Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 If the following story is real in any way, I offer my sincere pity to the
participants and urge them to seek counseling.  The following work is a
piece of fiction in a world without diseases, where people are free to care
about each other, and to destroy each other.

   The following text should not be read by anyone who isn't ready for it,
and I will take no responsibility for anyone catching you with it.  It may
be freely passed around so long as this entire introduction is kept intact,
and that it does not appear, in any fashion or method, on a site that takes
money for membership or benefits.  I retain full rights to any other form
of publication, and it may not appear in any compilation or other printed
form, aside from a single copy for the reader to enjoy at their leisure.

   The story contains graphic sexual encounters between adults and
children; or at least what the law recognizes as being children.  All
participants are of what any objective scientist would consider to be of an
'adult' grouping, IE they have all reached sexual maturity.

   It deals with the darkest of human actions, that of rape, of
manipulation, of greed and the journeys through a world that can be at
times cold and uncaring, but can be adjusted by the actions of others into
a better place.  In other words, it is a fantasy.  The author neither
condones nor encourages such activities; and reading this story in certain
locations is against the law.

   I was inspired to write this story from reading a few news stories, and
from reading some of the vast collection of erotica on http://www.asstr.org
If they could go to such lengths to create, maintain and expand such an
archive, I could do my bit and add to the pile.  If you liked this story,
the best way you can demonstrate it is by donating to asstr.org.  Your
applause is nice, put your money where your hands are.

   If you have any comments, post them onto the alt.sex.stories.d board, or
wait until I have a comment form up on asstr.org (pending approval, of
course.) Address the comments to me, I'll be looking.

   FastCat

   **> The following story is (c) 2004 by Fastcat, all rights are reserved.
Reposting is permitted so long as the above notice is included.  **<

   The Village in the Wooded Glen Written by FastCat Version 1.0 February
2004

   **> Part Three: Thomas' story <**

   Like any well to do family, Thomas' sex education was a hodgepodge of
locker-room gossip, pornography and the advice from the hired help.  The
maid and the pool boy put together the mechanical pieces for the boy having
done the full Monte while he hid in the pool room.  But aside from casual
interest, he really didn't care much.

   Gayness wasn't something hidden in his family; his openly gay uncle was
a source of family humor.  When Thomas acted up in front of his father, the
joke was that if Thomas didn't straighten out, he'd send the boy to see how
straight his uncle could make him, or at least part of him.  And it got
laughs, because his uncle preferred fat hairy older types.  Perhaps his
uncle's boyfriends might take an interest in the small boy, but in his
uncle's arms, he'd be perfectly safe.

   And then long came the fateful dream, the stained sheets, and the maid
who found the whole thing completely charming.  Once she knew he was
'functional', she took to giving him flashes of underwear-less crotch
peeking out from under too short skirts, spilled water on sheer white
blouses and the rest.  He appreciated the view, but was more than a bit
bored looking at older women; he could have better looking ones on the
computer in his room, or by visiting the library and his father's extensive
magazine collection.

   The maid found her efforts to be lacking and decided to take things more
in hand.  She'd grab at his crotch, walk in while he was in the bathroom or
was changing from swimming.  She'd come to tuck him in at night, being sure
to repeatedly pat the little lump in the sheets.  When that didn't spark
any explorations by the boy, she got even more direct.

   The first day of summer break, she walked into his bedroom stark naked,
pulled down his sheets, and took his morning hard on into her mouth,
proceeding to give him his first wide awake orgasm with expert use of
suction and tongue.  And once he was done, and still hard, she got up on
the bed and mounted him, putting his cock into her wet snatch and began
riding him roughly.  She pulls his hands up and rubbed them against her
breasts, and it wasn't long before her fucking brought both of them over
the edge.

   She left the room, he went and pissed, and the ritual was repeated for
several days in a row.  Outside of the bedroom, they treated each other
with little reaction, but in the bedroom, he awoke in the same fashion each
day.  This continued for a couple weeks, and then the maid stopping coming,
much to the boy's relief.

