Pop

The following is a work of fiction and is the property of the author.

If you are looking to get off quick, read something else. This story is presented in serial form and you'll read a lot of background, before you get any mind-blowing sex scenes. If you are bothered by same sex relationships, read no farther.

This is a story about the inter-relationships of males of differing ages. It's a story with some sex, not sex with some story.

Pop

Chapter 5

It was just one of the standard questions, but as soon as I heard it, a bell went off in my head. If that had not been enough, Tom's hesitation in answering gave me all the reinforcement I needed to know I had the answer.

"Have you ever thought about or attempted suicide ?" Betty Grolier repeated. The pause in response had caused her to look up and across the table at Tom. He was starting to very slowly shake his head instead of speaking. I reached over from where I sat beside him and lightly rubbed his shoulder. He turned his head in surprise and looked at me.

"You know ?" he asked quietly, but it was almost a statement rather than a question. I nodded as his eyes searched mine. He started to cry. I leaned toward him with my arms extended and he moved into them, putting his head against my shoulder.

"It's all right, Tom." I said to him quietly. "Let all the guilt out. It's not your fault." I noted Betty Grolier had the good sense to sit quietly and let these events unfold without interfering. I held Tom, lightly stroking up and down his back and let him calm down. I couldn't help thinking how this teenager, who in so many ways gave the impression of being a man was still only 14 years old. "Do you think you're ready to share with Betty what's going on ?" I asked. He sniffled and sat up in his chair again, nodding his agreement. Betty waited patiently.

"I tried." Tom whispered at her. "I tried last night to kill myself. Pop stopped me when he brought me in. I went to sleep in the cold on purpose, hoping I would freeze and die while I slept. I know it was wrong and I was just thinking only about myself, not Timmy. I just didn't think I could take it anymore. I wanted to die." There was a brief silence in the room.

Betty Grolier had arrived right on time about 45 minutes ago. After talking with me about fostering and having me sign several sets of papers, she had requested to interview the boys, separately. Tom was first and he had insisted I remain with him. Betty had taken his request in stride and didn't seem to be bothered by my presence. Up to now, I had simply sat in a chair next to Tom at the dining room table and listened. As soon as I heard the last question, I knew the answer to the mystery which had been stuck in the back of my mind. It all fell into place.

"Thank you for sharing with me, Tom." Betty said to him. She reached across and held his hand which lay on the table. "I don't believe you should feel guilty about having finally had enough and I hope now you realize there are always other choices to be made." He nodded his head and glanced at me.

"I didn't know and I couldn't think straight then." he responded.

"We want to make sure you never reach the point of feeling anything like that again." she assured him.

Timmy's interview went by quickly. He related to her some of the stories the boys had told me earlier in the day and I could see her cringe as descriptions of their abuse and daily horrors were disclosed. He was too detached when he spoke of these things, as if they were something which had happened to someone else and he was simply telling a story. I knew somewhere along the line this was all going to cave in on him, just as it had brought Tom to the point he had reached last night. The challenge for us was to anticipate when that would happen and to be there to catch him when he fell.

"Dr. Merrill," Ms. Grolier addressed me when the interviews were completed, "we are asking you to take on an awesome responsibility with these boys. Are you up to it ?"

"You call me David and I'll call you Betty." I responded. "I don't use the title, Doctor', any longer. We are going to be conversing quite a lot and Mr. or Ms. titles are awkward." She nodded her agreement. "The answer is no', I am not ready for it. But I will stick to it and do what I can for these boys."

"Knowing there is someone there for them, no matter what, can be a huge source of comfort and strength." she said. "It is the best beginning anyone could possibly give them. I can see they already trust you and rely on you as well."

"There is one thing I am going to insist on from the very beginning." I stated. "Anyone who sees or interviews either Tom or Timmy does so in my presence. If they are going to be upset or confused, I want to know what causes it. This is a deal breaker, so you need to get it approved by your highest level."

"That is a very unusual stipulation, for a Foster Parent" Betty commented, "and it will be very difficult to obtain permission without allowing others to know who you are. I have the impression you don't want other people to know that information.

"I understand we will be fighting an uphill battle over this," I assured her, "but I would appreciate your support. I also appreciate you not pushing for information about me right now, or opening my past up to your associates."

"I am confident you will tell me when you are ready." she stated. "I will let it be known you have a very close relationship established with these boys and your involvement with any interviews is essential in having the boys be open and comfortable. I can say that truthfully, because I believe it."

