House on Lora Avenue

This is not my first writing attempt, although assuming that I manage to finish it -- and since this is the final chapter (unless there turns out to be a sequel) I guess I have. Personally I think that I'm better at thinking out the rough elements of a story rather than filling in the details, so I would like to offer my grateful thanks to my friend Mike for continuing to allow me to bounce ideas off him and providing many helpful suggestions as well as the encouragement that has actually gotten me this far. I would also like to gratefully thank all the readers who have written with comments. I really appreciate having heard from all of you.

It should be easy to figure out by this point that has turned into a love story. It has, does and will contain graphic depictions of sex between young males and not necessarily always consensual, so if you're some sort of puritan or prude, you ought not to be at this site to begin with, and you certainly shouldn't read any farther into this text at all. Shoo, go away.

If you're not, which if you're now reading this sentence now, you had better not be. I hope you'll enjoy this. This story is set in a mythical place along the coast of North Carolina, where there are no such things as STDs or deity-of-your-choice forbid HIV or AIDS. Not only does the place where this is set not exist, but I suppose I should point out that neither do any of the characters. They are all completely made up and bear no intentional resemblance to anyone, living or dead (well actually the crazy old lady, `Mama' is loosely based on an old woman I once knew -- but the only strays she took in were cats). This should not in any way be construed as advocating unsafe sex, incest or forcing one's self upon another, although all these things are going to be portrayed in this story. It sort of started out with a bang, but for the more mild-mannered of you, have no fear it isn't going to be all sex, though there will be a fair share of it going on.

Some assembly may be required, batteries are not included, use only under close adult supervision. Do not remove this tag under penalty of law. If swallowed, do not induce vomiting. Some settling may occur in shipment. List each check separately by bank number. Use only as directed. No other warranty expressed or implied. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Postage is due upon receipt. This is not an offer to sell securities. Apply only to affected areas. Do not fold, bend, spindle, staple or mutilate. For recreational use only. Do not modify or redistribute this text, or show it to any religious zealots or anyone else who will be horribly offended by it without my express written consent.

The House on Lora Avenue Chapter Fourteen

The pool party was a blur at best for all the boys as they woke up the next morning. When they woke up, there were six of them in the king-sized bed that Ben was used to sleeping in by himself at Adam's house. In the bed were Ben, Jamie, Tim, Andrew and two other boys (both younger) from the party the day before. They all woke up at nearly the same time, and all had the same problem -- they all had semen leaking from their asses, and they all had a feeling of disorientation. It was all too clear that none of their clothes were in the room with them, but no one felt like saying anything about it.

Another thing that Ben noticed was that there was blood on the sheets. Not just a little either. Most of it seemed to be concentrated around the two younger boys in the bed with them, but there was also some where Andrew was.

The two younger boys were both very frightened, and the older boys did what they could to calm them. "We'll figure out what happened," Ben told them. Then he herded them all into the large shower that was attached to the `studio' bedroom so they could all wash up, while allowing him to keep as much control as possible over the situation. They found three more boys in the bed in the studio room, all about fourteen or fifteen years of age. One of the boys was tied to the bed face down and had a dildo protruding from his ass. Ben woke up the other two and sent them into the shower as well, then slowly eased out the dildo from the other one. As he was removing the toy, the boy woke up, clearly panicked. Ben shushed him, and untied him. He told the boy what little he could about what he had found, and then sent him into the bathroom to get cleaned up.

When they had finished washing up, they all walked out into the living room, still naked and looking to see where their clothes might be. There were more naked boys lying on the couch and the on the floor. There was one other boy, who looked only to be about thirteen years old on a lounge chair by the pool outside. As Ben approached him, he noticed how pale and still the boy was. Ohmygod,' he thought, It can't be what I think it is.' He went over and shook the boy's shoulder. The skin was quite cold to his touch, and the boy didn't respond at all. Ben was stunned, looking at the childlike dead face. Contrary to what he had always heard, the young face didn't look very peaceful in death either. The large pool of blood under the lounger the boy was lying upon finally registered in his mind. Ben was suddenly overwhelmed by what he had found. He vomited until he was coughing up nothing more than bile. He wished he had parents he could run to. Life had just gotten a lot bigger than he was used to coping with.

Ben spotted a large pile of clothes lying next to the poolside bar, dug his own out of it and got dressed. He felt the little Derringer still in the pocket of his shorts. He pulled it out and checked it -- the second barrel was still loaded, but with the very large .410 round, which almost completely filled the barrel of the little weapon.