   Yeah, the acts felt good enough and all, much better than his hand the
night before, but there was such a mechanical awkwardness to the whole
thing, plus her weight, that just, well, didn't do much for him, aside from
the obvious biological reaction.

   A few weeks later, she returned to her morning ritual, and again, it
continued for a time then stopped.  He didn't quite know what to do about
it, so he let it happen as it happened.  A month later, the maid was
screaming at his father in the study, and he was screaming back twice again
as loud.  Something about a bastard growing up, and lots of yelling about
money.

   His father confronted him, wondering what the boy was thinking when he
decided to get the maid pregnant.  The boy was confused, and wondered how a
kid could get a woman pregnant - isn't that what father do?  A long
discussion ensued, and Thomas got the other side of the story, such as
things about sperm and eggs.  And he found out that the maid got pregnant
from her morning visits.

   Thomas asked his father if that meant that the maid would finally be
leaving, and that she'd stop jumping him in bed each morning.  His father
was taken aback and asked if the boy wanted such a thing to continue. 
Thomas shook his head violently and said uh-uh.  With a little prompting,
the maid's actions were fully exposed.

   The next fight with the maid had Thomas in attendance, and the maid was
told in no uncertain tones that she was fired, if she tried to contact the
family again, charges would be filed, and she'd best find another line of
work, because quiet whispers would be made to any future employer.

   The maid howled and screamed and protested that since she was having
Thomas' baby, they had to support her.  She appealed directly to the boy,
asking him if he wanted his baby to grow up in squallier.  He had just
shrugged at the time, not fully understanding what was going on, and
really, just wanting the screaming to end.  The maid left the next morning
in tears, the rest of the house staff looking daggers after her.

   And then Thomas went off to camp and forgot about the matter.  Well, not
forgot, just put it away from his mind, as a child would put away the night
horrors when the dawn came.

   The horrors reappeared a couple days prior when he was waiting for the
car for the return home after school, and the much aged maid walked up and
presented the boy with his son.

   *>

   Thomas stared into the flames in silence, his hand still wandering
around me, though by this time I was absolutely deflated at the tale. 
After a time, five minutes or so, he continued with the most recent
information.

   "The body was so light," he said quietly, "and not like other babies I
had seen.  He was small, like me, but white in color.  Not like white
people, but like freshly laundered sheets." His hand dropped down to grip
my leg tightly and he huddled against it like a cold breeze had come up
suddenly.  "And he was cold.  The maid, she said that she couldn't afford
the right medicines, and no one wanted to help her, and that Tommy was lost
during the night.  I didn't really understand, and security at the school
finally came over to take the woman away, and to take the baby from me."

   He sighed and laid his head against my knee.  "I didn't say anything to
father, I didn't want him mad at her.  There was a phone call for me just
before I went to bed, and the man on the other side of the line wanted to
know what I thought about the woman who let my son die.  He was some
reporter, fishing for quotes for a scandal against my father, and I didn't
know that at the time.  I said that the baby was fine, I had held it the
day before, and the reporter told me that Tommy had died the night before
and the woman had handed me a corpse."

   He shuddered and my hand rested lightly on his head, running through his
drying hair.  I had no idea what to say.

   "The police came the next morning, after the story ran in the papers, to
talk to father about the maid.  After they left, my father told me that I
would be going to camp a little early this year, and that I'd be staying
for the summer.  There would likely be a trial, but I wasn't needed for it,
since they could establish I was the father from the body of my son.  He
told me that she was a horrible woman for doing what she did."

   Again the silence stretched out.  The flames snapped, the woods were
alive, but it was all muted by the story.  Finally, I said, "I'm sorry..  I
didn't know, I shouldn't have done that to you, not after all you'd been
through."

   He snapped his head around and stared me right in the eye.  "Do what to
me?  Be the first person I wanted to have fun with?  You didn't do anything
I didn't want to do, unless you count wanting to do more, and you'd best be
willing to..  Sometime.  Soon, I hope.  She raped me, over and over again,
so that she could get her hands on our money.  She used me, and she made a
baby for the express purpose of having a hook.  And what was worse, she
named it after me.  I wish she was on the rifle range, I'd have the whole
group shoot her full of holes.  See if she could make a baby out of that."