"Thank you, Betty." I said. "Your support will go a long way in settling this matter.

"If it becomes necessary," she commented, almost as an aside, "I may have to use some other ways to insure the boys get what they should." I wondered about this statement, but did not feel delving into it at this point would get me anywhere.

Chapter 6

Five years ago I sat with my teacher, mentor and friend, Dr. Eleanor McDivott in her office as we discussed what direction my future was about to take.

"You just couldn't resist, could you David ? You had to tell them they were wrong and you know better than they do."

"Well, they are wrong and I do know better than they do." I replied.

"They will bury you, you know." she warned. "It won't matter if you're right or not, they will bury you."

"It doesn't matter, Eleanor. I'm tired of the hierarchy, I'm tired of being able to do only half a job, I'm tired of being looked down on by my peers because I'm willing to work with those they consider below their status."

"You are so brilliant, David. You passed us all long ago and they would do anything to bring you down. Now this article you have published is going to be their ammunition. You have attacked the profession's ethics as being biased with heterosexual, conservative standards."

"Well they are. Homosexuals are pre-judged and their sexual dysfunction is regarded condescendingly. Those clinical psychologists in this area dealing with children and adolescents discount or ignore any homosexual inclinations they detect and treat their patients to a heterosexual standard."

"You are right. They are biased. And the small ray of light you have attempted to shine into the darkness will quickly be shielded against and blotted out."

"I've made a decision, Eleanor. I'm retiring. I am going to stop practicing. I can no longer take the restrictions imposed on me when I know different approaches would benefit the patients I am treating."

"That's an extreme decision David, but I know you have thought it out and I also know you are here to inform me of your decision, not ask my counsel. You know I wish you every success in whatever you choose to undertake."

"I am financially secure and I have an idea for building some business ventures. I expect it will keep me very busy for the next ten years and then I may come back and try spreading a few more rays of light."

Chapter 7

Dex was angry. It was an anger about which he didn't have the least idea how to resolve. He carefully massaged each muscle grouping, using gentle pressure on those which were tender and bruised, trying to loosen those which were strained and knotted. His anger had started when he first removed the towel from Tom's back and he again saw the bruising which covered almost every section of it. He forced himself to maintain a professional coolness even though his blood boiled as he thought about getting his hands around the neck of the sick bastard who had done this to Tom.

When he shifted the towels around and exposed the boy's legs, his anger was refueled. To try to help balance himself he made small talk with Tom.

"Are you feeling better today, Tom ?" he queried.

"Yes, Sir." the young man responded.

"My name is Dex, Tom." the man replied. "You don't need to call me Sir."

"I will try to remember to call you Dex," Tom answered, "but I think it is natural for some men to call you Sir."

Dex's mind wandered to last night when the big, powerful police boys had been calling him Sir and how natural it had felt to all of them. He wondered if David was correct about Tom not truly being submissive when he so easily could determine a dominant male. He raised the towel and exposed Tom's buttocks. He carefully stroked the tight muscles of the low back and butt, realizing the tension in them might not relax at all. The lower he massaged, the more he could hear Tom purring.

"That sound you're making, what is that ?" Dex asked. Tom hesitated answering.

"It's partly how I got the nickname of `Alley Cat'." he stated. "When I'm excited, or when George used me, I have a growling or purring noise which happens. I can't help it."

"You realize I'm not trying to excite you, don't you ?" Dex questioned. "This is just to help your soreness, not to make a pass at you."

"I know, Dex." Tom assured him. "But you're a very nice man and what your doing is very exciting for me. I know there is nothing meant by it, other than to help me, but part of me wishes there was. I'm use to George using me, often and good sex is good and bad sex is still sex. It is going to be hard for me to curb some of my feelings."

"I think you should talk to David about that, Tom." Dex counseled. "He will understand and may be able to work something out for you. He is a reasonable man and understands the needs people feel. He understood me and didn't let my feelings interfere with our business relationship." There was no response, but it was clear Tom was thinking about what he had been told. "You are very much ahead of your 14 years in some ways and I believe it is going to make some things really difficult for you."

"I don't know how much harder they can be than they were." Tom replied. "Tell me about `Pop', Dex. Why is he helping us ?" The boy lay quiet waiting for the muscular man to reply.

"I haven't known him very long, but I trust him completely." Dex finally said. "He is very careful about who he picks to work for him. I think once he has chosen someone, they are given his complete confidence and support. Last night, helping you and Timmy is the first time I really felt I had a personal relationship with him. No that's not true. I have known the relationship was there, we just never did anything which made it evident. He's a friend I never really realized I had and I feel honoured to know he thinks of me in that way. Have you ever had a close friend, Tom ?"