He saw that a video camera was still set up on a tripod on the pool deck and went over to it. He needed to see what had been filmed on that camera. He let it rewind all the way before he began playing it back. What he saw made him sick once again, but his stomach had emptied, and all he could do was cough up more bile. It was a film of all the boys; including himself being fucked by, and sucking all the men that had been at the party the day before. He was shocked enough by what he was watching that he didn't even notice that some of the other boys had come over where he was and were watching too.

As Ben watched the film on the camera's tiny view screen, an even more shocking image appeared. It was the dead boy, being fucked by two men at the same time. One of the men fucking the boy was Adam. So,' Ben thought Adam is directly responsible for killing him.' The man had not simply supplied the means for the boy's death, he had actively participated.

"I'm not letting him get away with this," was all that left Ben's lips. Andrew was staring in horror at the dead boy.

He told all the other boys to get dressed, which they all did quickly enough. When they were done, Ben got the spare set of keys to Adam's car and asked Jamie to drive all the other hustler boys away to wherever they were staying while he, Tim and Andrew took care of cleaning things up around the house. Jamie was happy enough to oblige. The boy hustlers were all frantic to escape this house of death, pain and humiliation. Even through the disorientation caused by the drug they had been given in their drinks the afternoon before; they knew that they had to get away from this place. Andrew was crying and shaking on Tim's shoulder. Ben, on the other hand, felt supremely clear-headed and determined, despite the lingering effects of the ketamine. Deep inside Ben there had awoken not just courage, but an instinct for vengeance. Vengeance particularly for the nameless boy dead on the patio, a boy who -- if the world were a better place -- should have been cuddled up to his mom this morning or at a sleepover with his high school friends. Ben had taken too much shit from life and from Adam. It was payback time.

After Jamie left with the tightly-packed car load of hustler boys, the remaining three teens cleaned up what they could around the house under Ben's direction, without entering Adam's room. They put the sheets from the bed they had slept in into the washing machine, and poured bleach over all the blood and semen stains that they were able to find. As they were finishing up, Adam came walking out wearing an open bathrobe, showing that he was once again naked underneath.

Ben lost control when he saw him, and called him an evil bastard who had sold them all to his porno business friends. Adam did not deny this at all. In fact, he simply shrugged it off as if there were nothing wrong with the idea. This infuriated Ben that much more. He had reached the breaking point.

"You are an absolute fucking dick," Ben told him. "One of those kids bled to death out there from the fucking that you assholes gave to him last night."

"Not my problem," Adam responded. "You're all just a bunch of little whores when it comes right down to it. You kids were born to be used." Adam's sense of responsibility not only for the underage orgy he had orchestrated, but for his role in the boy's death made Ben that much madder.

Ben's mind completely snapped. His mind was a blaze of red, not only for himself, his friends and the other boys they had woken up with, but also for the young boy that he had found out by the pool, dead that morning. He reached into the pocket of his shorts and brought out the little gun. He pointed it straight at Adam's face, his hand shaking slightly from the rage that he felt.

Adam gave a smug smile; he had missed the wake-up call. He was still used to getting his way from the boys that he picked up and brought home. He really couldn't even conceptualize that this was going to be any different. "Give that to me," he said, reaching out for the gun in Ben's hand.

"Bite me, you miserable piece of fuck," Ben said as he let loose the one remaining round in the little gun.

It was obvious that Adam was dead even before he hit the ground. The massive amount of damage done from the large caliber round hitting him squarely in the face would have made that quite clear to anyone who might have been looking.

Andrew and Tim simply stared in shock at the outcome of the exchange between Adam and Ben until Ben gave them some orders. He had killed the bastard and was glad he had done so. "Go inside and collect all the cameras and video equipment you can find, and then take it into the kitchen. We're going to need to take it with us when Jamie gets back with the car."

Jamie dropped the other boys off at a cheap hotel near the Oar House where they told him they were staying. As they got out of the car, one of the boys told him that they would be moving on to some other place as quickly as possible, and suggested to Jamie that he and his friends do the same. Jamie told the boy that they had no intention of staying either. Then he turned the Town Car around and headed back to Ashton Hills...

When Jamie got there, he wasn't quite ready for what he found. When he entered the living room, he saw Adam lying on the floor in a massive pool of blood, his head literally having exploded from the gunshot. Jamie actually went into shock at what he was seeing, and Ben gave him a slap to bring him back to reality. "We all need to have clear heads right now, dude. We can't afford to make any mistakes in this."

"What happened to him?" Jamie asked, still looking in shock at Adam's body.