   And then he started crying, and I carried him into the sleeping lodge,
flipping out my bed with a deft move of the foot, and we spent the night
holding each other, and mourning the life of a baby boy cut short by an
evil woman.

   *>

   The next morning, I e-mailed David a brief summary about what had
happened.  I felt a bit guilty about sharing the boy's secrets with him,
and a bit weird admitting sucking the boy off, but at the time it seemed
right.  David's reply came back rather swiftly, saying that Thomas was
excused from all camp activities until such time as both of us felt he was
ready to return to them.  And that he'd quietly make the village off limits
to all.

   Thomas finally woke up with a groan when I waved a freshly charbroiled
cheeseburger in front of his face.  He took a bite of the large sandwich
and then set aside the plate, stumbling out-side bare assed, and apparently
pissing on the nearby shrubs.  It took a hell of a lot of willpower not to
blandly comment to him when he returned about how gauche he was.

   It turned out that his hangover wasn't too horrible, and a couple of
aspirins abated the lingering effects.  We were both quiet, the music was
doing it's own thing, and I spent much of the time on the computer handling
make-work tasks.

   Finally Thomas walked gingerly over to me, now bathrobed, and sat down
beside me, looking over at the screen and he asked quietly what I was
doing.

   "Trying to arrange for someone to break the maid out of jail and to
bring her to the rifle range," I replied.  "I was considering the color of
her blindfold."

   He sighed and cuddled up against me.  "Nahh, don't do that.  The blood
would attract too many bugs, and someone would have to go to the trouble of
getting rid of the body.  She's not worth it."

   I nodded, "You're right, she's not.  You are, though." He punched me
lightly in the arm.

   "So, you're the new kiddie molester, huh?" he asked with a smart-assed
grin.

   "How did you guess," I replied.  I figured that the kids at the camp
knew exactly what was up anywhere at any moment.  Ask three kids, and you
could likely identify the sexual preference of every councilor, who they
were seeing, and when.

   It was a rhetorical question, but he piped up with the answer anyway. 
"Mr.  Gunderson wasn't here this year, and you're alone in this lodge which
is obviously outfitted to sleep more than one.  Which makes you the
'special' councilor."

   I chuckled and asked, curious, "Do the other kids give those who go off
with the 'special group' any trouble?"

   He shrugged his shoulders.  "They didn't last year, and I never heard of
any stories of that ever happening.  Most of them have figured out what
happens, and they're ok with some needing something extra at camp.  Though
it is funny when someone rips a loud one and the guys all cringe and say to
stop callin' for Mr.  Gunderson.  A boy from my group was in the overflow
cabin last year, and aside from sometimes sitting a bit gingerly, he seemed
perfectly happy." He snuggled up against me, "just like you're making me."

   I laughed and ruffled his hair.  "Give a kid some booze, and they're
your friend for life."

   He chuckled at that too, and then got a serious look in his face. 
"Thanks for listening," he said, "and for not treating me like I was some
alien.  I really needed that." He hugged me and then started over to where
his clothes were stashed, tossing over his shoulder, "and for the booze." I
threw my robe after him and changed into some clothing myself.

   When we stepped outside, he looked around and asked what time it was,
because the sun was high.  "About noon or so," I responded, heading towards
the toilet tipi.  "And time for me to scrub the hair off my teeth." He
followed me in, and we both used the toilets, meeting back at the central
pedestal.  The invisibles had everything set out, like normal; kids really
didn't need to bring a single thing to camp, everything would be supplied.
A new toothbrush with his name was waiting along with a favored brand and
flavor of toothpaste.  We cleaned our hands and our teeth in silence,
spitting at just about the same time.  A quick gargle and we were both fit
to be called human again.