"Just my brother, Timmy." he answered, but there was a hesitation in his voice that left a question about his answer. "And there was one other person who was my friend. He was kind to me when no one else was. Is that what you mean ?"

"A brother can be your friend, I guess," Dex agreed, "and a friend can also be someone you meet and grow to trust and care about, who feels the same about you."

"Are we going to be friends, Dex ?" Tom asked.

"We already are, my boy." Dex told him. "We just haven't fully realized it yet." Tom raised his head and turned slightly on his side so he could look at Dex.

"I'm glad you're my friend, Dex." he told the man sincerely. "I think `Pop' will be our friend too."

"I expect you will find he will be much more for you than just your friend," Dex responded, "but being a friend is a good place for everyone to start."

The first couple days the boys were with me was a period of adjustment for all of us. I insisted on frequent rest periods for both of them and though they complied willingly at first, they became more resistive as time went on and their physical tolerance increased. By the third day I sensed a rebellion brewing, so I decreased the number of times I expected them to lay down to rest and increased the activities which could be done sitting together quietly. This seemed more acceptable to both boys and the rebellion was averted.

Tom had continued to see Dex each day and the massage had made him feel much improved. His bruising was decreasing markedly and his disposition was returning to the friendly, outgoing young man we had been familiar with before. I was pleased to see his relationship with Dex growing. The two of them were becoming close friends and Tom's admiration of Dex was affecting his own self image positively.

Timmy was relating and interacting very positively with me. Not as aggressively forward as Tom, he still held his own in his dealings with others. Quieter and more intellectual by nature, he would engage me in discussions of matters well beyond his age level and quite successfully make his point. Timmy was also forging a strong relationship with Brenda. Her natural mothering ways had been accepted by both boys and she shared her love toward them without any reservation. Each absorbed her attention and returned her affection in subtle ways as they tested their footing.

Cliff and John had made a point of being around quite a bit.the past couple days. I saw the keen interest they took in the boys, but also caught the meaningful glances between them and Dex. It appeared my muscular friend had found the playmates he had wished for.

I found that I was enjoying immensely the time I was spending with the boys. It was quite a break from the daily routine I had established for myself over the past few years. Having to think about others, plan ahead for them, arrange my activities to accommodate their needs was a challenge which was bringing me out of a rut of routine I was not even aware I had established.

Chapter 8

The boys had arrived early on Wednesday morning. It was now Saturday morning and we were seated around the breakfast table.

"I think it's time for a change of pace." I announced. "We're going out today." I immediately noticed a bit of agitation in both of them.

"Out ?" Timmy questioned. "Where would we go ?"

"Well I thought we would do a little shopping, stop and have lunch somewhere and maybe even go to a movie." I said.

"I still get tired awful fast, Pop." Tom complained. "Maybe I should just stay here and rest."

"Listen guys." I counseled. "You can't stay hidden away here forever. I know you feel safe here and it's a nice feeling to have, but you can be safe other places as well. Brenda and Dex are going to come with us and they are looking forward to going. We don't want to disappoint them, do we ?" They both shook their heads `no'.

"We don't got no coats." Tom tried one final rationalization. "It's too cold out now to be without a coat."

"You don't have any coats," I corrected his grammar, "and that's one of the things for which we need to shop. We also need to find you guys some new clothes. You're going to have to start school soon and you need some clothes for that and other things."

"I haven't been to school for a long time." Timmy told me. "Where do we go to school ?"

"Well, we're going to get some testing done and see where you will best fit in." I responded. "I believe you are both very intelligent and I think we can find some schooling for you that will be both interesting and challenging." There was silence briefly while we ate as they both thought over what had been said thus far.

"Pop, Dex says there is something I need to discuss with you." Tom announced. "I'm horny." I was looking at Timmy when Tom said this. Timmy froze and seemed to hold his breath while waiting for my response.

"So." I answered. "You're 14. You're suppose to be horny. It's part of growing up. This also doesn't seem like the best subject for breakfast conversation."

"I don't know what to do about it." he continued on. I honestly couldn't tell if I was being baited, or if Tom was really expressing lack of understanding about his body.

"All right." I said. "I'm going to assume you don't understand what is happening to your body. You didn't have anyone to tell you when you were Timmy's age, so I'm going to do it now for both of you."