"He was one of the guys that killed the kid at the pool," Ben explained. "They literally fucked him to death, and he didn't care. He said we were all just a bunch of little whores to be used however he wanted. I couldn't let him get away with it."

Jamie snapped out of the shock that he was feeling, and asked Ben where the gun was. Ben took it out of the pocket of his shorts and handed it to Jamie. "Go wash your hands and arms," Jamie told him, remembering some of the TV shows he'd seen about forensic evidence. "Use some bleach and scrub really well to get any residue from the gun off." Then he jogged down to the beach and threw the gun as hard as he could into the surf.

The four boys loaded up all of the video equipment and Ben's belongings into the car. Ben went into Adam's bedroom, and returned with a small duffel bag which contained all of Adam's jewelry and cash. He hadn't taken time to count it, but in a small open safe there was what seemed to be at least thirty or forty thousand dollars. It would certainly come in handy making their getaway.

The boys took Adam's car again, and drove to Lora Avenue. When they got there, Mama wasn't there, but her son and daughter were. "Where's Mama?" Tim asked.

"She's in the hospital, and it doesn't look like she'll be back any time soon," the man told them. "We don't know what kind of deal you had with her here, but you're going to have to clear out of here."

"That's okay," Jamie said. "We were just coming by to get our stuff and leave anyway."

Andrew wasn't quite as satisfied with the hospital answer. "What's wrong with her?" he asked.

"She's having some mental problems, that's all you need to know," the woman told them.

"Hey, I'm just asking. She was nice to us, you know?" Andrew didn't really like the way these two had always treated them, and their mother either for that matter.

"She's been committed," the man told them. "Where did you get the car?" he asked, changing the subject.

"It's my dad's," Ben lied. It seemed like the most reasonable way to end any questions that he really didn't want asked at the moment.

"Well, if you were leaving anyway, why don't you guys just get packed up and go?" The woman's daughter sure could be a real bitch.

The boys were in no mood to continue the conversation anyway, so they went to their room and got their things together. The woman followed them and watched them pack up their belongings. "So, where are you going?" she asked them.

Ben was the only one who really had a plan, but he wasn't about to share the truth with this woman. "Virginia," he answered. "My parents have a beach house there."

When they had put all their things into the trunk of the Lincoln, they pulled away from the house on Lora Avenue for the last time. Ben was driving, Tim was sitting in the front seat with him, and Jamie and Andrew sat in the back seat. "We're going to Virginia?" Tim asked.

"Nope, but I don't want them to know that," Ben told them. "Actually we're going south, to Florida." He finally let them in on the plan. "They're going to find Adam sooner or later," he explained. "When that happens, we might somehow get connected to it. If that happens, I don't want them looking for us where we're really going." It was when Ben said this to them that the enormity of the situation they were in really hit home with the other three boys. Two murders had been committed, and they were all terribly implicated in not just one, but both, simply by the way they had covered things up and destroyed evidence at the scene.

A few minutes later, the car merged into traffic on I-95, heading south toward Florida. Ben and Tim chatted idly, although the events of the last several hours did not come up at all - somehow they found it hard to talk in even vague terms about what they were fleeing, but talking at least meant they were still together, still attached at least to one person who loved them. Jamie and Andrew cuddled up together in the back seat and quietly napped - their young bodies and minds trying to find temporary peace. The future was not something any of them wanted to think about just now.

This is the end of `The House on Lora Avenue.' There are other stories coming up down the road. I really hope that you have all enjoyed the story. Comments and feedback are welcome at t_macd@comcast.net (I will /try/ to all answer e-mails sent to me, but please realize that my job requires me to travel a great deal, so it might take a while and I don't promise to answer everyone), flamers will be ignored by me, but will meet with an untimely and horrible demise as the result of the curse of the old gypsy woman who lives across the lake from me, and has inexplicably taken a liking to me. I think I've even seen her watching me through her rear window with binoculars as I sit on my deck in my boxers writing this. Wow, that thought makes me more and more uncomfortable.

• • • Author's Note * * *

This is the end of The House on Lora Avenue, or is it? My good friend, editor and proof reader has been pressing me for a sequel, and I'll tell you now that he has been convincing enough that it is in the works, though nothing has escaped the canyons of my mind and made it to the keyboard just yet. So far there are two others coming before you'll see the sequel though, so be on the lookout for "Chris and Aaron" which is a fact-based account of one of my first sexual experiences, which will be complete in two parts, and "Brandon and Alex" - another completely fictional tale.