   As we stepped out, he wondered why he wasn't returned to his group. 
"Well," I answered, "do you think that the other kids would have
appreciated a hung over Thomas among them this morning?  Can you imagine
how quickly your friends would overrun this place?  Quick, party at the
village, get drunk off your ass, get a piece of ass, and stumble to the
table in the morning.  I'd not get a bit of peace around here if that
happened."

   He chuckled at the image and then pressed the issue, "No, really, why?"

   I debated giving him another smart off answer and instead opted for the
truth.  "I didn't think you were ready to go back, so you're excused from
your group until I do think you're ready.  You could end up being stuck
with me for the whole summer!"

   "Hmm.  Let's see.  Booze, an awesome shower, a hot tub, and a warm floor
in the morning?  Was that a threat or a promise," he challenged me.

   "I admit it is nice here..  So I suppose that isn't much of a threat
after all..  You want to return to your group?  I could drive you over
now..."

   "No," he replied quickly.  "Besides, remember, I drive."

   "Ahh," I said with a laugh, "those who drive don't drink, so I suppose
that was the last of your boozing days here."

   He got serious and sighed, "A couple days..  if that's ok."

   "However long you need.  I'm here to talk, to listen, or to just be out
of the way."

   "What if I want more," he asked.

   "It depends," I replied seriously.  "If you do, you'll likely let me
know.  If not, I won't be chasing you around the glade."

   He nodded his head and headed over to the fire ring and turned on the
flames.  I swept the path for a time, watching him sit and watch the heat
shimmer in the afternoon breeze, then went inside to contemplate how to
make a medicine bag in a day; and more curiously, what on earth to put into
it.

   *>

   The food appeared outside just about as soon as Thomas came in to ask me
about dinner.  We shared the meal in companionable silence, only by the
light of the flames.  After dinner, we retired into the sleeping lodge and
he requested one of those grasshoppers, and I relented, making it a small
one out of a double tall shot glass.

   He drank it and fell asleep in my bed, quietly snoring, and I sat and
worked on his bag until I felt sleepy.  I slipped into bed with him and we
cuddled throughout the rest of the night.

   *>

   Morning found me with my hand on a small hard on, my hard cock pressing
between the boy's asscheeks, and a grinning boy looking at me over his
shoulder.  "Morning," he said.

   I gave his cock a squeeze and replied, "I could tell.  Shall we race to
the commode?"

   "Aww, come on, don't you want to see me take a piss through this thing?
We could see who can piss the farthest or longest?"

   I laughed, "What do I win if we do?"

   "The winner gets to choose what to do today; that's pissing the
farthest. The longest gets to massage the loser."

   "Seems like the loser in that one is the winner in the end," I replied.
"How about the longest gets a massage, the loser rubbing wherever the
winner tells them to."

   He shrugged his shoulders and flipped over the sheet.  "Come on then, I
gotta piss like a fucking horse." I followed his bubble butt out the flap
and we aimed ourselves at the trees.  A secret; when I got a hard on, I
barely get a trickle out, and my bladder just calls it a day after a minute
or so of trying.  So I was pretty sure that the boy would determine what
happens today, and would be directing a massage at some point.

   He watched as my golden spray finally started, his was easily out
distancing myself.  And damn, did he get up in the middle of the night and
drink a gallon of water?  Because he was still pissing long after I was
done.

   "I'm the winner!" he shouted out with glee, and he danced naked around
me, poking me in the chest and back while chanting about how I was a
Lou-Zer.  I admit it, if he had kept that up for another minute, I was
going to bend him in half, shove his dick into his mouth, and toss him like
a bowling ball down a hillside.

   Luckily for both of us, he didn't push it too far.

   "Ok, smart ass, aside from standing around outside naked all day, what
do you want to do?"

   He got quiet for a bit and thought about it.  "Funny thing is," he said
after a while.  "What I really want to do is just, well, lay back and veg.
Watch some funny movies.  But I don't think there's any televisions
anywhere nearby, and we're lacking videos."

   "We're not lacking either," I stated.  I led him back inside and popped
the top of one of the chests, exposing the LCD display.  "Videoes are
computer controlled, but you name the type, I probably got it."