For the next half hour I went over the changes of puberty with them. I outlined the physical and emotional development which they should expect. I could tell from Tom's facial expressions no one had ever spoken to him in this manner and the information was resolving questions he had thought about. Timmy also seemed to show some resolve about certain things.

"Tom is the only one I ever had to ask about things." Timmy noted when I had finished.

"Yea, and I couldn't tell him because I didn't know the answers most of the time." Tom added.

"Well, that's the why." I continued. "What to do about it is another whole area. Tom, because of what's happened to you, you have been exposed to activities which 14 year olds do not usually experience. Most young men your age masturbate and often experiment with a close friend their own age to achieve mutual satisfaction and relief."

"You mean jerkin' off ?" Tom asked. I nodded. "I was never allowed to do that. George beat me if I touched myself. He said, he always wanted me ready with a full load."

"It's your body, Tom." I replied. "I place no restrictions other than you keep it in the privacy of your own room and you do not hurt yourself."

"Yes, Sir.....I mean Pop." he responded with a big smile on his face. "May I be excused from the table ?" I nodded and he went directly to his room, closing the door after himself.

"Does that go for me too, Pop ?" Timmy asked.

"When your time comes, it goes for you too." I answered. He finished his breakfast with a big smile on his face.

"Boss, I been thinking." Dex said. "Sundays are a slower day in the gym. What if we set aside some hours, like maybe 2 to 6 p.m. and let the members bring their sons in. We don't have the facilities for daughters, or we could have made it for families. We'd have to make sure they understood they were responsible for their kids behaviour and if the kid didn't behave, they would both have to leave. It would also give Timmy and Tom a chance to meet and experience some other younger people."

"Well, I guess I better triple the food orders for Sundays." Brenda commented.

"I think it's a really good idea, Dex." I answered. "Why don't you go ahead and put a program together and outline the staff you want to run it. Then you can help me with the staffing hours, so we can make sure it is well covered. When do you want to start it ?"

"I thought we might get it going a week from tomorrow, if I can get the posters for it up right away." he enthused. It was clear Dex was very excited by this idea. "You know, that empty lot beside us might be a good place to expand into. We might be able to make this a whole family facility. I wonder who owns that lot and how much they would sell it for ?"

"I don't think it's for sale, Dex." I advised him. "The owner had a thought similar to yours and wanted to hold on to it for awhile." He looked at me with large question marks in his eyes. Slowly they cleared as the realization filtered through to him that I owned the empty lot.

"That's super, Boss. When can we start building ?" he questioned with delight.

"If things keep going the way they have been," I responded, "we will be in the black by next July and we will start talking seriously about it then."

The boys were ready to go, so everyone stepped into the elevator and we were quickly dropped to the basement, which contained in part, the parking garage. Brenda sat in the front passenger seat while the boys slid into the back seat with Dex. I noted in my rear view mirror each of the boys sat close to Dex and this provided the security they needed to soothe their uncertainties. We were soon on the road headed to one of the large shopping malls. It was easy to tell the boys had not been out of the downtown core for a long, long time, if ever. There was a steady chatter as they pointed out things which drew their attention. When we pulled into the mall parking lot and they saw all the cars and people, they grew silent and withdrawn.

I could see the fear in their eyes as we left the car and walked toward the mall building. Timmy held tight to Brenda's and my hands and Tom positioned himself between Dex and myself. The mall was not all that crowded. Decorations promoting and celebrating Thanksgiving were evident everywhere. Muzac played loudly through the speakers along the concourse. We wandered slowly through the shops and stores, allowing the boys to stop and look at things which interested them.

Timmy was fascinated by the book store and gazed endlessly at the rows of books which lined the shelves. I made mental note that a trip to the local library branch was in order at our earliest opportunity. Brenda recommended three books and I purchased them. When I handed the package to Timmy to carry, he became very excited.

Tom, on the other hand was taken with the model shop. Aircraft carriers, jet planes, tanks, all required careful inspection and appraisal. Airplanes appeared to be the top choice and I picked up a couple boxes that would give him a chance to see if he could assemble them as well as he could admire them. Handing him the bag, I received a hug and a grin unequal to anything I had seen from him up `til now.

Brenda now took over and herded us all to a series of stores which cumulatively provided a wardrobe for each of our wards. We started with basic socks and underwear and progressed outward. As usual she was efficient and thorough, covering all bases. Dex was sent to select athletic supporters, bathing suits and exercise apparel. I was assigned dress-up wardrobe and accouterments. The boys concern over visiting the mall and the number of people had disappeared somewhere between the front entrance and the second shop we stopped in.

