "Watch, Joe!" With his thin arms I was sure the boy would have trouble doing more than a few chin-ups, but to my astonishment Rabbit pulled himself to the bar without apparent effort, touched his chin, dropped down and pulled back up again six more times. It was only then that his arms started to shake and he slowed down. He hung for a moment, took a breath, then did three more for me, grimacing with effort. Never once did he kick or twist his thin body to cheat. When he reached ten I thought he would stop, but after another breath and a short hanging rest, he did three more, arms shaking and body shivering with effort. As he came down off the last one I took hold of the boy, letting him sag against me. "That was really, really good," I whispered, hugging him. "I'm so proud of you." Rabbit put his arms around me to hug back. "Told ya' I could do ten!" "Yeah, you did!" My hands stroked down his slender back to pat the boy's hard little butt. Dropping to one knee in front of him, my hands on either side of his hips, I held Rabbit's eyes with my own. "That's not the reason I'm so proud of you. It's because you did more! Even when you were tired and your arms were shaking, you didn't stop. You tried for as many as you could get! I'm so proud of you, Rabbit! That's the mark of a champion! Champions never quit! They go to the limit every time, and that's just what you did!" My hands moved on the boy, caressing his hips and upper thighs, the cloth of the workout shorts and boxers sliding over the glossy smooth skin beneath. "I'm so proud of you," I told him again. The boy stared at me, eyes glowing at my praise. When I stood up, he hugged against me while I squeezed and rubbed the firm twin mounds of his butt. "Tomorrow," I promised. "Tomorrow, I'll get you paintball gear and we'll set up a target range for you." "Yeah!" Rabbit lifted his head to beam up at me and I patted his shoulders. "Go take a shower for me, Hot Shot. Get all cleaned up while I fix you something to eat. There's shampoo in there so use it. Scrub soap all over!" I helped Rabbit find everything, showed him how to work the shower controls and then, to my surprise, he allowed me to strip him, lifting his arms so I could slip off his tight shirt, then helping to remove his sneakers and push down shorts and boxers so he could step out of them. For the first time I saw my new treasure naked. My hand trembled as I got the water started for him. Rabbit was flawless, his slender body all bones and angles, yet perfect in its own way, smooth and lithe. Although I could count his ribs he was not skinny, but only lean as rawhide, with wiry muscle that shifted when he moved. His narrow tummy was flat, hard; tapering into a vee of hairless groin. The straight line of slim hips blended into Rabbit's disproportionately long slender legs, giving the boy that awkward beauty of young adolescence. More than anything I wanted to enter the shower with him, and he might have allowed it, but there was no need for haste. The boy was mine to savor for as long as I desired. I had no doubt he would come to me in time. Once the water was the right temperature I sent him into it with a final caress of his shoulder, then gathered up his clothes. "I'll leave a clean pair of shorts out for you," I called. The wardrobe in the large bedroom had a collection of things left over from other boys who had stayed with me. I took another pair of satin workout shorts, along with a gold muscle shirt slit down the sides, and left them in the bedroom. Then I went upstairs to find dinner. There was very little in the refrigerator since I had cleaned it out before leaving on my latest search trip. "What the hell," I muttered to myself and used the cell phone to order a pizza. No sooner had I switched the phone off when it rang and Scott's icon popped onto the screen. "Hey, what's up?" I answered. "Hey, Joe!" came the boy's excited reply. "What`cha doin'? Playin' laser tag?" "Yeah. I beat everybody! I had `ta leave `cause they're like closing now." "Goin' home?" "Uh-uh. My mom's like got a customer tonight. If I go home I'll have to stay in my room." "Yeah, that would suck. Now listen, Kiddo," I told him, "Don't go playin' tag with the cars just `cause you're bored. I want you in one piece when I come back to see you." "When you comin', Joe?" There was almost a note of desperation in the boy's question. "Not this week, but soon, I promise, and I want you alive and kicking!" Scott giggled. "Okay." "I got plans for us." "What, Joe? Tell me!" "When I get there. In the meantime, you take care of yourself and stay out of trouble. Does anybody know about the cell phone?" "Uh-uh!" "Don't tell anyone about that phone or about me, got it?" "I won't, Joe!" "How many minutes are left on your phone?" He told me and I nodded to myself. "Okay. When those minutes get to 100 you tell me right away, hear? "Yes, Joe." "And stay outta traffic! I don't wanna see something about a kid getting squashed by a truck on the news!" I heard Scott giggle again. "Okay. Joe, are you like comin' soon?" "Pretty soon. I gotta get some stuff done here first. Then we'll talk, okay?" "Okay." "Keep callin' Scott. I'll see you soon..." "Bye, Joe..." After switching off the phone, I turned on the news to see if there was anything about Rabbit. The national news had nothing, but there could've been a local story. I made a mental note to check in the morning and then went downstairs to find Rabbit just emerging from the shower. While I helped him get dried off I let him know there was a pizza on the way. "Oh wow!" was his happy response. He seemed quite content, standing quietly while I brushed and then combed his thick honey brown hair. When the pizza came I paid for it at the front door, then brought everything downstairs so the two of us could eat it sitting on the weight bench. "Tomorrow I'll go get the stuff," I told him. "You can help me build the target stand. We'll put it right over there." I pointed to the far wall by the door to the garage. "That's gonna be like awesome!" Rabbit had a struggle saying this as his mouth was full of pizza. I grinned at him. He was now wearing only satin workout shorts and his wiry body glistened in the light of the overhead fluorescents. I was feeling pretty tired by the time we finished eating and apparently the boy did, too, because after I had cleaned up he followed me docilely into his room. I closed the door, then turned off the light so the only illumination came from the bathroom where the ceiling fluorescent was still on. Rabbit and I lay down together on his bed, I drew a cover over us, and the boy snuggled against me while I put an arm around him. "Good?" I asked and he nodded. I hugged him, letting my free hand drift over his silky shoulders, then down the ribs on his side and onto his hip, rubbing the shiny fabric of the shorts there, feeling smooth skin beneath. "I really like you a lot, Rabbit," I whispered. "And I'm so proud of you." The boy wiggled even closer and rubbed a small hand on my shoulder. "You're nice, Joe," he whispered back. Stroking down onto the bare warmth of the boy's thigh, I pushed up under the satin shorts to cup a glossy curve of butt cheek. "You're gonna be my paintball champion," I told him, whispering it into his ear. "You're gonna be terrific. You'll see. Are you getting a little sleepy now?" Rabbit nodded, shifting position to give my hand more room to move under the shorts. "Get a good long rest," I told him, rubbing my palm back and forth on the silken roundness of his butt. "Tomorrow we'll be busy. Want me to stay with you, or you wanna sleep by yourself?" "Stay with me," Rabbit begged, hugging with his arm around my shoulder. "Course I will." My hands continued to move on the boy as I watched his eyes close. "While you go to sleep I'll tell you about Billy the Kid. I bet you've heard of him. Did you know that when he was little he used to sell newspapers on the street corners of the city where he lived? Then one day he decided t'run off and go West. He was just thirteen... same age as you. So he hopped a freight train, you could do that in those days, and one day he got all the way out to Arizona territory. He hooked up with a guy that taught him how to shoot... ----------------- End of Chapter Two -----------------