   He smirked and said he wanted to see a porno.  I asked him what kind. 
He replied that he wanted to see the regular kind.  I asked boy on boy,
girl on girl, boy on girl, boy and boy on girl, girl and girl on boy...  I
left it hanging, so to speak.  There was a glimmer of an idea in his mind.
"Oh!" he said.  "Duh, I feel stupid - of course you'd have all of that, I
could probably specify age range and species of animal.  I guess that type
of thing would be your tools for getting into a kid's pants."

   "I didn't need such tools to get into yours," I pointed out, just a bit
hurt by the comment.

   He considered that.  "No, you didn't.  Boy on girl, something that I'd
find on the Playboy channel - no, strike that, I wanna see dicks and
pussies, something a little beyond that, but nothing gross."

   His wish was my command, and I popped up one that I thought would work.
They were all shorts; ranging from blow jobs to heavy fucking to tit
fucking, and even a bit of ass fucking.  The last didn't really interest
Thomas, but the rest did.  It took a hell of a lot of willpower not to ask
if he needed any help with that when he started to jack off.

   He blew his load over his chest and was still pounding on his meat, so I
decided if I couldn't beat him, I'd join him, and I tried to quickly catch
up.  I had just laid back and closed my eyes, ready for the explosion, when
I heard him tell me to STOP!

   I let go of my cock, which was bobbing up and down due to how close I
had been and stared at him between panting breaths.  He got a wicked look
on his face and he moved over to me, getting onto the floor and pushing on
my knees to spread them.  I did, watching what he was doing, and he moved
up close to inspect me.

   His eyes traveled up and down my length, then down to my sack, and he
reached out and played with my pubic hair.  A dollop of pre-cum started
dripping down my shaft and he reached out a finger to gather it, looking up
to my eyes as he stuck the finger into his mouth.  "Tasty," he declared,
and he licked his lips.  Little bastard.

   He then brought out his tongue and started licking right where the root
meets the balls, a small hand wrapped around to hold my shaft still.  The
fucker was driving me nuts.  I was close to begin with, and here he was
licking probably my most sensitive spot, but doing it so lightly as to be
maddening.  I told him so, almost (hell, what almost) begging him to lick
harder, and to move his hand.

   He smiled up at me, and went back to his teasing.  I don't know how long
he kept me like that, I was trying to thrust into his hand after not too
long, and failed miserably.  It had been days since I'd cum and I really
wanted to.  Finally he started working up my shaft, again, doing it too
fucking lightly.  But he was getting a good tongueful of pre-cum along the
way, I was drooling like a mental patient.

   When he reached my piss slit, my ass was off the couch, trying to shove
my cock down his throat, but he kept his distance just far enough away to
make it impossible to reach satisfaction.  He kept snaking out his tongue,
gathering the pre-cum that was bubbling out of the slit.  My dick felt like
it was going to burst just from the blood pressure, and I was seriously
gasping for air.

   He let go of my dick, moved his head away, and smiled at me like the
little shit he was.  "Maybe I'll take care of that tomorrow," he said to
me, and I dropped my ass in shock.  Perhaps I should just turn that boy
over and see what happens when I try to shove my cock up his ass..  Least
that was what I was considering at the moment.  I was just about to really
start begging when he turned to look towards the flap suddenly, and my head
whipped up to follow his gaze.

   No one was there, but HOLY SHIT!  He had his mouth on the head of my
cock, licking like a banshee, and his hand was pumping up and down like a
dying man pumping a well for a drink of water.  In seconds, I was erupting
into his mouth, across his face, across his chest, over his hand, onto his
tongue, all over the couch.  I actually blacked out, I had held my breath
so long as I came, my dick quivering on it's own, my hips thrusting
anywhere and nowhere at the same time.

   A while later, I woke up to find out that he was sitting on my bladder,
sticking to my chest with the glue of cum - his too, apparently, and in
urgent need of taking a piss.  I scooted him off of me, and I stumbled out
of the lodge and over to the bathroom.  I was still letting lose a long
stream of urine when I heard him pad up next to me, and his stream joined
mine in trying to flush the toilet by overfilling it.