It was after one o'clock when we were done shopping and we had made at least three trips to place packages in the car's trunk. Brenda told us she knew a nice restaurant at the other end of the mall, so we walked casually along the promenade looking at all the different displays and booths.

Suddenly, Tom grasped my arm tightly with both of his hands and pressed himself in against me as tightly as possible.

"What's the problem, Tom ?" I asked quietly, hugging him close with my other arm and trying not to escalate his obvious anxiety.

"That guy over there. I know him." he whispered to me. "He use to come to George's house and pay for George to let him be with me." I glanced in the general direction Tom had been facing, but could not discern who he was talking about.

"You're going to have to show me, Tom." I told him quietly. "No one is going to touch, or harm you. I promise." Still holding me closely, Tom slowly moved his head around and indicated a good looking young man dressed in a shirt, tie and dress slacks, standing to the side of the corridor, holding a walkie-talkie. He was obviously a member of the mall staff. "I'm going to go over and speak to him. You stay here with Dex."

"He can stay here with Brenda, `cause I'm goin' with you." Dex insisted.

"Please, don't hurt him." Tom pleaded. "He was always very nice to me. He never hurt me and sometimes he would stay with me. We would talk. His name is Neil."

"I'll be all right, Dex." I insisted. "Tom needs you while I'm gone. Please stay with him." Dex did not look happy, but he nodded his agreement. I walked over to where the young man was standing.

"Neil." I addressed him.

"Yes, Sir." he replied. "May I help you ?"

"My name is David Merrill and I need some information from you." I said. He looked puzzled. "Do you recognize the young man over there with my group ?" Neil looked at the group and I could see recognition dawn in his eyes and then fear take over. "You have nothing to be afraid about, I need you to help Tom."

"I don't have much money." he volunteered. "You can't take very much from me."

"We're not here to blackmail you, Neil." I assured him. "Tom is free of George. I am his friend. He says, you have been kind to him in the past and now we need your help to assist Tom in facing what he has gone through and to move on." The young man stood silently staring at Tom for a moment. Tom looked back at him hesitantly and slowly both of them gave the other a small smile.

"I'm really glad to know he got away from that place. I'll help you however I can." Neil told me. "I have a lunch break in ten minutes, can we talk then ?"

True to his word, Neil met us in the restaurant in about 15 minutes. He was shy approaching the table, but when he looked at Tom, he saw a smile greeting him and seemed assured about joining us. To make it easier to talk, Tom and I were seated at a separate table from the others, so it was just the three of us talking together.

"Tell me how you came about meeting Tom, if you would please, Neil." I requested. He paused for a moment collecting himself before he spoke.

"I'm 20 years old and I come from a rather high profile, upper scale family." he began. "I've never let my sexual orientation be known. I've a jock stud reputation and I've always encouraged it. My uncle approached me when I was 16 and told me he had an idea what was going on with me and warned me against bringing any shame to the family name. At 19, I was a horny virgin who happened to hear about this male brothel, where no questions are asked, if you paid the price. When I found the place I almost left. It was deplorable, but I stuck it out and ended up in this dingy room with a mattress and Tom. I spent an hour talking with him and then went out and paid for the entire night. We talked more and I spent the night holding him close, trying to provide him with some comfort. After that night, I went back as often as I could afford to, but he just kept looking worse and worse. I've been worried about him since I read in the paper about George being arrested."

"Let me see if I understand what you're saying." I clarified. "Are you saying you never had sexual relations with Tom."

"No." Tom certified. "We never did it." I looked over at Tom and he slowly hung his head.

"You and I are suppose to be honest with each other." I told Tom firmly. "Always."

"Once." Neil declared. "We had sex once only. He's the only person I've ever been with."

"Did anyone ever tell you how old Tom is ?" I asked. I saw Neil glance over at Tom before he spoke.

"He's 18. Both George and Tom told me," Neil declared. "Isn't he ?" I didn't speak. It was better for Tom to correct his lie, if it were true he had told one to Neil.

"I'm sorry, Neil. You were always so good to me and I love you so much." Tears started to run down Tom's face. Neil reached into his pocket and handed the boy a handkerchief, the expression on his face stating how concerned he was for the boy. "George made me tell everyone I was 18. I'm only 14 now." The shock on Neil's face was strikingly real.

"Oh my God." Neil moaned. " What have I done ?"