   As the last trickles were squeezed out into the now dark yellow water,
he grinned and looked up at me.  "You're a fucking disaster," he stated
bluntly.  Dried cum was all over my chest, sticking throughout my pubic
hair, and he wasn't much better.

   "Oh yeah?  I don't have cum in my hair," I pointed out reasonably.

   He laughed.  "Shower time!" he said brightly and he padded his way out
of the tent.

   The water was already going when I entered, steam quickly forming as the
water hit the rock hoppers.  I was trying to find him in the dimness when I
heard a crack and a stinging sensation on my ass.  I whipped around and
found a grinning Thomas holding the offending towel that would certainly
leave a mark.

   What followed could easily be described as a roughhouse shower, and I
really wished that the floor was a lot softer, because once you soap up
that monkey, even with the constant rain, he was as slippery as an eel.  We
finally wore eachother out and retreated, soaking, from the shower and by
mutual decision, ended up in the hot tub where a nice meal was waiting for
us.  I swear, one of these days, I'm going to find out who those invisibles
are and pledge my undying love to them.

   When we were properly pruned, fed and sleepy, we retired to my bed,
watching a Disney cartoon and holding each other.  When it ended, I fondled
him for a bit, then sucked his little dick into my mouth, using my tongue
to force the uncircumcised skin about, something I really enjoyed.  He did
too, because it wasn't long before he was spurting into my mouth, and
knowing that he does doubles, I kept at it until I got my second reward.

   That was about the only time he'd ever stay still, once he shot the
second time, he was all over me, putting kisses and bites from my eyebrows
to the tip of my toes.  I didn't last more than a minute when he finally
decided to attack my cock with force, and he cleaned up the spillage with
the corner of a bathrobe before we cuddled up to sleep.

   *>

   Morning came with the smell of bacon, and after a morning piss-off, we
chowed down.  I was on my second cup of coffee when he said that he'd like
to rejoin his group now.  Ahh, hell, I was really ready to spend my summer
with the boy, and here he was ready to leave.  Fuck.  Well, shit, I was
there to make his life easier, not the other way around.  I shrugged and
said, sure, but I'd need to renew my life insurance before I had him drive
us over to his group.

   He grinned, got dressed and so did I.  I kept wanting to ask him why he
wanted to leave, yet kept chickening out.  When all was ready and his
clothes packed, he trapped me into a bear hug, his arms trying to squeeze
me out of existence, and he said into my chest, "Thank you."

   I felt a lot better after that, and we joked all the way to his group's
cabin with him taking wide turns at the wheel to 'scare' me at a whole five
miles an hour.  When we got there, I handed over a medicine bag, which he
looked at for a minute, then up at me.

   "Why is it empty," he asked.

   "You want the long winded and dumb sounding Indian explanation?" I asked
him.

   He shook his head and again peered into the little sack with a beaded
bear on the outside.  He looked at me again, seeking the short answer.

   "You're healthy, you don't need any medicine yet.  If you start to feel
bad, come see me, and we'll find something to go in there."

   And if I had thought I had seen a wide smile from him before, I was
wrong.  I should have had the camp nurse check to see if he had broken any
of my rubs with the crushing hug, and again I was rewarded with a quiet
"thank you." It was with more than a little regret that I watched him go
into the cabin and be greeting by his group mates.  I shifted into the
driver's seat and took the return path at full throttle; all of ten miles
an hour or so..

   I was just pouring myself a drink when there was a scratch at the flap
of the lodge, and I curtly told the person to enter.  It was David, with a
bottle of good scotch.  "Care to help me empty this," he asked.  I left the
cheaper stuff sit in the glass and found a couple new ones.

   "Yeah, David, I don't mind helping at all.  Is the whole summer going to
be a rollercoaster like this one?"

   He shrugged his shoulders, poured a handful for each of us, and offered
the glass in toast.  We clinked and he intoned, "I hope so."
   **> END OF STORY <**